Oath of Sacrifice (Deviant Doms 4)

And Jesus can those boys eat, too. Mama’s getting groceries delivered damn near every day, like we’re a bonafide restaurant. Orlando’s using his vendor account to order restaurant-sized everything, and Tavi’s having his staff in the North End keep us readily supplied with their decadent homemade pastries.

Elise has cooked us lamb shanks and steak, whatever her pregnant heart craves, Nonna’s plied us with every delicacy Italy has to offer, and Mama’s made her homemade bread so often, the house smells like a permanent bakery.

Last night, Elise showed me how to make Zuppa Toscana, a savory soup made with sausage, potatoes, and a broth laced with cream and wilted spinach. When he ate it, Santo asked me in a whispered breath if I’d marry him.

No one’s attacked us. And yet, the threat lingers in the air like the smell of gun smoke after battle. No one questions Tavi’s lockdown.

“You can help me pick the new inventory for the upcoming winter collection,” Elise says. “I’ll need it done early before the baby comes.”

I know she’s been talking at length with Tavi and Santo about her family, but no one’s offered any information, and I know better than to ask. But something tells me she’d welcome a change of topic right about now.

“I’m game,” I say with a shrug.

“What’ll that take, like, ten minutes?” Marialena says, rolling her eyes.

“God, I wish,” Elise replies.

Then Marialena’s eyes go wide. “Oooh. Oh, I have an idea. You guys, I have the best idea.” She jumps up. “I just have to talk to Mario…”

She runs from the room with her eyes alight.

“What’s she up to now?” Santo mutters, refilling his espresso cup. I’ve barely seen him since yesterday. I practically have to sit on my hand to keep me from reaching over and squeezing his. Between his absence and Elise’s, I suspect something’s going on, I know it.

“I have no idea,” I tell him honestly. “Says she’s bored.”

Santo smirks. God, I love his smirk. It makes me want to jump him. “When we were little, remember what Mama would do if we told her we were bored?”

“Oh God,” I say with a laugh. “We’d have to clean this house from top to bottom, until Papa put an end to that,” I say with a grimace. Papa hated his children doing “menial labor.” Said it was undignified.

We’re finishing up dinner, but Santo’s just come in from outside. I’m not gonna lie, I’m super jealous he gets to go outside when the rest of us are stuck indoors. We all are.

“Eh, let her have her fun,” I say with a shrug.

“All of you out!” Marialena says, entering the room and clapping her hands. “Well, everyone but Natalia. Everyone else, scoot!”

Santo gives her a withering look. Tavi eyes her suspiciously. “What the hell are you doing?”

“It’s a surprise,” she says in a singsong voice.

“Marialena, you can’t goof off now,” Tavi says sternly. “We’re still on soft lockdown, and if you do anything that jeopardizes our safety—”

“Tavi, relax,” she says. “Take the stick outta your—” Then she clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head. “Promised myself I’d be as respectful to you as I was to Romeo, so I will not complete that sentence.”

“Thanks,” Tavi says, giving her a sidelong look.

“Trust me. Don’t you trust your baby sister?”

“Ah, no way,” Orlando says from across the room.

She rolls her eyes. “You’ll see.”

I’m working with Elise in the reception room on the emergent winter collection, a new batch of imported leather bags, lightweight woolen scarves, and a cashmere collection that makes me want to sigh in bliss, when we hear Marialena from the Great Hall.

“Come one, come all! The next movie showing is at seven p.m. sharp.”

Elise and I exchange a glance.

“Did she say movie showing?” Elise asks.

“Ah ha.”

I see Santo’s shadow pass the doorway as a group text comes in on my phone.

Movie night, just like when we were kids. Great Hall in ten! Wear your jammies and bring your pillow!

“Is she outta her fuckin’ mind,” Tavi mumbles as he walks in the reception room and comes straight to Elise.

“Oh, I don’t know, I think it’s a fantastic idea.” Elise grins. “I thought I smelled popcorn…”

“Oh, you smell popcorn alright,” Mario says. He enters the room with a large paper sack of popcorn. “She had me bring in the machine we used to use for the St. Anthony’s festivals back in the day, you remember?”

“Jesus, dude, you’re sprayin’ popcorn all over the damn place,” Tavi says.

Mario rolls his eyes. “One little piece.” He picks it up and pops it into his mouth.

I roll my own eyes.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but if I have the option of spending the rest of the night staring at my phone or reading a book or whatever, I would rather watch a movie and eat popcorn that’s gonna clog my arteries than anything.” Plus, I don’t like to disappoint Marialena. It’s like kicking a puppy.