Martin smirked into his coffee from his place next to his brother, and Felice looked like she wanted to argue but thought better of it when Sal gave her a look that spoke volumes. She grudgingly gave up her seat, which Sal then offered to me, placing me directly across from Ricci, who sat on his right.
Junior piped up, and I’m guessing no one bothered to tell him I spoke the language because he lit into Sal for displacing his mother for the filthy American interloper. Not his exact words, but you get the gist. Sal didn’t even answer him, but as if rehearsed, he and Martin began discussing my academic achievements because now, apparently, I was the only one in the family like him, something else my great-grandfather, for whom Sal has great respect, would’ve been proud of.
I drank my coffee and ignored the girl who was trying to look around her mother at me and her brother, who was pouting like an infant. I’m sure he was uncomfortable, that like his father, he was wondering what my purpose was here and what I planned to take. All of it!
“Niputi, you’re not eating, do you not like?”
Treccine, millefoglie, ciambelle and brioche, croissants and cheese danish along with other assorted pastries were on offer, a bit too rich for my blood this early in the day. “This is good!” I saluted him with my cup, but he called the same butler from last night over to the table and ordered him to bring me some fruit.
The tension in the room was palpable as Sal continued fawning over me, and it wasn’t just the kids who were staring daggers at me. Felice was so stiff she was in danger of snapping her fork in two, even when Junior sneered about my breakfast choice of fruit which I accepted once it arrived. It looks like his vocabulary is very limited since he kept repeating his infantile insult of calling me a stupid American.
“That’s no way to speak of your older brother piccolo fratello.” I smiled at him and he …. well, I guess he doesn’t like being called little brother, and neither did his mother. Sal patted my hand and smiled at me with pride. I’d accepted my place in the family.
“Later, when we’re done here, I take you outside. I have a gift.”
“A gift? For me? You didn’t need to do that; I’m fine just having met you.”
“No-no, this you will like. Do you know cars? You know cars, yes, this, it belonged to my father, he loved his cars, but this one was his favorite; no one else has ever driven it since he left us.” Well, that started off a firestorm, even Martin looked a bit taken aback by this largess, and Junior and Ricci were damn near epileptic.
“What kind is it?”
“The Bugatti Type forty-nine, it’s a beauty. I keep it well maintained.” Well, damn, Pop would be all over that in a heartbeat.
“What year?”
“Nineteen-thirty-three, ah see, I knew you would know. When we’re done, you’ll go see.”
“Let’s go now, nannu; I love old cars; they are one of my passions.”
I totally ignored all the hubbub, and so did he as we stood to leave the table. This was going even better than I expected this early in the game. My plan to sow discord hadn’t needed me to set it off at all; just my presence seems to have been enough to get things rolling.
I know that Sal was doing this in part to get under Ricci’s skin and maybe a little bit under Jr.’s, who he’s been a bit disappointed in here lately since the younger man has been acting out more and more and becoming more like his wasted space of a father. “It was nice to meet you,” I said to Jr. but ignored the girl. If I even thought of getting close to her, the twins would skin her and disown me. I have no intentions of getting close to any of them beyond what I need to bring them down.
I’ll be sure to exacerbate the expected rivalry between Jr. and myself each time Sal has a front-row seat to make it easier for him to come to the conclusion that after him, I was the only one suitable to take his place. I don’t expect it to be an easy decision, but I’m set to do everything in my power to make it happen.
It’s early in the game yet, but if things continue this way, there is no doubt that they will go as I want in due time. It didn’t take much thinking to realize that someone like Ricci and his son would feel threatened by me being here. If they weren’t such screw-ups, they wouldn’t be sweating my presence, and before I leave here, I will make sure to make them even more uncomfortable by my very existence.