Flawless Ruin

“It doesn’t matter. I want to go with you.” Her eyes trail downward, and she draws her lower lip under her teeth. “Please?”

Dammit. Not that. I can’t say no to that face. I stand up. “Fine. Go dress, we leave in twenty.”

We takethe car I rented to a little vineyard on the northern border of Rome. It’s been a long time since I traveled these roads. Things have changed, but as we approach Giovanni’s estate, it looks frozen in time, a small villa nestled among rolling hills covered in grapevines.

As we pull down the dirt path lined with crooked cypress trees, the villa comes into view. Giovanni stands in the front door, looking just as I remember. It’s been twenty years, and he’s still slight, balding, slightly hunched. Back in the day, he was a Godfather type—knew everyone, and everyone knew him.

But then, there was a falling out between him and my father, over what, I don’t know, and… Well, it’s been a while.

He approaches us as we get out of the car, and he tells me, in Italian, that the wine tasting room is closed.

I shake my head. “Giovanni,” I say, leaning forward so he can get a better look at me. “It’s me. Caleb.”

His eyes widen as recognition floods in. “Caleb… Caleb Sterling?”

“Yes.”

He looks amazed, but I’m relieved to see happiness in his expression, too. I wasn’t sure what kind of reception I’d find. “What! What are you doing here, young Sterling?” He embraces me, kissing me on both cheeks in the traditional style. “Come to pay us a visit after all these years!” He tuts. “I heard about your parents. I am sorry.”

“I appreciate that.” I pause, feeling awkward. “I was wondering if I could ask you a couple questions.”

He nods. “Of course!

You must join us for lunch. You, and your lovely friend.” He turns to Juliet, smiling.

“It’s lovely to meet you.” She greets him, and I make the introductions, following him into the kitchen of the old farmhouse, where the smell of pasta sauce is thick, and the table is already set for two. An older woman in a flowered dress is in front of the stove.

“Valentina! We have guests! They will stay for lunch.”

Juliet breathes in and exclaims. “Something smells delicious.”

“Cacciatore,” the older woman says as Giovanni goes about, setting out the extra places at the table. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Sounds lovely,” Juliet says. “Every meal I’ve eaten in this country so far has been the best of my life!”

Giovanni says, “My wife, Valentina, makes the best chicken cacciatore in all of Italy.”

They chat about food as Valentina bustles, preparing the meal. I relax a little. Maybe inviting Juliet was a good thing, after all. I don’t want to be revisiting the painful parts of my past, but she has a way of setting everyone at ease, making everything less tense.

By the time we sit down at the long table, they’re all the best of friends, and lunch passes in a chatter of enthusiasm. I keep up the small talk, filling in Giovanni with news about the business and new designs, but I’m biding my time until the meal is over, and we move to the patio out back, overlooking the vineyard.

“Now,” Giovanni says, pouring us some wine. “As much as it’s good to see old friends, I know you didn’t come all this way just to hear about my grape crops.”

I exhale. “No.”

I look at Juliet. Her eyes are narrowed in confusion. I led her to believe this trip was all about business, but the truth was, that deal is already iron-clad. I could’ve signed it in my sleep, from the comfort of my house in New York.

This. This was what I needed to travel across the Atlantic for.

“I always wondered…” I begin. “Why you and my father had a falling out, back then.” I pause, reluctant, but I need to know the truth. “Was it about the Barrettis?”

Giovanni’s expression darkens. “I haven’t spoken that name in many years.”

“I know.” I nod, wanting to be respectful. “But I need answers. I know he was in business with Roman,” I tell him. “That they struck a deal, laundering money through the business. I just don’t understand why. Why would he risk everything like that?”

“Why does any man make a deal with the devil?” Giovanni asks. “Hunger. Ambition. Your father had big plans for the company, and Roman promised him the world.”

Isn’t that what my father always said: That desire would ruin you?