There is no rush ~~~~

Valentina POV

Our last stop was the vineyard, where vines stretched as far as the eye could see. The estate grew Gaglioppo and Greco bianco grapes, which they blended to make red and rosé wines. They also made nigredo, a grappa flavoured with licorice and I quickly discovered this was my very favourite thing on earth.

“Easy, signorina,” Vincenzo, the vintner, said as I took another swallow. “The Ravazzani grappa is to be sipped.”

“Canadians are quickly becoming like Americans,” Dimitri teased, mimicking someone guzzling a drink. “More, more, more.”

“Stop dragging Canadians,” I told him as I shoved his shoulder. “We are nicer than Italians.”

Vincenzo chuckled, but shook his head. “You will not like how it tastes coming back up, signorina.” I waved that comment away. “I never throw up after drinking. We Mancinis are made of sterner stuff.”

Vincenzo and Dimitri exchanged an amused look. “No doubt you are, bella,” Dimitri said and held up the bottle. “Would you like another?”

“Per favore,” I said, which only made Dimitri laugh. “Your Italian needs improvement.”

“I know. Will you teach me?”

“Of course, but there is no rush.” There was, but I couldn’t say as much. Dimitri was resigned to our marriage, and who knew what he might do if I informed him of my plans to escape? He was becoming a friend, but not an ally. First and foremost, he was a Ravazzani.

Vincenzo left us and I decided to learn more about this man who seemed to fear his father but had saved me all the same. “What do you do in the ’Ndrangheta?” Dimitri choked on his grappa and coughed loudly. “Are you always so forward?”

“I apologize. It’s just that you seem different from your father. I’m having a hard time seeing you as a hardened mobster.” He licked his lips and studied the glass in his hand. “It’s all I have ever known. I was young when my mother died, and since then it has been Zia and my father, and the ’ndrina. I was inducted at fourteen. There’s no other life for me.”

“That sounds...sad.” The edge of his mouth hitched, making him appear like a younger version of his father. “Only someone from the outside would see it as such. Being the Ravazzani heir is a great privilege.”

“It is but only if you want it. If you want the same life as your father.”

“I have no choice And it is not a bad thing, being both feared and respected by everyone I meet. My father’s reputation is known by many.”

“I can’t imagine what it is like for a boy in our world. My sisters and I were sheltered from my father’s business.”

“As it should be,” Dimitri said. “What we do is men’s business, though there are more and more women leading ’ndrine nowadays.”

“There are?”

“Sí. In fact, I thought my father would arrange for me to marry the daughter of La Madrina, the head of the Melbourne ’ndrina. But then you came along.”

Australia, wow. “Did you want to marry this other woman?”

“No, but that hardly matters. My role is to marry and have more Ravazzani boys to carry on our tradition.”

“Not necessarily, Your father could remarry.” Dimitri ’s expression said this topic had been broached and rejected. “He refuses. I think he carries around a lot of guilt over my mother’s death.”

Rafael Ravazzani, feeling guilt? I couldn’t believe it. “Was she ill?”

“No, she was murdered.” I gasped, grabbing the edge of the wooden table as I swayed from surprise and too much grappa. “Shit, that’s awful. I’m sorry, Dimitri .”

“Thank you. I barely remember her, but my memories are good ones.”

“How did it happen?”

“She was running on the beach. A South American gang killed her and guards. It had to do with a deal my father made with their rivals.”

“No wonder he feels guilty.”

“Unfortunately, it is all too common in our world.” Dimitri heaved a sigh that sounded bone deep. “The only way out of this life is death, Tina . Each of us knows that.”

I finished my grappa while digesting this grim news. “Shouldn’t you be trying to convince me to marry into your family?”

He lowered his voice to barely above a whisper. “I told you, there is no need for convincing. This is happening, whether we like it or not.”

“I know my reasons for not wanting to marry you, but why don’t you want to get married?”

“It doesn’t matter, and we shouldn’t discuss this here.” I glanced around us, but there was no one else in the old tasting room. Only the wine barrels could overhear us. “We’re alone.”

“No, we aren’t. There is no privacy in the house or anywhere on the estate, Tina . Never forget it.”

“I don’t see any cameras.” My father’s cameras were the clunky old school type, that whirred as they moved. “They are sophisticated. You won’t see the cameras or listening devices unless my father wants you to.”

My stomach sank as I considered my escape plans. Was there surveillance equipment in my bedroom? “At least you have the freedom to leave the estate.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it freedom, but yes, I am able to leave.” He poured us each more grappa. “I’ll take you anywhere in Siderno you wish to go, yes?”

“Sure. How about the airport?” He chuckled and toasted me with his glass. “You have a sense of humour, Tina Mancini. I didn’t expect that. You also have spunk, as the Americans call it, but I cannot decide if that is a good or bad thing.”

“I’m hoping it’s good because I don’t know how to act any differently.”

“That must be why my father reacts to you so strongly.”

“It’s because he hates me.”

“No, he doesn’t. You made him very angry last night, angrier than I’ve seen him in a long time. He was very worked up.”

“Must be my special charm at work.”

“It’s weird. He is usually very polite with women.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“No, I mean it. He charms them. Puts them at ease. Women love my father.” Of course they did. He was a gorgeous and powerful Italian man, and no doubt a beast in the bedroom. I remembered Katarzyna and her model-like perfection despite being in her late 20s or early 30s. Were all his girlfriends so beautiful?

“Your expression is strange,” Dimitri asked, his eyes trailing over my face. “What are you thinking about?”

I was tipsy but not drunk enough to confess my troubling thoughts regarding his father. I went with a partial truth instead. “I’ve barely thought of escaping today.”

“That is good. We’ll make a Calabrian out of you yet.” No, they wouldn’t. I’d rather die than be a mafia wife. “I like you, Dimitri .” I shook my head sadly. “I don’t want to, but I do.”

“It will make it easier, Tina . I’ll be a good husband to you And some day, this will all be ours.”

“No offence, but I honestly hope you are wrong.” I finished my grappa and swayed on my feet. “Whoa.” Dimitri grinned. “I think it is time to go back.”

“Do we have to? I hate being cooped up inside. It was so nice to be out with the plants and trees today.”

“I’m afraid it is almost dinner time. My father will be expecting us.”

“Your father.” I made a dismissive sound in my throat. “He’s already put me in the dungeon. What will he do next if he disapproves? String me up on the rack? Strap me to a dunking bench?”

Dimitri was unamused, his mouth flat and serious. “You do not want to ever find out, bella. Come on. You need food to soak up all this grappa.”

He took my arm and began leading me out of the tasting room. We said goodbye to Vincenzo and strolled along the dirt path to the castle. “I have decided that I love grappa,” I declared as I clung to Dimitri ’s arm. “And the estate isn’t so bad.”

“I am happy to hear it.” He was humouring me. “I will honestly miss it when I go back to Toronto.”

“You’ve got to put an end to those thoughts. Unfortunately for both of us, Tina , you are here to stay.” My stomach turned over. I ran behind a fig tree and threw up.