I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Why...? It's my name—”
“They work for me. They're not here to be your friends.”
Ouch. “Okay, Mr. Vicari.”
“You won’t speak to them unless it’s really necessary, and above all, you will not be alone with them. Ever.” Camillo's voice was little more than a whisper, dragging out each word. “You answer only to me, Signorina Parker. If anyone can call you Daisy, it’s me. Now, get some rest.”
Chapter 26
Camillo Vicari
July, 2025
Castello dell’Fiero, Calabria, Italy
Daisy slept with her mouth open and her head resting on my shoulder. With an annoyed sigh, I realized how her drool was soaking my shirt. I had never seen a lady snore like a tractor engine, but there was a first time for everything.
Martino, my driver, laughed quietly, shaking with laughter at each snore from my hostage. I pretended not to notice, especially since he was making a superhuman effort not to let me notice. I couldn't blame him.
Daisy was, at that moment, a vision from hell.
Enjoying her scent a little too much that close to me, I clenched my fists tightly. I didn't know why I had said that to her. The last thing I cared about was for my people to fraternizewith each other. The private lives of those who worked for me were only my concern to a certain extent. I wanted to make sure they had everything they needed and weren't threatened, because that's how you kept loyal soldati, but beyond that... I didn't meddle. However, I had just forbidden Daisy from socializing with them and had even told Luca to ignore her friendliness, demanding that the men treat her with the necessary reverence.
Her circumstances there didn't matter at all. In the Calabria region, throughout theentireregion, I had eyes, ears, and hands at my disposal. When they weren't working for me, they worked for other families in the same line of business as ours. Other ‘ndrine. Daisy could spend her remaining time as my housekeeper and still go out and have fun. If she tried to escape or go to the police, she would be in for the most unpleasant of surprises. However, the mere idea of her fraternizing with other men made my skin crawl.
But what was done was done. I had given the order and it would be unworthy to take it back. Capibastone had to keep their word even in the smallest things. Constantly changing one's mind was synonymous with a weakness we could not afford. Worse, it signified a lack of character and integrity.
Until then, integrity had been everything to those who worked for or managed a società. Men without integrity died young.
As soon as I saw the silhouette of the vineyard and the villa high on the hill, I sighed and allowed myself a relieved smile. It was good to see those yellow walls again, which held somany stories within them. In mid-July, at that hour, the sun was already shining in all its splendor on the roof tiles of the house, bringing out their reddish tones, and spreading over all the surrounding vegetation, creating a veritable rainbow where greens, yellows, and pinks reigned supreme.
Martino parked the car in front of the entrance, stopping a few meters from the white steps leading to the main door. Without further ado, I pushed Daisy and, with a mischievous smile, watched her bump her head on the glass.
“We’re here, Signorina Parker.” She rubbed her eyes and the spot where her head had hit. Without waiting for a reaction, I got out of the car and walked around it with long strides, opening the door on her side. “Andiamo.”
With her face swollen from sleep and a line of dried drool on her chin, Daisy got out of the vehicle with cautious steps and seemed to shrink as she stood in front of the villa. I watched as her tiny eyes scanned every detail, from the first floor to the ground floor, sparkling in the sunlight.
I let her absorb the moment, carefully closing the car door behind her. Although surrounded by vineyards, our house had a modest garden with an orchard mixed in around it. There were my Nonna's flower beds next to the house and fruit trees from hundreds of generations dotting the perimeter. Orange, tangerine, lemon, and laurel trees lived there in harmony.
I placed a hand on Daisy's back and gently pushed her toward the steps. She moved forward with some resistance, as if one wrong step could lead to her death, and stopped as soon as wereached the first step, her eyes fixed on the flower bed right next to us. She had a cheerful smile that intrigued me.
“Daisies.”
I frowned, not understanding what she was saying. “Scusa?”
“The flowers. They're daisies,” she replied, looking at me with an expression that was new. Her face was lit up, soft and cheerful.
“In Italian, we call themmargherite.” That's when I realized. “Wait. They have your name!”
“Yes!” she confirmed with a broad smile I’d never seen on her lips before.Dio, she was beautiful. So fucking beautiful. “It was my Papa who picked it, you know? He said that since my mother loved flowers, he wanted to give her another flower... Hence the name Daisy Peonia.” I saw her smile fade at the sound of that statement and a shadow fall over her face.
I gently took her by the wrist, noticing the bruises on her biceps, and carefully pulled her up the steps. As soon as our feet touched the floor of the house, the scent of oils and furniture wax invaded my nostrils and the ancient hall of Villa Vicari presented itself in all its splendor. Its dark green walls adorned with mahogany panels rising high, and a huge copper-framed mirror welcoming us in its reflection, allowing me to see the amazement spreading across Daisy's face the instant we entered.
“Do you like it, Signorina Parker?” I asked, turning around and finding her already spinning on her heels, absorbing every detail.
“It's... beautiful,” she murmured.
I chuckled. “And old. It has hundreds of years and has seen many generations of Vicari come and go.”