Salvatore Dalla Part 2

“I guarantee everything will be as it should, but I don’t want to and won’t hide Amapola anymore. This is our last chance; if she doesn’t come back with me, it’s over for us.”
“Son, calm down; that’s not how things get resolved.”
“If there’s one thing I don’t have, it’s calm, and I’ve waited too long for Amapola.” I stand up; I need to go to the party. “Do I have your blessing or not?”
“Yes, Salvatore, you have it,” he says after taking a long, deep breath. “Take care of her, protect her, and love my daughter. Please, don’t make her suffer.”
“Don’t worry, mio suocero, my life will be to make her happy.” I walk toward the door. “Don’t wait up for her,” I say with a smile on my lips.
“Controllati Salvatore, Amah è mia bambina, si?”
“Non preoccuparti, eu só a farei bem,” I assure him and descend the stairs before the man pulls out a gun and makes Amapola a widow before our wedding even takes place.

***


Amadeu parks the car at the venue for the product launch, where not only people from Italy but from all over the world are present.
I'm approached by a different person with every step I take inside. I try to be cordial, even though this event doesn't appeal to me at all; I just want to find her. But being who I am, it was expected that everyone would want a moment with me, at least. That's why I always sent Rico or Fabrizio to these events; I only showed up when it was absolutely necessary.
When I finally manage to reach the main hall, I see her. She’s with Marco and another couple I recognize as the owners of one of Italy’s top wineries. Amapola is smiling, even though she’s turned to the side, and she hasn’t seen me yet. One of her arms is resting on Marco’s, and I do my best not to pull out a knife and cut off the arm that supports her and the other hand that gently caresses hers.
Gradually, people start to notice my presence, and heads turn in my direction. Finally, she looks my way, and I see her smile slowly fade. She doesn’t look happy to see me, or maybe it’s just shock at my unexpected arrival. After all, Fabrizio was supposed to be here, not me.
Confidently, I walk toward her, ignoring everyone trying to approach me. I’ll deal with them later; my sole focus right now is to get rid of the two of them.
“Gentlemen?” I greet the men, extending my hand. Marco looks surprised; I’m sure he knew that Amapola and I had been involved, after all, our photos had graced every major newspaper and magazine just six months ago.
“Madam.” I take the hand of the woman accompanying him and kiss the back of her hand respectfully.
“Amapola.” I extend my hand toward her, but she remains like a statue, not even blinking.
“Salvatore.” My name on her lips is a slow, seductive whisper that sends chills down my spine.
“Sei belissima, amore mio.” Unlike what I did with the other woman, I pull her closer, kissing her cheek and whispering in her ear. I see her neck and arms goosebump, and I smile when we pull back slightly.
“Mr. Dalla Costa, what a surprise to see you here,” Marco says, trying to sound enthusiastic, but I know he isn’t genuinely excited, just as I suspected. Amapola no longer wraps her arm around him, and my mission for now is accomplished.
“Fabrizio had a last-minute issue,” I explain. “Either way, I wanted to be here today.” We engage in a conversation about business and sales growth, but unfortunately, I can’t dedicate myself solely to Amapola.
Marco, being the good businessman that he is, guides me through the main circles, and I greet all the important men and women present, with him and Amapola by my side. Although she smiles and is polite, I can feel her tension.
“I need to go to the restroom,” she says after a while.
“Feel free, Amapola,” Marco responds, smiling.
“I’ll be waiting, mia bella,” I say, and she takes a deep breath, closing her eyes before turning her back on me. I know she’s not happy with the situation, but what can I do, after all?
“Come with me,” I say to Marco, leading him toward one of the rooms that I suspect is already empty. Amadeu has signaled to me, indicating the place. That’s why he’s my best man; he anticipates everything I might need.
“Sir, Salvatore, your presence here is wonderful; I’m sure the event will be even more successful,” he says after we enter the room.
“That’s great, Marco. It’s always my intention for profits to rise, but what brought me here today wasn’t business; it was Amapola.”
“Amapola?” He tries to feign surprise, but being a man, I know he’s already figured out the reason for my presence.
“Yes, la mia moglie.”
“Your wife? Sir, I didn’t know that you two…”
“Don’t play the fool, Marco, for your own good.” My voice is firm and cutting; I see him swallow hard. “Amapola and I have been through a rough patch, but I’ve decided she’s had what she needed, so I came to reclaim what belongs to me.”