Chapter 6 - The Italian Silence
The villa on the hills overlooking Lake Como was four hundred years old. Its terra-cotta roof tiles were faded to a warm rose-orange by centuries of Italian sun, and its stone terraces were draped in cascading purple wisteria that filled the afternoon air with a heavy, sweet perfume.
Dominic Russo sat at an iron table on the upper balcony, wearing a plain linen shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms. On the table sat a glass of dark red wine from his own vineyard, an untouched plate of olives and cured ham, and an iPad displaying the live market feeds from New York.
It was 3:00 PM in Manhattan. 9:00 PM in Italy.
On the screen, a live video broadcast showed Evelyn Whitmore standing at a podium in Midtown Manhattan. She was flanked by the Mayor of New York, the Governor, and two senior directors of the Municipal Health Society.
She looked extraordinary. Her pregnancy was advanced, her white silk dress draping gracefully over her full figure, her hair framed by the warm afternoon sunlight. She was speaking about a forty-million-dollar endowment from the Whitmore Family Foundation to build a new pediatric wing at Bellevue Hospital.
The crowd at the podium was applauding.
The same low-frequency, respectful roar of an audience in awe of absolute power.
Dominic stared at the screen. He did not drink his wine. He did not move.
A servant stepped onto the balcony, holding a silver tray with a quiet bottle of sparkling water.
"Signore," the servant whispered in Italian. "Will you be dining on the terrace tonight?"
Dominic did not look up from the screen. He watched Evelyn smile, turn to shake the Mayor's hand, and gently rest her fingers over her stomach—over his son.
May you like
"No," Dominic whispered, his voice dry and hollow, lost in the quiet rustle of the wisteria leaves in the evening wind. "No... I'm not hungry."
The servant bowed softly and retreated into the dark interior of the ancient house, leaving Dominic sitting alone under the emerging Italian stars, watching the woman he had underestimated run the world he had lost.
