Chapter 1
Card Two: The EmperorBellucci KitchenVinny stepped back and opened the door wider.
“Come inside.”
Angelique hesitated.
“I don’t want to interrupt.”
“You already rang the bell.”
That made her laugh once, nervously.
Vinny’s mouth twitched.
“Come on.”
She stepped into Saint Charles.
The foyer was not foreign to her. Sacred Heart girls knew foyers like this. Marble floors. Dark wood. Portraits. Flowers that had been arranged by someone who did not ask the price. A staircase broad enough for wedding photos and family arguments.
But this house had a different pulse.
It was louder.
Warmer.
More alive.
The Bellucci mansion did not feel like it was trying to prove money.
It felt like it had already outlived everybody’s opinion.
Vinny closed the door behind her.
The smell from the kitchen came through the hall thick and immediate.
Brick-oven pepperoni pizza.
Garlic.
Tomato sauce.
Cheese browning at the edges.
Something sweet underneath it.
Cherry.
Almond.
Cream.
When Vinny brought her into the kitchen, a cousin looked up from a plate.
“Who’s that?”
Vinny answered calmly.
“Angelique.”
An aunt wiped her hands on a towel and studied her with sharp, warm eyes.
“Well, come here, baby.”
Angelique looked at Vinny.
He nodded once.
“You’re safe.”
She moved farther into the kitchen.
The aunt kissed both of her cheeks like she had known her since kindergarten.
“You eat?”
Angelique opened her mouth.
Vinny answered first.
“She’s eating.”
“I can answer,” Angelique said softly.
Vinny looked at her.
“Did you eat?”
She paused.
“No.”
He turned back toward the aunt.
“She’s eating.”
The kitchen laughed.
A plate appeared in front of her within seconds.
Brick-oven pepperoni pizza, edges crisp and bubbling.
A glass of cherry amaretto soda, dark red and bright under the kitchen lights.
Then a red velvet cannoli, placed at the edge of the plate like it belonged there before she did.
Angelique sat at the island because no one gave her a choice.
She took one bite of pizza and almost forgot she had been terrified.
Vinny stood across from her, watching the room more than her, like he already knew which cousin was about to say something stupid.
One aunt noticed the envelope in Angelique’s hand.
“What’s that?”
Angelique froze.
Vinny glanced at the invitation.
“She asked me to prom.”
The room went silent for one clean second.
Then Saint Charles exploded.
“To prom?”
“Vinny!”
“Oh my God.”
“He said yes?”
“Of course he said yes.”
“Get the pictures.”
“No,” Vinny said immediately.
An aunt pointed toward the back room.
“Get the shoebox.”
“No no no,” Vinny said. “Not the shoebox.”
Another aunt was already moving.
A cousin leaned over the island.
“So Vinny’s going to prom again?”
Vinny closed his eyes briefly.
“Don’t start.”
Angelique looked up.
“Again?”
The aunt came back with a shoebox.
Then another aunt walked in from the back room with another shoebox full of pictures.
Vinny looked at Angelique.
“You see what you did?”
She laughed for real this time.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You rang the bell.”
Pictures spread across the island.
Vinny in tuxedos.
Vinny younger.
Vinny with girls in satin dresses.
Vinny with corsages.
Vinny looking annoyed in half of them and too smooth in the rest.
Angelique stared.
An aunt said, “Are you kidding? Vinny went to every high school prom but his own.”
The kitchen roared.
Vinny reached for one photo.
“No. Take that away.”
Another aunt smacked his hand.
“Leave it. She should know what she’s getting into.”
Angelique’s face warmed.
Vinny caught it and changed the subject by picking up the red velvet cannoli from her plate and handing it back to her.
“Eat your dessert before they start telling lies.”
“They’re lies?”
The kitchen answered together.
“No.”
Vinny sighed.
Angelique bit into the cannoli.
Red velvet cream, sweet and rich, filled her mouth. The shell cracked softly. The whole kitchen smelled like hot pizza, cherry soda, garlic, and sugar.
Bellucci red was not just a color.
It was food.
Noise.
Family.
A promise that embarrassment would not survive long in this house.
