Chapter 5

• After the intense fight with Dante, Don Salvatore ordered Federica to take me back to my room, so I could take a bath. I knew I had lunch with the other young women from the families belonging to the 'Ndrangheta, and I couldn't show up for the occasion in my current state.
• Federica prepared the bathtub while I removed my blouse and capri pants, revealing the contours of my body tired from the fight. I got into the tub and sighed as the warm water relaxed my tense muscles.
• Federica, concerned, began to question my choice to fight Dante. As the water enveloped me, I raised an eyebrow and replied, “I beat him, Federica.”
• She shook her head, visibly nervous, and continued, “But what did you gain from it, Catarina? What did you two accomplish with this fight?”
• I sank into the bathtub and took a deep breath, pondering her words. “I gained his respect, Federica. He won't call me Bambi anymore.”
• Federica sighed, looking worried about my attitude. “Catarina, you shouldn't have done this. It was reckless.”
• I shrugged, accepting that it might seem insane to others, but I knew what I was doing. “It might be crazy, Federica, but at least I put Dante in his place.”
• I continued to bathe, feeling the water run over my body as I reflected on the moments of the fight. There was something in Dante's eyes, the closeness of our faces during the confrontation, that had stirred something in me in a strange way.
• Federica insisted, “You need to be more careful, Catarina. Don Salvatore didn't like any of this, and you can't afford to upset him.”
• I nodded, understanding Federica's concerns. After all, she was more than my lady-in-waiting; she was a close friend and confidante. “I know, Federica. I'll be careful. But I couldn't let Dante challenge me without a response.”
• Federica seemed resigned to my response, but still concerned. She continued to take care of me, helping me wash my hair and skin.
• As the water flowed, the images of the fight filled my mind. Dante's face so close to mine, his heavy breath against my skin. There was something about that confrontation that had affected me in a strange way, something I couldn't fully understand. It was as if beneath the surface of anger and rivalry, there was an unexplained tension between us.
• I knew I had a lot to face on my path in the mafia, including my own brothers. However, I was not willing to back down. I was a Piromalli, a Mancuso, and I was determined to show that I belonged to this family as much as any of them.
• ***
• After my relaxing bath, Federica helped me choose a new outfit for the lunch with the other young women from the families belonging to the 'Ndrangheta. I opted for an elegant beige dress that highlighted my femininity without being too flashy. I felt confident and ready to face the occasion.
• Once I was considered appropriate, I made my way to the driver, who promptly opened the door for me to get into the Maserati Levante. The mansion faded into the distance as I headed towards Tribeca, the location where the lunch would be held.
• Upon arriving, I was met with a group of young women who exuded power and influence. Fioreza Pelle-Vottari, Antonella Nirta-Strangio, Cinzia Barbaro, Elma Condello, Donatella Morabito, and Giulia Ruga were all present. Each of them was roughly my age and were the daughters of the heads of the most important families in the 'Ndrangheta. This lunch was not just a casual meal; it was a way to mark territory for the Mancuso family and, of course, for myself.
• With a warm smile, I hugged each of the girls. After all, mafia politics didn't exclude camaraderie among the young women. It was indispensable to maintain good relations, even if we knew that in the future, our paths might cross in more complex ways.
• During lunch, we talked about various subjects, including my upcoming birthday. Elma Condello enthusiastically mentioned that it would be the event of the season, and I nodded with a smile.
• Fioreza Pelle-Vottari, always practical, mentioned that she had already prepared her outfit and mask, as the party would be a masquerade ball. Donatella Morabito, with a curious look, asked if we should wear masks the entire time. I smiled and explained, “No, girls. The tradition is that we only remove our masks at midnight. Until then, everyone maintains anonymity. It will be a surprise for all.”
• Antonella Nirta-Strangio, always with a touch of humor, quipped, “That means we'll only kiss someone after midnight to avoid the risk of kissing an ugly guy.”
• We laughed together, sharing a complicity that only the daughters of 'Ndrangheta families understood. As we savored our lunch, the conversation among the girls continued lively. Giulia Ruga made a provocative suggestion that made us all laugh.
• “If we organize ourselves, girls, it's possible that each of us will leave Catarina's birthday party with a Mancuso!”
• Fioreza Pelle-Vottari, with a mischievous smile, added, “That's true, Catarina has four brothers. There are Mancusos for all of us!”
• The others, Antonella Nirta-Strangio, Cinzia Barbaro, Elma Condello, and Donatella Morabito, excitedly agreed. The girls exchanged knowing glances and then shouted in unison, “Dante!”
• The discussion became heated, and they began debating who had mentioned Dante Mancuso's name first.
• I rolled my eyes at the conversation, finding it all rather futile. “Girls, stop this. Dante is not all that.”
• They looked at me surprised, and Cinzia took the lead, arguing, “Catarina, you only say that because he's your brother. You can't see him the way we do.”
• Intrigued, I asked, “How do you see him, then?”
• One by one, they began to list Dante's physical attributes. Fioreza praised his defined chest, comparing it to something from a magazine. Antonella excitedly agreed, admitting she almost fell off her scooter when she saw him running along the coast. Elma described his smile as perfect.
• I furrowed my brow, incredulous. “Elma, you're lying. Dante doesn't smile.”
• Cinzia intervened, defending her friend. “I was there when he smiled, Catarina. Once, at a party, he was super friendly.”
• I shook my head in disagreement. “That can't be Dante. Dante is grumpy, boring, annoying, likes to tease, he's insufferable!”
• Fioreza laughed and said, “Thank goodness Catarina doesn't look at Dante with different eyes, or we wouldn't stand a chance against her.”
• I laughed along with them, but then commented, “Even if I saw him that way, he would never look at me like that. Dante always made it clear that he can't stand me.”
• Cinzia then pondered, “Sometimes, his anger can be just repressed love, you know? You're siblings, even if it's by adoption. Sometimes, the way he acts can be a weird way of showing affection.”
• I shook my head, disagreeing. “No, I don't believe that. Besides, he's much older than me. I bet he sees me as a little girl.”
• The other girls continued to debate the relationship between Dante and me, while I maintained my conviction that he was simply insufferable and the idea of any different feelings on his part was completely absurd. Nevertheless, the lighthearted conversation about the subject made me think about Dante in a way I wasn't used to, and a strange feeling began to stir within me.