Chapter 7

Viola was barely home when Leonardo sent an apology text, she ignored him. He had made her wait for over an hour, she had called him several times, she knew that it was deliberate.

He had stood her up on purpose and then promised to pick the ring himself.

She was barely out of the car when Alessandra came running to her.

"Viola!"

"Hey Alessandra. I didn't go ring shopping today, stupid Leonardo stood me up."

"But he did say he'd get it himself, so I don't really care that much."

Alessandra nodded.

"No time for that mia figlia, Your grandfather has arranged a car for you, he wants to you to leave right away!"

Viola looked around confused, she didn't know what was going on.

Alessandra looked nervous.

"You are not to waste another minute here, his instructions were very clear. Bruno is waiting for you over there with the car."

Viola furrowed her eyebrows.

"But what's going on? Why so soon?"

Alessandra sighed.

"I don't know. I cannot explain it to you but you'll have to trust your grandfather and go with him. Leave now."

She said as she pointed to the car.

Viola obeyed knowing that staying too long could upset her grandfather.

But what could her grandfather possibly want?

She asked herself, he had avoided her all week and suddenly he had something very important to say to her?

How important could it be?

"Where are we going?"

She asked Bruno as she entered the car and he shrugged.

"You'll know when we get there ma'am. Your grandfather is waiting for you."

She turned to Alessandra who had an apologetic look on her face.

She smiled at her.

"I'll be here when you get back."

Viola nodded. She was still very much confused but there was very little she could say or do.

Bruno had been driving for close to fifty minutes, they were away from Milan, just after the bridge over the Po River and a short distance from Piacenza, the cities and their in nice suburbs end suddenly. And all at once a rolling, delightful and “real” countryside appears, inhabited and full of traditions, sometimes almost looking French, yet with a gloomy and almost medieval appearance.

Her grandfather owned land in the country, so she always heard but she had never really been there, nor did she have any idea of where they were going. At first she had thought they were visiting the Santangelo Vineyards, but she knew the road to the vineyard by heart and they were clearly on the wrong path if they were going to the vineyards.

The horizon was dotted with castles, farms and hills, all of which part of the sweeping view of the valleys of Piacenza, all different and each beloved by the litigious tribes of fans who chose one as their “personal” garden based on personal preferences in terms of landscape, food and, above all, wine.

Viola was admiring the beauty when all of a sudden the car started to slow down.

"We are here Ms Viola."

They were at Val Luretta a place that has now become the latest rural trendy place to be, now one of the favorite places of the Milanese in search of rural chic and stone farmhouses for their vacations. A small and rugged area with an Irish air to its verdant plateaus.

A quaint little farmhouse. It was the very first building she could see while driving up the curved driveway. A small, cream colored house with a porch that spans the entire front side. On the two sides are rose gardens with roses of every color known to man. The roses add a stark contrast to the muted color of the house itself.

Viola was still standing in front of the house when her grandfather walked out. He was dressed in a grey suit and he had a sour expression on his face. A woman came to stand next to him.

She was short and she looked homely, she wore a dirty brown apron over her long frock.

Viola didn't recognize her but from the looks of it, it looked like she was the one who owned the farmhouse.

"Nonno? What is going on?"

She asked as she saw him.

"Come with me."

He said without saying anything more.

The woman also didn't say anything.

Viola followed them into the farmhouse, It looked homely and cozy inside. Simple chairs, no television or sign of electricity, an old rocking chair and a vase full of the same roses she spotted outside.

"Sit."

Her grandfather said.

"I have a lot to tell you. About you, about your mother, about who you really are."

Viola's heart was beating rapidly in her chest, she always knew her grandfather was hiding something and now he was finally going to tell her.

"Your mother was an extraordinary woman."

He said and Viola sat still. Her Nonno rarely talked about her mother. When he talked about her, it was to warn Viola never to make the same mistakes as she did or to remind her how much those mistakes costed her family. It was a hard pill to swallow, it was nice to have her grandfather talking to her about her mother in a different way.

"She had extraordinary powers. Just like the women in the Santangelo family."

Viola furrowed her eyebrows in confusion but didn't say a word. She was going to let her grandfather finishe. She couldn't risk not knowing as much about her mother as she wanted to.

"But your mother was reckless and wild, she constantly fought against me."

"She was always rebelling against my wishes. She thought I wanted to control her."

Viola shifted uncomfortably in her chair, she herself knew first hand what her grandfather was like, how much he liked to exert control, her mother was not wrong thinking he wanted to lord over her, that was definitely what he wanted.

"Meanwhile I was only trying to protect her. When she met your father, I didn't approve of her union with your father. How could I? His family, his whole entire generations had a despicable history. One that doesn't go well with our kind."

Our kind? What was Grandfather saying? She thought.

"I begged her to leave him but she refused."

"She was away for years before she finally came back to me."

"She was heavily pregnant and she needed my help. She wanted me to find a way to protect you."

"Why? What happened?"

"Protect me from what?"

Grandfather shrugged.

"I told you, your mother had extraordinary powers, just like every woman in the Santangelo family line. She had thought she could escape that part of her life, but when she got pregnant, it only haunted her the more."

"I.. I don't understand!"

Viola cried out.

Her Grandfather shrugged.

"Have you ever wondered why you have that scar on the back of your neck?"

Viola reached out and touched the back of her neck. The slightly raised dark bump was still there, as it had been ever since she was born.

"Alessandra says I was born with it."

Her Grandfather shook his head.

"That scar, that was the ritual a witch had to perform immediately after you were born to hide your powers."

"What?"

Viola blurted out.