Marco stared at Antonio. He knew that look on his brother’s face and it never ended well. Salvatore had cut some cheese and bread for them. They took their food in the parlor. Senora Draco hated it when they ate in there which is why Antonio selected it to eat in. Marco never understood why Antonio was so bitter with their half brother, Rodolfo and his staff. Senora Draco once said something about Antonio being just like their mother. She said it with a sad look on her face but Marco never understood what she meant. Marco barely remembered his mother. All he knew was everyone called her the Rose of the family. Only recently Marco had overheard Senora Draco say that his mother was like a rose. Beautiful with sharp thorns.
“Marco, that servant is just what I need to take my mind off of Rodolfo’s stinginess. She truly will be fun to play with.”
“Antonio, I think I have met her before. Please do not get involved with her. I get the feeling that doing so would be your undoing and brother I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
“Don’t be such a child Marco. She will be mine.” Antonio said with a leer. Marco sighed. He looked up at the portrait of Rodolfo and his American wife, Alicia. Marco thought she was pretty which surprised him since he had always been told American women were ugly and rude. Alicia was always very kind to Marco. She treated him like a beloved little brother. As he looked at her picture he realized that the new servant girl looked very much like Dona Alicia. It was eerie to see. Then he began to understand Antonio’s fascination. Antonio always said he hated Rodolfo’s wife but Marco knew that Antonio wanted her for himself. She had won the hearts of all the Giordano men and it fed fuel to the contempt Antonio had for his older brother.