Dogs Among Withered Roses - Chapter 1

【 It’s my fault, it’s my fault 】

The Sunday luncheon following mass was peaceful.

When Berenice emptied her plate of lasagna made with a rich Bolognese sauce, a kitchen staff member, as if waiting for the moment, brought out a halibut dish wrapped in foil. Inside the warm foil, carefully opened, was a generous serving of cartoccio filled with plenty of ingredients.

Her stomach was reasonably full from the lasagna she’d just eaten, but the distinctive spices of Linferno and the tempting white flesh of the halibut made her mouth water again. Even if she was full, she couldn’t simply look away, thinking of the chef’s effort since morning to prepare the Sunday meal.

When Berenice met the eyes of Chef Francesco emerging from the kitchen, she reflexively smiled brightly. Francesco, too, seemed genuinely pleased to see her. It had been two full weeks since Berenice last visited the Valentiera mansion.

It was understandable. He’d probably only been seeing those rough-looking mafia executives and members day and night. Ever since Berenice had moved out to live separately after signing the penthouse lease right after the new year a month ago, she only showed her face during the Sunday masses and luncheons unless it was something important.

If it were up to her, she’d have skipped them all, but even for Berenice, it was hard to ignore the Sunday mass and luncheon held every two weeks, attended by the key executives of the Valentiera Family.

So what choice did she have? She had to show her face regularly.

As the only sister of Ricardo Angelo Valentiera, the second boss of the Valentiera Family, and as the accountant managing the family’s funds, Berenice did her part by cutting off a large piece of the halibut’s white flesh and putting it in her mouth, living up to Francesco’s eager expectations.

The moment she raised her thumb toward the chef waiting for her reaction, Berenice’s hand froze as she softly chewed and swallowed the halibut. It was because her eyes met those of a man chatting briefly beside Francesco.

So suddenly. So unexpectedly.

As Francesco smiled warmly and turned back toward the kitchen, Berenice kept her gaze fixed on the man, who continued to stare at her without moving. The smile she wore like a mask slowly faded. Even though there were plenty of eyes around, she found it hard to maintain her usual smile.

What was this? Who called him here?

Berenice glanced sideways at the Valentiera Family’s boss, Ricardo, the underboss, the consigliere, and the caporegime who managed divided territories of Valentiera’s domain.

She didn’t know which of them had summoned that man, but his face wasn’t entirely unfamiliar. Slowly setting down her fork, Berenice filled her mouth with lukewarm water.

She hadn’t exchanged a single proper greeting with him, only brushed past him a few times while going back and forth between the Valentiera Family’s business sites and Ricardo’s mansion, but she already knew his name.

Erkin Lucio Lafayette.

If her memory served, he was one of the soldatos—official members—of the Valentiera Family who’d had his initiation ceremony last year.

Ricardo had praised him for his diligence and perfection in handling even the toughest jobs, as well as his solid loyalty. He’d even mentioned that unless something unexpected happened, Erkin would surely become a caporegime, a ranking officer, within a few years.

Recalling words she’d overheard from other capos (short for caporegime) and soldatos, Berenice unconsciously narrowed one eye.

She’d assumed he would look around casually and then leave.

But Erkin only stared at her, as if nothing around him could be heard or felt. His half-lowered eyes, as if he were gazing down from a high podium at a crowd, grew more unsettling the longer she looked.

Berenice quietly watched those eyes, as cold as frozen seawater, then glanced down at the half-finished cartoccio in front of her.

Maybe she’d just enjoyed the lasagna and cartoccio a little too much.

That couldn’t be it. Francesco’s Linferno dishes were indeed delicious, but at least they weren’t the kind that drew someone’s gaze like that.

It’s not like he’s fallen for me because I happen to look too beautiful today. And really, this face has been the same for years now.

Not wanting to continue her tiresome train of thought or that troublesome feeling during her meal, Berenice’s self-indulgent musings came to an abrupt halt when she instinctively looked back toward the man. She wondered if he was still standing there without eating anything.

When she straightened her head, her eyes widened slightly.

Did he… just smile?

His eyes didn’t curve pleasantly, nor did the corners of his mouth lift softly. At first glance, there was only a subtle tension at the edges of his lips, barely noticeable.

And yet, that was all it took.

Even without a trace of real amusement, his face somehow looked like it was smiling. The moment their eyes met again, his expression returned to its usual emotionless, dry look, leaving her uncertain whether she’d seen it correctly. Still, Berenice couldn’t easily dismiss the notion that he had smiled at her as just a trick of her mind.

If the one startled by the sudden eye contact had looked away first, she might have claimed even a slight sense of victory. But because he met her gaze so boldly, that fleeting expression hovering somewhere between a smile and a sneer lingered in her mind, impossible to erase as if nothing had happened.

Erkin’s unwavering stare stayed taut, as though saying that noticing her unease was the only thing that mattered to him. The sharp glint in Berenice’s eyes also grew more intense, sparked by a strange, unidentifiable defiance.

As she speared a piece of crisp asparagus and placed it in her mouth, she didn’t avert her gaze, meeting his the entire time. The longer it went on, the more tangled her thoughts became.

Leaving aside the question of why he was even here, one thing was clear: Erkin hadn’t just happened to glance her way in passing. He’d been watching.

Why her?

And why was she staring back?

Why, why—her mind repeated the question with no answer as their gazes locked stubbornly like a silent battle for a moment. His unreadable smile and her pointless irritation were all futile, meaningless. Consoling herself with that thought, Berenice quickly lost interest and withdrew her gaze with indifference, as if to say, ‘Do whatever you want.’

Still, she found it harder to bear the idea that continuing to meet his gaze so openly made it look like he was getting under her skin.

“Ah, Berenice.”

Just then, Ricardo, who had been talking all through the luncheon with Emilio Lamaro, the Valentiera Family’s underboss, called out to her. Berenice, who had been about to finish the remaining cartoccio, lifted her head as if she’d been waiting for that. Her light glance told him, If you called me, speak.

Ricardo asked, “What’s your plan for the rest of the weekend?”

“After this, I’m stopping by the office.”

“On the weekend?”

“What’s wrong with working on weekends? Even Francesco skips Sunday mass to make our daily bread, doesn’t he?”

“Fair point. What about dinner?”

“With Brian.”

At the mention that she was meeting her boyfriend, Ricardo’s peaceful expression immediately darkened. Seeing his visible displeasure, Berenice’s own expression twisted as well.

“Ricardo, what’s that face for?”

“How long are you planning to keep seeing that Bridgent bastard?”

“Who knows. Until I get tired of him?”

Her smile, delicate around her eyes, looked disarmingly innocent despite her careless, nonchalant reply. She didn’t even bother to hide the fact that she didn’t mean it.

Whether I get tired of him or not, it’s my business. Why ruin my appetite with pointless questions like that?

Berenice muttered half-heartedly as she poked at the scraps of halibut, onion, and lemon slices left in the foil. Even if he didn’t like Brian, calling him “that Bridgent bastard” was going too far.

Most of the Valentiera Family members, including Berenice and Ricardo, were indeed immigrants from Linferno, but it seemed they’d forgotten that they were now proper Bridgent citizens. Tilting her head as if to ask if he had any more pointless nagging to throw at her, Berenice made Ricardo sigh in defeat.

“Take your bodyguard.”

“I will.”

She always had a bodyguard wherever she went, so she couldn’t understand why he had to bring it up like it was something new. Berenice snorted at the dull conversation and was about to finish her meal when Ricardo added briefly,

“One more.”

“One more?”

Ignoring her question, Ricardo gestured lightly. At his signal, Erkin, who had been standing by the dining room door, slowly approached.

Not toward Ricardo, but toward Berenice.

With a bewildered look, Berenice glanced back and forth between the man now standing behind her like a door and Ricardo.

“You know who he is, right? From now on, Erkin will be in charge of your security along with Andre.”

“Why?”

“Why not? He’s good at his job.”

Berenice narrowed one eye. Not that he was wrong, but it wasn’t the right answer for this situation. Sure, he did his job well. That’s why he was probably set to be the next caporegime. But a bodyguard, out of nowhere?

Just thinking about it was uncomfortable.

T/N:
Boss (Don): The head of the Family.
Underboss: Second-in-command.
Consigliere: The Boss’s trusted advisor and counselor.
Caporegime (Capo): A “captain.”
Soldato (Soldier): A made member of the Family.
Picciotto: The lowest rank.