Ciao Bella

Chapter Nineteen

“You always have a choice, at least that’s what people say, but in the end those choices still affect you and everyone around you, so while you always have a choice, sometimes you have to take the worst one.” —King Campisi

Bella

I’d picked out two dresses.

A white one that I’d dreamed about since I was a little girl, knowing my dad would give me away, imagining the look of love on my groom’s face and the look of downright grief and pride on my dad’s.

I wasn’t one of those girls who had a wedding vision book or anything, but what I did have was an obsession with dresses. Every scenario in life could be fixed with the right costume or, in my opinion, armor and dresses were the very best kind. When you think of a dress, you think of something that shows you off. When I think of a dress, I think of something that tells a story for you and helps you find the beginning, middle, and end.

Dresses solve puzzles because they’re puzzles in and of themselves, not one is really the same, and they’re always drawing the eye.

When I thought about my wedding dress, I wanted something that would bring out the best in me, something that would make the love of my life focus on my eyes and only my eyes.

I went for a chic silk slip dress with a long train; it had nearly invisible ivory straps that went to my lower back, exposing all of it.

It was simple.

Beautiful.

And I didn’t want a veil. I didn’t want to cover my joy.

The other dress, however, that I dreamed of, was the statement dress, a dress you wore in order to tell a story and make sure everyone knew that you would be the one writing the ending.

It was red.

It had see-through lace across the stomach, chest, and sleeves, was daring, sexy, and it made a statement with its long blood-red train, but most of all, because the sleeves were see-through, you could see my small Abandonato tattoo in black writing down my left arm, it ended right at my wrist, close to my ring finger.

My branding.

My oath.

My life.

I wanted him to see it; I wanted him to see me and know that I wasn’t going down without a fight, and I wanted the world to know the sacrifice I was making.

May as well be a blood sacrifice—bathed in an expensive dress.

I sighed and looked at the white one. That was the fantasy.

The red was my reality.

So, I very slowly started to change into my wedding dress, opting for matching red heels.

A knock sounded at the door just as I finished.

My makeup was already flawless, my dark hair was pulled back into a loose braid, and my eyes were alert.

“Come in,” I whispered.

When I looked over my shoulder, I was a bit surprised to see my uncle Chase, not my sister, not my dad, not my mom… but my uncle.

“It looks the same.” He let himself in. He was wearing an all-white tux with no tie, and if it was even possible, still looked like he was only thirty years old as he walked into the room. It really was impossible to take the men in my family everywhere. Chase was just another example, fully tatted down both arms, up to his neck, captivating smile that held secrets, crystal blue eyes and thick dark brown hair.

They’d make a killing with a mafia calendar. Then again, he was a senator and had the ear of every powerful politician in the world, it seemed.

“Is it time?” I looked around him.

His eyes locked on me before he crooked his finger and then sat down on the floor. “Sit.”

“I’m in a dress.”

“It’s not white.” He pointed out. “Just sit.”

I carefully sat next to him on the ground, leaning up against the wall by the door. “Comfy.”

“Sarcasm from my niece, shocker.”

I shrugged. “It’s not like I’m ready to pop champagne and celebrate right now.”

“A lot of us have been forced to do things we don’t want to do, I still deal with my demons, Bella. Sometimes I think if they went away, I’d be bored out of my mind and need more things to wrestle.”

I almost laughed. “That sounds mentally sound.”

“Hey. now.” He wrapped an arm around me and held me close. “Dreams are made to be borne out of nightmares, not the other way around, Bella.” He held me tight. “You appreciate the dream when the nightmare is over, but you always wait for the other shoe to drop. I think it’s better to experience the darkness first, so you know what it feels like, then to live a perfect dream only to have the rug jerked out from underneath you, leaving you vulnerable without any skill, tools, armor.”

“And getting married is my nightmare.” I stated flatly.

He laughed. “It wasn’t mine, but it should have been, yes, looking back, it was a nightmare masquerading as a perfect dream. Finally, someone loved me, wanted me, needed me, so when the rug was pulled out from underneath me, I was completely wrecked, angry, lost. I didn’t know how to deal because I’d blindly existed in that dream, one that didn’t exist.”

I knew his story. I knew that his first wife was the one who caused the collapse of the De Langes, hadn’t I just been at that party days ago hearing confessions because of her? I also know he loved her more than life itself and couldn’t pull the trigger. In the end, Phoenix, Junior’s dad, took the fall, took the burden out of Chase’s hands, and for good reason. “At least you’re happily married now, you are living the dream.”

“I’m in a tux and have to smile for the next few hours, this is a nightmare and I think we’re all out of whiskey. We started early.” He winked.

I burst out laughing. Chase always made me laugh. He was the fun uncle, the cool one, but also the one that would quite literally slit someone’s throat for looking at me funny. I kind of loved it.

He and my dad had anger issues that only worsened once they had kids. The wives thought it was hilarious, the kids myself included, that were often caught in the crosshairs when attempting to date, didn’t find it funny at all.

I smiled. “Remember when you made my prom date shit his pants?”

Chase scowled. “It was food poisoning.”

“He hadn’t eaten all day.”

“So, it was lack of food.” Chase shrugged. “He should have eaten.”

“You had a machete.”

“I was pruning,” he said quickly.

“What garden?”

“There was a tree… somewhere.”

“Would that be next to the water fountain or the garage?” I elbowed him.

He scowled. “I can’t protect you once you walk down that aisle, just like nobody protected me then. You have to take care of yourself and remember why you’re doing this. I don’t care what went down with Ivan, I don’t even care if it’s true that you actually fell for him or his tricks. What I do care about is keeping the peace between the Families, keeping us alive, and making sure you stay that way. So, wear your red dress, cry a few tears, and walk like the queen you are. All right?”

“Not a princess anymore?” I joked.

He turned to me and cupped my cheeks with his hands. “Bella, you’ve always been a queen in my eyes, you just liked to hide it behind a very innocent mask, allowing your older sister to flaunt her crown. It’s your turn now. Give him hell.”

“I already do.”

“Make it hurt,” he added.

“Noted.”

“That’s my girl. Now.” He stood and held out his hand. “Let’s get you to your dad before he kicks down the door, not realizing it’s actually unlocked. He’s a nervous wreck, and we’ve all made bets to see who he hits first.”

I made a face. “My bet is Uncle Tex.”

“Hmmm…” He nodded. “Everyone else said me or Ash.”

“Like father, like son,” I said.

His face fell. “Yeah.”

I didn’t ask if Phoenix was there; I didn’t have to, because when the door opened, he was standing right next to my dad, full black matching tux and dark circles under his eyes.

He held out his arm. I clung to it and reached for my dad.

I didn’t know that both of them were walking me down the aisle, but it made sense in a gory sort of way.

Junior had been killed by my soon to be husband.

And my soon to be husband was the new boss of the De Lange Family, and once upon a time, Phoenix had held that birthright only to cleanse himself from it the minute he became the Nicolasi boss and was able to escape the darkness of his past.

It was full circle in the worst sort of tragic ways.

The arm of the Five Families that Phoenix so desperately tried to forget was about to thrive under the protection of the Cosa Nostra again, and every time he had to see Ivan, he’d remember how it was achieved.

The wedding march sounded.

Guests were staring at my dress like I’d already created a grave sin. I held my head high.

Phoenix’s grip on my left arm tightened. “I approve of the dress.”

I smiled through my teeth and whispered, “I won’t let the world burn, and if it does, I’ll take him down with me.”

“Good girl,” Dad said from my right. “Be brave.”

“Already am.” I stared straight ahead at Ivan.

His eyes were locked on me, something that looked like approval glittered behind the green irises and as much as I hated him, he smiled a real smile, like this wasn’t the worst day of both of our lives.

I still remembered his angry kiss, his hands all over me, being stuck in the shower with him and wanting more but feeling embarrassed at the same time, and then of course him making fun of me again only to claim me in front of all of the Families like a whore.

God, I was going to die a virgin, wasn’t I?

He would never touch me.

I’d be a laughingstock while he slept with other women.

But I’d keep the peace between the Families.

Sacrificing every need and desire I had—for the devil himself.

“Who gives this woman?” the priest asked, standing in all his pure finery, holding his Bible in his hands like he wasn’t officiating a wedding in front of murderers. Like he wasn’t marrying one off.

Dad cleared his throat. “Her mother and I.”

Serena stood as my maid of honor, I chose black and red as my wedding colors and every single one of the girls standing up with her, Lydia, Raven, Tempest, Anya, Arial, and Serena herself had gorgeous black dresses on with veils over their eyes.

Epic. To say the least.

We were mourning, after all.

“And who stands in for the De Lange line?” the priest asked.

The church fell completely silent, still, tense.

This could ruin it all.

“Me.” Phoenix snapped. “And my dead son, the former boss of the De Lange Family, bless this marriage. Blood in…” He dropped my arm and seethed at Ivan. “…No out.”

“Get in alive,” Ivan whispered. “You’ll have to get out dead.”

Phoenix gave him his back and sat down next to his wife Bee who was looking down at her lap, she was still in mourning too. I didn’t blame any of them for feeling this way.

It was time to seal my fate as my dad leaned down and pressed a kiss to my left cheek, then my right and gripped my hand, placing it over Ivan’s.

My body trembled as Ivan pulled me against him, nodding to my dad as if he respected him.

Dad didn’t move for at least a minute before he finally turned on his heel and joined my mom, who was watching the exchange with worry etched all over her face. I could tell she wanted to jump up and say I object.

But objecting would only lead to more blood.

And enough had already been spilled.

Numb, I stood by Ivan’s side, ignoring the fact that he looked like a beautiful predator in his black tux.

The priest spoke.

I barely listened.

My fingers sweat beneath Ivan’s hand.

Nobody cried tears of joy over our blessing.

Nobody smiled at me.

I felt like I was going to pass out when we finally got to the vows. I repeated what I was supposed to repeat.

What felt like hours later, the priest said, “You may now kiss your bride.”

The part I dreaded.

Ivan leaned in with a cruel smile, his head descended, but he missed my mouth, only pressing a lingering kiss on my cheek as if to start a precedence over the fact that he would never touch me, never find me attractive, never love me.

The kiss was cold.

My heart cracked, but in my defense, I was weak.

I didn’t want his kiss, right?

So why did a solitary tear run down my cheek, a tear of embarrassment and loss that even on my wedding day, my own husband didn’t claim my mouth, as evil as he was.

It was one more thing he stole.

And it split me into more pieces than I’d like to admit.