Bonus Content #2
I stand up and approach the podium before anyone else can.
“My dad …” I trail off. My voice is amplified by the mic, and it makes me sound strange, like I’m a stranger at my dad’s funeral.
Franco smirks. I clear my throat. “My dad could command everyone’s attention the moment he stepped into a room.
That was the kind of presence he had. Despite his demanding job, he always made sure to be home for dinner.
He never missed our family dinners. He loved my mom.
” She cries harder at this. I have to clear my throat again to get passed how choked up I’m becoming.
“They had a love that was to be studied. To be admired. They were always there for each other, even in subtle ways. Like Dad doing the dishes when Mom would get overwhelmed. Or Mom taking the time to iron his suit because she knew how much he liked waking up to it. They gave and they took from each other in the best way. I hope to have a love like that someday.” I blink and a wet spot lands on the podium.
It takes me a second to realize that it’s my tear.
“He also loved us, his kids. I’ll miss him every day, and I know my siblings will, too.
” I look at my dad, dead in his casket despite looking alive.
“I’ll miss you, Daddy. Cecilia believes you’re in heaven, and I really hope you are.
” I hurry away from the podium and back to my seat.
“That was beautiful, Emilia,” Mom says.
“Thanks, Mom.”
She clutches my hand like she’ll die if she doesn’t have me to anchor her to this earth.
After the ceremony, we leave for the reception, which is held across the street at a community center. It’s a strange sight, seeing everyone in their finest black cross at an intersection. I hold onto Mom and Mia’s hands as we enter the building.
Food is already being served. Drinks are already pouring. It’s like everyone has already moved on, despite it being a funeral reception. Only my family and I are left to mourn.
The room is cold and barren, with fluorescent lights overhead. There’s no warmth here, and why should there be? It’s a funeral, after all.
We stand in a line from oldest to youngest as the guests give us their condolences.
I have to nod and smile at these men despite how sad I am.
They expect it. I’ll be labeled a bitch or difficult if I don’t smile.
That’s how Mafia men can be. It gave me hope that my dad was different and that he was teaching Antonio to be different.
But now that Dad’s gone, I can only worry.
Franco approaches us, grabbing my mom’s hands before she can even react. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Giulia. I can tell how hard this is on you.”
She tries to pull her hands back, but he holds on. “It must be hard for you, too. Riccardo was your brother.”
“He was. But he was your husband. I hope you’ll do well on your own. You’re still young. You have many more years of childbearing. It’s a shame you’ll have to waste it.”
I stare at Franco hard. That’s such a horrible thing to say to my mother. But she doesn’t reply. She just smiles stiffly.
It’s Gemma who replies. “Why the fuck would you say that to her?”
“Gemma,” Moms scolds again. “Language. And don’t.”
“Yes,” Franco says, letting my mom’s hands go. “Don’t. Children should be seen and not heard.”
Gemma stands up taller. “I’m sixteen. Not a child.”
“Mmm. You still are in so many ways.” Franco’s eyes land on me. “But Emilia here is finally an adult. How does it feel?”
“It feels fine,” I respond.
“Right.” He gives me a once over before turning back to Giulia. “If you ever need anything, give me a call.”
Mom nods shakily. Franco gives her a wink before strolling away.
“Are you ok?” I ask.
“I will be. I have to be.”
I stare at my mom for a few seconds longer. Even though what Franco said was disgusting, he was right about one thing. My mom is still young. She’s only in her late thirties, having had me when she was eighteen. I can’t imagine becoming a mother yet. I feel like I have so much more to learn.
My dad was significantly older than her, but it never seemed to affect their marriage. I wonder how much older my husband will be.
After we finish accepting everyone’s condolences, Mom stands before the group of people.
“I wasn’t able to speak at the ceremony, but …
now, I feel more able to.” Her face is red from crying.
It doesn’t diminish her beauty in any way.
Her blonde hair still manages to sparkle in the sunlight streaming through the window.
Her blue eyes look like their shining even more after all of her tears.
The men in the crowd are captivated by her.
“Riccardo was my world,” she continues. “He was a strong leader. And now, it’s up to my son, Antonio, to take over.
” She motions for Antonio to come stand by her.
He’s like a little male version of her, just as pale and blond.
She pulls something out of her purse. It’s a pendant with a wolf crest on it.
The crest of my family. Antonio’s eyes light up at the sight of it.
“Is that dad’s?” he asks, his voice still small and squeak. Puberty hasn’t quite hit him yet.
“It is. And now, it’s yours.” She puts the pendant around his neck. “Be a strong leader like your father.”
Antonio stands up taller. “I will.”
I look over at the crowd and notice how Franco’s face looks pinched as he watches the exchange between my mother and brother.
The rest of the day passes in a blur. It’s a relief when we all finally go home. But the minute I step through our front door of our brownstone, I feel like I’m slapped in the face. Dad is officially not coming back home.
I kick off my shoes and shuffle over the couch, plopping down onto it. Gemma joins me. Antonio is showing Cecilia his pendant, the two of them whispering as they walk up the stairs to their respective rooms.
Mia snuggles in next to Giulia on the other couch. Francesca tentatively approaches our mom. “Could you help me undo my zipper?”
Mom doesn’t respond.
“Mom?” Francesca repeats.
“Mom,” I say, nodding at Francesca.
Giulia blinks, and her eyes zero in on Francesca. “Oh. I didn’t see you there. What did you need?”
“My zipper?” Francesca asks.
Mom sighs, hugging Mia in closer. “What? I’m too tired right now to help with anything.”
Francesca looks like she’s about to cry all over again.
“Here.” I say to her. “I got it.” I unzip the back of her dress, and she gives me a small nod of thanks before rushing off to her bedroom. “You shouldn’t ignore Francesca, Mom.”
“I wasn’t.” She plays with Mia’s hair. “She’s just so quiet; I didn’t even notice her at first.”
“That’s because you can be such a bitch to her,” Gemma mutters.
Mom shoots a glare at Gemma. “I’ve had enough with your attitude, Gemma. Either sit there and be quiet or go to your room.”
Gemma gives the biggest eye roll that only sixteen-year-olds can manage before standing up and dramatically trudging out of the room.
“What now?” I ask Mom.
“Now, it’s time to talk about your marriage.”
I sit up straighter, clearing my throat. I knew this day was coming. “Ok.”
“Your father and I made you a match before he died.” She starts braiding Mia’s hair. “The moment he found out he was sick, he began making arrangements to guarantee a good alliance to further ensure our family’s power. Now that Riccardo is gone, anyone can swoop in and take his place.”
“But Antonio—”
She cuts me off. “Antonio is only twelve. I put on a show by giving him his father’s pendant, but that pendant won’t protect him. Any one of your father’s men can decide to take all of this for himself. We’re not safe.”
Mia whirls around. “We’re not safe?”
Mom sighs and kisses the top of her head. “Sweetheart, go to your room. Emilia and I need to discuss some things.”
“But I don’t want to be alone.”
“I know, but this is grown up talk. I need a moment with your sister.”
Mia pouts as she gets up.
“I’ll read you a bedtime story,” I promise her. She smiles slightly before leaving.
“I just can’t deal with any of that at the moment,” Mom says, more to herself than me.
“It’s ok. I’ll check on everyone after we’re done talking.” I’m used to checking on my siblings anyway. It’s nothing new.
She gives me a grateful smile. “Thank you for that.”
“So, this marriage alliance …”
“Right. Your father made an alliance with a man named Marco Aldi. He’s the ruler of the Italian Mafia in Los Angeles.”
I blink. “LA? No one ever said I’d have to move to marry. I can’t leave you and the family.”
“I know. But you must.” She reaches over and grabs my hands. “Emilia. This is the marriage your father made for you. Everything is already planned, and it’s being put into place as we speak.”
“You mean … the wedding is already planned?”
“Yes. I bought you a dress. I think you’ll like it.”
“Why wasn’t I included in any of this?”
“Because your father’s sickness came on fast. We didn’t have much time. We planned everything. Marco knows you’ll be coming to marry him in a few days. He was notified the moment your dad died. He’s expecting you on Friday.” Friday is just two days away.
“So, I’m just supposed to show up and marry a man I’ve never met?”
“Yes. You won’t get the chance to meet him before the wedding. We need this to happen as soon as possible before anyone can try and hurt us here. If you’re married to a powerful man like Marco Aldi, we will be protected.”
“I’ve never even heard of this man.”
“I know. Your father has had many business dealings with him in the past, but he never mentioned him to you because you didn’t need to know every part of his business. Just trust me when I say that Marco is the most powerful man on the West Coast.”
“But if he lives in LA, how can he offer our family protection in New York?”
“His reach extends far. And this alliance will merge our families’ power. This is for the best. Trust me.”