Chapter Twelve
Vida
“I t’ll be over soon,” Isabella whispers in my ear as we sit together and chat.
“I know, I really need to sleep,” I say, fiddling with my dress like I always do when I’m tired.
“I can see that. Mom and Dad need to get back home,” Isabella states, looking at our parents, who both seem to be mingling well.
“And you? When do you leave?” I ask, turning my attention back to her. I knew that my parents wouldn’t stay, as they have work and other things to go and pick up, but I’m really hoping she’ll stay a while.
“I got the job,” she says. I shoot her a smile, happy for the news but sad she’ll be leaving me.
“Oh my goodness! Izzy, that’s great news!” I say excitedly, wrapping my arms around her in a hug.
“You’re not mad? I’d have to leave tomorrow with our parents,” Isabella says, her worried eyes searching mine.
“Mad? Why would I be mad? You’ve waited for this job for months, Izzy, you’re going to finally leave home and move to the big city. I’m so happy for you,” I assure her.
By the way she looks at me I can tell that my words mean the world to her. I understand how much this means to her. Landing a job with a tech company this big was near impossible, but she did it.
“Thank you, Vee, it means so much. I’m sorry I can’t . . .”
“Please stop! No need to apologize. I understand and it’s okay. I’m just so happy for you,” I say sincerely, squeezing her hand. “Have you told Mom and Dad yet?”
“I will later tonight. I wanted to tell you first,” Isabella giggles.
“And you have. Now, go tell them so Mom can pray for you,” I tease, knowing how Mom prays about everything.
“And Dad can brag to his new friends?” she adds, looking over at Dad as he laughs with the man he’s talking to.
“Exactly!” I agree, the two of us laughing.
“Be back soon. Try and say something to him,” Isabela adds, nodding at Ciro before standing up and walking away.
I haven’t said a word to Ciro since we sat down. My feet and I were grateful that Franchesco found us when he did, but I hadn’t expected Ciro to leave the people he was talking to just to come and sit with me. It just made things more awkward than if I was sitting alone.
“We have a visitor,” Ciro says softly, making me raise my head.
My blood runs cold as my eyes spot an all too familiar face, one that even though I only saw it once, it was still long enough for it to be burned into my memory. “What the . . .”
“What a beautiful wedding,” Donato says, clapping his hands dramatically slowly as he walks towards us with three men walking closely behind him. One was one I recognized from the day he dropped a dead rat on my car.
“Donato,” Ciro says, sounding happier than you’d think he would sound as he stares down the man trying to kill his wife.
“Ciro! I hear you’ve taken over from daddy,” Donato says, his tone mocking.
“That’s correct.”
“I was a little disappointed when I heard you were getting married to a mutual friend, to say the least,” he says, turning his gaze on me with an evil grin.
“Friend?” Ciro asks, looking at me before turning his gaze back to Donato. “I had no idea my wife was a friend of yours, my apologies.”
What is he playing at? He knew about Donato already, so why is he playing nice?
As I stare at the two men, my confusion makes way for my anger and my lips press into a thin line. How dare Donato show his face here with the men he’d sent to threaten me and who probably trashed my room. It only makes me more mad that Ciro is playing dumb and entertaining him. Was he doing this to spite me? But for what, wearing his mother’s necklace? Was this really the protection Luca had promised?
“There’s nothing to forgive, brother,” Donato laughs. Brother? Isn’t that reserved for close friends or family? Is Donato close to Ciro? This doesn’t make any sense.
“My invitation must have gotten lost in the mail, but good thing you’re here,” he says, making my head turn in his direction.
What does he mean by . . .
“My wife and I kept an apology gift for . . . friends who didn’t get their invitation. So I guess we’ll start with yours,” Ciro says, reaching into his suit pocket and pulling out a little box.
What was this about? I don’t trust Donato, but if I’m being honest, I don’t trust Ciro either.
“A gift? For me?”
“My wife actually,” he says, stretching out the box to me. “But I’m sure she wouldn’t mind giving it to you, as an apology for not inviting her friend.”
“What is this?” I ask through gritted teeth, trying my best to stay calm.
“Trust me,” he says, more like an order than a statement.
“I don’t,” I reply, taking the little box from him.
“Am I witnessing the first quarrel? It must be my lucky day,” Donato interrupts, clapping his hand and getting some attention from those around us.
If giving the box to Donato will get him out of my sight, then so be it! I stretch the box out to Donato, my eyes never leaving his. I will not cower in front of a shameless man, especially not this one.
“Thank you, Vida,” he says as he takes the box.
I thought hearing my name come out of Ciro’s mouth was the worst thing in the world, but I was wrong. I hate the mere thought of Donato even knowing my name.
“What is this?” Donato asks, snapping me out of my thoughts. I follow his gaze but can’t see what is inside the box that has gotten this reaction out of him.
“What is this, Ballera!?” he yells, his face turning red as his eyes glare daggers at Ciro.
“My wife’s gift,” Ciro says, a tone of pride dancing on his lips as I wonder what in the world could be in there that would make Donato this riled up.
“What?” I ask as I look at Ciro. Before he can answer, Donato throws the box at him, hitting him in the chest.
My breath halts in my chest as my eyes land on the contents of the box. A finger! It looks like it had been roughly cut off by a saw or something. It has a ring on it, a big golden ring with some sort of family crest.
“You will regret this, Ballera, I will fucking kill you!” Donato yells, but instead of his finger being pointed at Ciro, it’s pointed at me.
I watch as Ciro stands and the guards that have been scattered around the room quickly change formation. No one here looks scared by what’s happening, except my family who all stand close to Luca and Matteo.
“You will not come to my wedding and disrespect my wife, or I promise you, Donato, I will make you eat your fucking balls!” Ciro growls.
Shivers run through me as his words leave him. I want to think he is making lame threats, but I’m not stupid. I know for a fact that he isn’t joking. The finger in the box just proves he doesn’t have a problem chopping things off of another human being.
“This is war, Ballera, you know this,” Donato says, his body practically vibrating.
“It has been war since the second you dared talk to her family in court.”
How does he know?
“You will start a war for . . .” he starts but something has him stopping and taking a step back.
“I will start, I will end, and I will bring the fucking war to Earth for her! Now, get out before you lose more than your cousin did,” Ciro warns.
He doesn’t mean that, right? He can’t!
“You have no idea what you have done,” Donato says to me before turning and heading towards the exit.
Once he and his men are out of sight, the party returns to normal, almost like everything that just happened was a figment of my imagination. I turn to Ciro and watch him pick up the finger and put it back into the box. He closes it and puts the ribbon back in place before handing it to me.
“Here,” he turns to face me, “I made sure he suffered,” he says, his face not giving away any of his emotions.
This is the part where I should say something, but nothing comes out of me. I slowly take the box from him, watching as he stands up and leaves. Why do I feel bad about not saying anything? What could I have possibly said though? No one has ever cut off a man’s finger for me before.
“Jesus! Vee, are you alright?” Isabella asks as she comes and hugs me.
“What?” I ask, blinking away the thoughts that cloud my mind.
“What happened? What was in the box?” she asks, her gaze on the box in my hands.
“Oh, it’s umm . . .” I start, my brain struggling with how to explain all of this. A finger? That was what it was, right? So why does it feel so weird to say?
“Can I?” Isabella asks, taking the box from me and opening it before I can register what’s happening. “Jesus! What the fuck!”
“What is this? Did Ciro do this?” she asks, a look of disgust and horror scattered on her face.
That’s when it hits me. Wasn’t this the same reaction I should’ve had? Wasn’t this the same expression that should’ve been on my face when I saw the finger? So why was it different and why did I . . . like it? Why did it make me almost happy when I realized it was Raphael’s finger in the box? Is something wrong with me? Or am I just not thinking straight anymore?
“It’s nothing. I’m fine, I swear. I’m just a little shaken up, but I’m fine,” I lie.
I’m not shaken up. Something about what happened excites me. The look on Donato’s face, the cut-off finger, and . . . no, I can’t let myself go down that line of thinking. I turn to everyone in the room, taking a deep breath before turning back to Isabella.
“I don’t think I need to greet anyone again, how about a book to take my mind off things,” I say with a smile.
“You want to read a book on your wedding day?” Isabella asks with a laugh.
“I couldn’t finish it on the plane and I’ve been so busy getting ready for today, let me finish it!” I whine.
“They will think you’re crazy,” she laughs.
“Childhood friends are about to become lovers,” I say, referring to the book I’m reading. “I don’t mind looking crazy in front of a bunch of strangers.”
“Fine! I’ll go get your porn book,” Isabella teases, wiggling her eyebrows at me.
“You watch it, I read it, we’re one and the same.”
“I’ve heard that a million times, now bye.” With that she leaves, heading to the dressing room where I left my purse and book.