Chapter 33 – Isabella
“ I t is important that you remember this passage, and the place it puts you in, Isabella,” the priest droned. “Submission in a wife is truly a beautiful thing.”
My fingers dug into the flesh under my thighs. There would likely be bruises marking my skin, but it was either that or strangle the man of God.
“Reverendo Don, you are forgetting that it is my duty to love and care for my wife—” Alonzo gestured to me “—as Christ did for the church. This passage isn’t about the subjugation of women, but rather it spells out the blessings for all relationships in light of the gospel message.”
I cut Alonzo a look. Did he honestly think he could persuade the misogynistic priest on such a volatile scripture passage?
“It says first that wives submit to their husbands,” the priest insisted. “The marriage starts there, signore.”
Yeah, because a celibate knew the first thing about the most intimate relationship designed at the beginning of the Bible. I had to blink so as not to roll my eyes.
Alonzo shook his head. “But I’m to love her as Christ loved His Bride, the Church. I’m to lay my life down if necessary for her, putting her first in everything.”
It was noble of my fiancé to try.
Damn, Lonzo is a noble one.
A sigh relaxed my shoulders. It was a pity that I didn’t want a noble one. Inky, ghostly tendrils raked across my skin, and as a cloud passed over the sun outside, throwing the priest’s office into gloom, a delicious shiver rattled my bones. The darkness tempted me to thoughts about a certain monster.
Tuning out the theological debate, I let my mind wander over the encounters in the dark. It was as if the spectre were the other half of me. My body burned for him. But it wasn’t only passion that seared me. There was a completeness when I was with him. If I believed in soul mates, my soul called out to Ilya’s—
And there was a response each and every time.
I want…more. Cutting a look to the man I was supposed to marry, I sighed softly. More wasn’t in the cards. There was no telling how far the Russian would go, but he needed to leave town. There could be no relationship with the cage fighter. Like the ancient Roman poet, whose words I wore around my neck before I lost that pendant, we were doomed to be forbidden, unrequited lovers.
Alonzo rose and offered me his hand. I blinked before gathering my senses and let him help me from my chair. The priest said something about the next premarital counseling session’s date, but I was too busy expressing gratitude that today’s torture session was over.
We filed out of the office in silence. The interior of the sanctuary was cloaked in shadows. There was a haunting beauty evoked by the gothic sanctuary. A deep breath filled my lungs with the lingering scents of incense and oil from the candles.
If I was alone, I would have wandered the aisles as my mind escaped reality to go to a different time, a different place, or perhaps both.
But the thin, warm, and slightly damp fingers laced through mine grounded me to my fate. Although he didn’t say a word, Alonzo’s presence was noisy. Distracting might have been a better word.
“Isn’t it eerie?” he whispered, a smile touching his lips.
It was. Until he opened his mouth to comment on it. I murmured in assent as the spooky, ethereal energy ebbed.
“Makes you feel as though there really are angels or saints present,” he mused. “But the good ones. Evil doesn’t have a home in the house of the Lord.”
An argument formed on the tip of my tongue as to the bad people who came here to worship while their hearts remained unrepentant. But I shook my head. The otherworldly beauty was gone, and I was reminded only of the true reason for our visit today—that we’d been forced here by Alonzo’s aunt for some premarital counseling. Not even my vivid imagination could salvage a fantasy from the stark truth of my reality.
I tugged my fiancé along, stopping only at the exit where the guards escorted us to the two waiting vehicles. The thick wool of my coat slid over my shoulders, but the cold still shocked my system as I stepped into the chilly fall day. I hurried to put gloves on my already stiff fingers. Poor circulation and cold didn’t mix well.
“I’ll drive,” Alonzo informed the goons. “Please let us have a moment of privacy.”
The bodyguards looked at one another, but I took advantage of the situation to move to the front passenger seat. Alonzo helped me inside, before rounding the SUV to take the wheel. The guards would follow in the second vehicle, of course, but for a moment there was privacy.
I closed my eyes, letting my strangled emotions run free and clear.
“I won’t require a promise of monogamy from you,” Alonzo said quietly.
My eyes snapped open to stare at the red light high overhead. Stale heat blasted from the vents, but I was suddenly too hot. I turned to the guy who technically wasn’t out of his teens.
“Lonzo—”
“Our wedding vows, we’ll write them together,” he asserted, gripping the wheel tight and accelerating quickly when the light blinked to green. “I won’t use the words obedience or faithfulness. Something like devotion, consideration, or caring. I think we can manage those things, don’t you?”
The breakfast of egg whites flipped in my gut. While I was technically flirting with a shadow, it didn’t feel wrong. Actually, I felt guilty for not feeling guilty. This thing with Alonzo was a business deal. I was lucky enough to consider him a friend, but nothing more. If I wanted him, truly wanted a future with him, maybe I would feel bad for what I did in the dark.
But if I was being honest, I was being unfaithful to my heart by knowing that I would have to make my spectre leave town.
That was the true betrayal.
“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, folding and unfolding my hands.
“It’s the right thing.” Alonzo bobbed his chin. “Eight years down the road, I don’t want you held to a promise to be faithful if your eye wanders.”
Why would he bring this up? There was no way he knew my secret. I’d given no indication that my heart, mind, and body ached for another.
And then, it dawned on me. He didn’t want to be sworn to monogamy. It wasn’t just the generosity of his nature, it was something more that drove him to make the proposition.
“Fine,” I agreed. “But only if you promise to make yourself happy too.”
“Are we bad to mock the state of holy matrimony by agreeing to this?” he asked bitterly.
“I’m not sure even after the grand march down the aisle, the ceremony, and the lavish reception that I’ll see you as my husband,” I admitted. “You’re my friend. A union is just something we have to do.”
He sighed sadly. “I know you’ll never see me as the hero in your story. No matter what I do.”
“Lonzo,” I moaned. “You’re making this impossibly hard.”
“No, it’s really simple, Isabella. You need someone who can slay your enemies and put you on a throne. My father might hold the title, but the ruling position goes to you.” He tapped his finger on the steering wheel. “I’m not strong enough to carve your kingdom and help you hold it.”
An admission fell from my lips. “I never wanted to rule.”
“But you were born for it.” With that, Alonzo reached over, plucked my gloved fingers, and kissed the backs of my hand.
The sentimental comradery sent a rush through my heart. It beat pitter-patter, aching for what could never be, and yet overjoyed that there was companionship with this boy. Alonzo understood me. Didn’t that make me lucky in my mate? If I tried, I could see myself surviving through the future.
Survival mode was an exhausting place to exist.
I pulled my hand from him, suddenly overwhelmed.
“Gio was technically the next in line, if he’d been given the chance to earn the title,” I deflected, the words coming out of my mouth in a rush.
Alonzo squeezed my fingers before letting them go. “My father and his crony never saw Gio as the true threat, Isabella. They could mold him into whatever they wanted—hell, I think they’re doing it now. And if he didn’t cooperate, there are always ways to dispose of him.”
Truer words had never been spoken.
There was a bite to Alonzo’s voice. “But you? It’s why they’re so eager to control your life because they can never change you .”
“Well, they’re not here now, so how about we get some lunch? My treat. Whatever you like so long as it’s not a 200-calorie salad,” I chirped.
My fiancé grinned. It made his face look impossibly young.
As he took a turn toward a fast-food joint, I couldn’t help but feel extreme hatred for his family. They weren’t just controlling me, but him! He had dreams. He wanted to make choices. Since his hands were tied, he was trying to give me that.
“Since we’re being honest,” Alonzo said after placing an order for a ridiculously gluttonous meal in the voice box. He slowly crept to the takeout window, braking behind the three cars in front. “There’s something you should know.”
I knew better than to tease his serious tone. He wanted me to take him as a valued member of the organization. I bit my tongue and nodded. His next words wiped the urge to smirk off my face entirely.
“Your parent’s deaths. I don’t think they were accidental.”
Suddenly the idea of greasy tacos and Baja Blast slushies made me want to vomit. The fast-food smell trickling through the open window threatened to choke me. The world spun, the great bell on the logo seemed to clang in my ears, and I gripped the side panel of the door to steady myself.
“What do you mean?” I struggled to ask.
Alonzo pursed his lips. “I overheard my father speaking to the underboss. From their argument, it sounded like they could have stopped your parents’ deaths. But then Tullio said something that made it sound like he arranged the whole thing. That my dad owed everything to him.”
A loud buzzing roared in my ears.
Alonzo cursed. He leaned over, grabbed the back of my neck, and pushed my head between my knees. His instructions to breathe came to me through a fishbowl, muting and distorting his voice. If only my lungs would work properly, I could master the rush of emotions drowning me.
“I can’t go back to the mansion right now,” I choked out.
“Oh, uh, okay.” Alonzo sounded panicked.
I cut a look and saw the way his eyes danced frantically about. Pulling myself together, I forced the physical reactions to cease. I could fall apart later.
I had to wait till later.
When I was alone—when I was alone and could think.
“I’ll be fine,” I gasped. “Just get the food and drive around.”
“We’re not going to be allowed to do that,” he muttered bitterly. “I’m only eighteen, not even a vetted soldier for crying out loud.”
“And we have babysitters,” I finished sardonically for him. “I know, Lonzo, I know. Just…find somewhere for us to go, okay?”
My fiancé drummed his fingers into the steering wheel. “I guess we could go to Tommy Gianetti’s. He said he’d loan me a few books.”
“Good.” I leaned back and focused on box breathing. Inhale for three counts, hold for three, exhale, and hold again for three a piece. “That’s good, Lonzo.”
“Are you mad I told you?” he whispered.
I shook my head but stopped. The sudden movement didn’t feel right given the queasy state of my stomach. “I should have known. Maybe part of me suspected, but I didn’t want to believe my father’s most trusted men could do something like that.”
After collecting the food, Alonzo sped away. I hesitantly sipped the cold, sugary drink. The fake dyes and refined sugar did wonders. By the time we pulled up at the two-story house where the capo’s son lived, I dug out a soft shell burrito.
Munching on the sustenance, I followed Alonzo inside. The guards exited their vehicle behind us, not bothering to sweep the area. I inwardly fumed at their lack of care for their job.
Trudging up the steps, I noted the cheesy Halloween décor. Plastic pumpkins were zip tied to the porch to create an arch. The fake candles inside would create quite the light display. Inflatable objects lay flat on the brown grass, waiting for the switch to be turned on so they could fill. Cotton was strung across the corner with black dots that one could almost believe were spiders if not for staring too closely.
And Mrs. Gianetti flew out of the door, covered in blood and screaming.
For a split second, I thought she was a prop. A fake housewife with motion detection to scare guests who tripped the signal on her porch.
But I knew her face. Her husband was the oldest capo in our organization, and she’d been around for most of my life, while recently she’d been a vocal participant in my bridal activities.
That wild look in her eyes was new. The blood splattered over her face was real . It coated her hands and was smudged on her face.
Her words to Alonzo didn’t process, but he quickly handed the frantic woman to me while he rushed into the house.
“Masked man with lifeless eyes. It’s the devil, Signorina Rinaldi. The devil has come for us!” she wailed.
I clutched her to me, feeling the warmth of her body. Blood stuck to me. Something splattered on the ground. It was my burrito, mushed beans spilling out in a garish Rorschach inkblot. The image I saw was brains.
Alonzo rushed back outside, phone pressed to his ear. “He won’t pick up,” my fiancé growled. “The don is always ready to screen my damn calls.”
I’d never heard Alonzo sound like a mobster. But he did now. In a way, it was more surprising than seeing the capo’s wife covered in blood.
“Call your aunt,” I suggested. “She can find your father and sound the alarm.”
“We’re cursed, cursed !” Signora Gianetti screamed.
I tugged her behind me, planning to force the slightly smaller woman into the back of Alonzo’s car. Something in the distance prickled at the back of my neck.
“Who did you say did this?” I hissed, tugging her along. She was shorter but had a good fifty pounds on me.
“The devil—”
“No, before that. A mask? Grey eyes?”
The signora nodded. “There was no color. They were cold, so very cold.”
“Did he speak?” A sudden chill swept down my spine. It shook my body.
“He didn’t have to. He moved like a shadow. A great, big, black shadow! I just know he was sent straight from hell!”
“So he didn’t speak?” I repeated.
“No,” she wailed. “He just killed them—killed them all!”
The spectre didn’t speak. That was good, right? They couldn’t hear his accent, slight though it was.
Shit, what am I saying?! Was I actually condoning this…murder? The Gianettis were my people. My famiglia.
Anger spiked in my veins, burning away the fear. How dare he. How fucking dare he!
“My boys aren’t the first to go,” the signora sobbed. “There’s been soldiers dying all over town.”
The deception slipped quickly and easily from my lips. “That’s what happens when we’re at war, signora. The Scorso Famiglia has taken many lives.”
She only nodded absently. Shock was settling in, and her gaze was turning sightless. I hurried her to the backseat, depositing her into the vehicle.
I just lied—for him. For my spectre.
I rubbed the back of my head as I looked around the seemingly happy, safe suburban neighborhood. He was out there, destroying my world, and I was the fool defending him.
“There are going to be rules,” I snapped under my breath. “If we’re going to play, the phantom is going to play by my rules.”
With that declaration, I slammed my fist into the hood of the car.