Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
DARIA
T he heaviness of silence reached me beyond the Break Free of Ariana Grande . My chest clogged as if something nasty blocked my airways. My fingers stopped tapping, and my eyes skittered across the room. Ariana droned, words about dying alive. Even as the entire room watched me like I was about to, even as I caught Mamma’s face red-lined with fury. My eyes coasted past to catch the two men in the doorway. My brother’s dark face and the other who had his finger pointed at me . What the hell had happened?
Movement orchestrated like a fast-forward after a pause. Mamma stalked over to me, yanked me to my feet, and pulled me up the stairs. She was so harsh that one stiletto twisted off my ankle. Half-way up, my glance jittered to the doorway. Vitale was striding to his office while the Don of New York stood and stared at me like I was the vice to his evil.
Mamma pulled me into my room and threw me onto the bed. There was a mad fury in her eyes that I’d never seen before. “Are you happy now?” she shrieked in my face before pushing off.
I sprang off the bed. I’d made my mamma mad too many times to count on one hand. But she’d never been this mad. Not even when I’d left the gas burner on and gone on my merry way.
“Mamma, I don’t know—” I didn’t really know what I was going to say. I only knew that Mamma whipped around and smacked me across the face for the very first time in my life. I stumbled back, and my breath left me in a whoosh. Shock bristled through my skin as my hand flew to my cheek. I wasn’t sure who was more shocked: me, Mamma, or Orietta standing near the doorway. The sound of skin hitting skin still echoed in the room, or perhaps it was just that my ear was ringing while Burn by Ellie Goulding played around my neck.
Mamma rushed towards me and snuffed my face in her chest. Her voice shook even from within the depth of her bosom. “ Mi dispiace, tesoro mio. Mi dispiace. ”
Confusion and pain marred my vision. I jerked away and fell to the bed, holding my hot cheek in my palm. Mamma dropped down next to me and wiped my tears away with fingers that teetered. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.
“This is why I told you to go away. Why couldn’t you listen?”
Orietta’s face darkened as she stepped into the room. Mamma looked at her as if noticing her for the first time. “What did he tell you?”
Orietta only shrugged her shoulders.
“He must have told you something,” Mamma muttered almost to herself. “We must set this right.” She stood up with determination in every bone of her body.
Confusion fuelled my words. “Set what right, Mamma?”
She whipped around, and I took a step back. Her eyes landed on my headphones around my neck. “Set what right?” She yanked the headphones off as if they were a rattle snake wrapped around my neck and snapped them in two. Medda! When had she gained such strength? “He wants to marry you now,” she screamed in my face.
What the minchia?
My eyes shot to Orietta for some kind of explanation. Any kind of explanation. But she only stood there with her lips in a tight line. I wasn’t sure if she was displeased or pleased about the situation. Displeased, I think.
“But I don’t want to marry that cuinnutu! ” I muttered, sinking to my bed again. Just like that, he went from a future brother-in-law to an asshole like a ride in a theme park. It was already bad enough that he came for my sister, and then he changed his mind?
“It doesn’t matter what you want,” Orietta said tightly.
I looked at her. She was hurt. Of course, she was. What he did was rejection ten point zero, whatever his reason was. I needed to set this right so he would marry her.
I jerked upright and strode towards the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Mamma snapped.
“To talk to the asshole!”
“Language, Daria.”
I crossed my arms. “Really, Mamma, that’s what you are going to focus on?” I swore plenty of times, but only in my thoughts because God forbid good catholic girls swear out loud. “I’m going to talk to him. I don’t know why he thinks he wants to marry me. He’d be perfect for Orietta.”
“I don’t think so.” Mamma and I both looked at Orietta, who sat on my bed inspecting her nails like she didn’t have a care in the world. “I’m not marrying a man who chose my sister. That’s his loss.”
I frowned. “I get that.”
Mamma threw me a dirty look. “You get nothing.” She admonished Orietta. “Daria cannot marry with you still being unmarried. Madonna , what will people say?”
“I’m not marrying him for—”
“Don’t care,” Orietta said.
“What’s wrong with the both of you?” she shrieked. “For once, I’m happy your Papà’s not alive. This would have given him an attacco di cuore! ” I shared a look with my sister. Nah! If fucking all those women never gave him a heart attack… besides, we were in this mess because of Papà.
I strode off.
“Come back here,” Mamma yelled, behind me. The sound of raised men’s voices hit me the moment I made it to the hallway. Minchia! Raised voices when guns were near was never a good idea. Mamma grabbed my arm. “This is men’s business. We have no say in this.”
Fury bristled through my veins till I literally trilled with it. I yanked my arm free of her grasp. “It’s always men’s business, Mamma! It’s my marriage they are talking about!” I pulled free and ran down the steps.
But my urgency stopped when I skidded to a stop outside Vitale’s office. My heart pounded like drums in an orchestra. My hand trembled as I reached for the handle. I glanced up to see Mamma watching me, hands clenched on the banister, worry in her eyes. I knew she only wanted the best for me. Yet, this was my future. I had every intention of going inside and telling the moron Don that he could shove his contract where the sun won’t shine.
“I’m not giving you Daria.” Vitale’s rage-fueled voice shot through the closed door. Not even the solid cherry wood could withhold his wrath.
“Not your choice to make.” The Don’s voice. Thick, gruff, and confident. Like he was selling drugs to an addict, not signing a deal for me.
“We agreed—”
“To marry one of your sisters. I’ll decide which one.”
“Not going to happen, Martello. Daria is way too young for you. She’s twenty-four to your thirty-four. She stays here.”
“You sure you want to do that? Go against me? Not forming an alliance is one thing, but going against me?” Dread riddled my skin and infected it with goosebumps. His dark threat was undeniable. Instantly, it was much more than my marriage on the line. “Do you really want me on the other side? I thought you were a smart man.” My eyes caught on Mamma’s worried one as I blinked back tears. Against all odds, this was it then. I flipped the handle and walked inside.
Vitale stood in the middle of the room while the devil lounged on the windowsill, looking for all the world like he was having a casual chat about sticks and bats, or whatever men talked about when they weren’t pulling guns out and signing marriage contracts.
My brother straightened the moment he saw me. “Not now, Daria,” he snapped.
“Why? Aren’t we discussing my marriage…” I nodded towards the devil, “to him?”
“There’s no marriage, and there’s no him,” Vitale said tightly. “Get out, Daria.”
“Oh, but I disagree.” I let the door shut behind me and turned to the arrogant bastard. He hadn’t moved an inch since I came in. Interest sparked in his eyes. I imagined this was how he watched someone being tortured. He looked all dark, and he was magnetic. I stepped closer to him.
“Daria,” Vitale’s fury was palpable on my back.
I ignored him. I didn’t know what gave me the courage. Didn’t he realize? I would have given up anything for him. The only male in my life worth fighting for.
My feet trembled to a stop a few feet away from the devil. Even though he looked relaxed, he was heavy. And dark. And mad. And “unhinged.” Medda! I think I said that aloud. His expression didn’t alter, but who was I to alter anything of his? His short wavy hair was messed up, like he’d run his hands through it in frustration. Hardly possible. He didn’t look like he allowed frustration anywhere near him. I swallowed nervously as his eyes zeroed in on me. Hazel, like… why was I even noticing these things? I dropped my gaze to his still-open collar. The soft smattering of hair unsettled me.
“So you changed your mind?” I wanted to ooze confidence, but my voice squeaked in fear.
“No.”
My eyes shot up to his. “No?”
“I only agreed to marry a sister. I didn’t say who,” he said, annoyance dripping off his tone.
I closed my eyes for a split second. Please don’t let him see Lia. “Right.”
“Get back here, Daria,” Vitale snapped.
I swatted his words away. My brother sometimes didn’t know what was right for him. I took a step closer and focused on the faint gold chain dangling around his neck. “I’ve always wanted to live in New York.” I lied. I loved Sicily and hadn’t dreamed of leaving anywhere else.
Fascination swirled around me. His smell was so… strong… like a man should smell… I suppose… a man who wasn’t family… who will never be family. My hands reached out to touch his chain, except it caught on his skin. Hot. I jerked my hand away, but his hand caught my wrist. It burned me like an iron brand. “I like your chain.” I hated men who wore jewelry.
“That’s enough, Daria.” Vitale’s voice was right behind me.
Yet it was like it was just the two of us in this room. His tattooed knuckles fascinated me. I hated tattoos. I tried to yank my hand away, but he wasn’t allowing it. I tipped my head to meet his gaze. He watched me with his brows arched and an indecent smirk on his lips. Is he amused? I didn’t know him, and I didn’t know men. I would not know men because they only brought pain and suffering into your life. He was yet another example. He was all that I didn’t want. Still, I pushed words through my lips to seal my life away. “I’ll marry you.”
Vitale yanked me away from him, and the iron hold on my wrist fell away. “Get the hell out of here.” He pushed me towards the door.
The asshole pushed himself off the windowsill and stood. “That’s settled then.” He walked over to the desk, signed the paper, and tossed the pen to Vitale, who caught it. “Sign.”
“No.”
“Your sister has agreed. Are you telling me you’re opposing this marriage now?”
They faced each other like gorillas in a cage. The tension in the air was enough to make bile whirl in my belly, like food poisoning, until I wanted to retch. Thoughts of war, and hidden guns, and blood tainted my mind. The crimson on Papà's body was etched into my retinas. I never wanted to see that again.
My hands crawled on my brother’s arm. He feared for my happiness, but why couldn’t he understand I feared for his life? “Oh, come on, Ale,” I forced the aloofness in my voice and pulled on his arm to get him to step up to the vile paper on the desk. “Sign it so we can get the party started.” My cheeks hurt. Hurt more than the slap from Mamma with the fake smile I was projecting. I glanced at the asshole who now owned me. “What was your name again?”
Oh, he didn’t like that. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he said, “Lorenzo,” in a tight voice.
“See,” I told Vitale. “I’ve always wanted to have a Lorenzo.”