Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
LORENZO
F ight first, think later. The Martello attitude was what got me into this mess. The gruff hum of men's voices vibrated in my basement office. I cocked my head, gave a timely nod, and kept the illusion of my rapt attention. Yet all it took was one man, Cesare, I think, to comment that we could now ship our drugs without a hindrance, and my mind rushed to fucking Sicily. I had no idea why I went along with that woman’s manipulative thoughts, but I had a bitter taste in my mouth from doing it, anyway. Even though, sadly, I didn’t regret it. Another family trait of ours. We didn’t regret. Even our bad decisions. Something told me this was one.
Time ticked slowly like the hour hand on the clock. Days crawled by. With it, so did the unease on my skin. A fucking month never felt so long. I should have brought her back with me that very day. I’d already lost Mamma to Sicily. I would not lose my future wife to it. If Di Matteo had a lesser reputation, I wouldn’t have paid heed to his words. But I knew his word was as good as mine. So I let him have his fucking month. To organize whatever he wanted for this wedding. I couldn’t care less about it. I would have married her just the way she stood in front of me in that frilly pink dress that reminded me of candy floss. I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if she tasted sweet like it as well.
But of course, they had to organize two weddings. Two weeks of preparation for each. Wouldn’t you know it? Her sister’s bodyguard stepped up to marry her to save her reputation. I wondered if my soon-to-be wife was as manipulative as her sister.
Wife. It didn’t sound too bad after all.
My phone beeped, and before I knew it, it had slipped off the desk onto my palm, and I was scrolling through image after image of Daria shopping with her mother and younger sister. In the middle of a fucking meeting. That bad decision was itching on my skin. She was already taking up more time than I had bargained for.
But it was simply about her security. I might have trusted Vitale with his word, but there was no way I was leaving something of mine behind without protection. Because there was no doubt in my mind. She was fucking mine.
DARIA
I was dressed in white, while my heart bled red. Divya kneeled at my feet, pinning and unpinning the edges of my dress. She had outdone herself. Not that there was ever a doubt she wouldn’t. She had class. She had a sense of style. She had elegance. Collect them all up and put her in fashion school and you got Boom!
Yet even as she pinned and unpinned the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen, my hands itched to wrench it off me like a hand on my throat. Suffocation. Lorenzo was suffocation for me. Men were suffocation for me.
My eyes burned with unshed tears, and I clenched my molars to keep them away. Mamma bustled in and out of the room. Her turmoil was clear in her jerky movements and sharp words. She’d buried her husband and was about to part with two of her daughters in a matter of a few months. Orietta had married Luigi two weeks ago. A quick wedding to save face before mine. Although she didn’t look unhappy, with Orietta, one never knew. This house was running empty. Vitale moved out a long time ago, even though this house was rightfully his. Soon it would be just Lia and Mamma. And the servants. I tried to imagine the quiet, the empty halls, and came up blank. I’d never known anything other than this house my entire life.
Divya stood up and backed away, her face lined in concentration. Even then, she was drop-dead gorgeous. Antonio really lucked out with this one.
“What?” she asked.
I shook my head. I hoped she’d be here for Mamma, but I didn’t dare voice my words because the tears were too close for comfort. Divya sighed, a dreamy expression on her face. “You look so beautiful, Daria. Like a princess.”
A princess ready to be handed over to a monster.
She twirled me around to face the mirror. My throat bobbed up and down in the reflection as I choked down my tears. She was right. I looked like a princess. The dress was simple and elegant. It was outrageously sexy but innocent. Exactly what Divya was known for. The strapless bodice, embossed in ivory flowers, hung on to my breasts for dear life. The puffed sleeves clung onto the bodice and the rest of the dress flowed freely in chiffon, giving the illusion of being see-through. I hoped this dress would give Lorenzo a kick to the balls. Because that’s what I was planning to do, even though inevitably, I knew there was nothing I could do as a woman, other than lie down and take it, and hope I survived.
My eyes clashed with Mamma’s in the reflection. She smiled tensely, her jaw tight with emotion. Fake smiles and tight jaws were our communication tools these days. “ Molto Bella, tesoro mia. ” My smile wobbled, so I turned and twisted and whirled and let an empty laugh hollow out of my chest and cheated my family of honesty. I halted the moment Mamma left the room. Divya squeezed my hand from behind me. My gaze caught on the girl looking back at me in the mirror. I didn’t regret agreeing to this marriage. It was more of a business contract anyway, only with the duration of a lifetime. But it was only mine. One day, I’d be dead, and this would all be just history. It was only my life, and if I had not agreed, it would have been others before me, I was sure. But Orietta’s words twisted in my mind. If a man like Martello took my virginity, he’d own me! You think I am going to give a man a power like that over me? I already knew that was going to be my regret. Giving him my virginity and all that power over me. I wished it wasn’t going to be like that.
One of the servants came and put a plate of mangoes on the stool next to the window. I absentmindedly reached for it only to have my hands whacked away.
“Really, Daria? Mango stain on your wedding dress is not a nice look,” Divya chided me.
“Don’t they wash off easily?” I asked her absentmindedly. I was not sure why, but a slow blush tainted her cheeks. I didn’t even know she could blush with her darker skin. “What? What did I say?”
She shrugged it off. “Let’s get you out of this dress before you get it dirty.”
She worked tirelessly on the tiny buttons in the back of my dress while the word ‘virgin’ swam around the room like a thick fog.
“Were you a virgin?” I blurted out.
Divya’s head appeared in the mirror. “What do you mean? Weren’t we all at some point?” She gave me a cheeky grin before continuing with the buttons.
A sigh of relief left my body. At least she didn’t shut me down like Mamma had when I brought the V card up. Orietta was no help, and I could hardly ask Lia. There was only a year between Divya and me, but I felt she was wiser. More experienced.
“Were you a virgin when you married Antonio?” I tried again.
“Oh, no. He wasn’t my first relationship. Anyway, first times aren’t that great.” She grimaced before she caught herself. “Wait?” She looked behind her and whispered in my ear. “Are you a virgin?”
Her surprise spoke volumes. She was always so open-minded that I forgot that she wasn’t born in the Cosa Nostra like we were. “Yeah, that’s the Cosa Nostra for you,” I muttered. “A virgin at twenty-four is normal.”
“Oh, and I said…” she trailed off, her face scrunched in a frown. “Just ignore what I said.” She finished unbuttoning the buttons.
“Divya, can you just be honest with me? I don’t have anyone else to ask.” She stalled and nodded thoughtfully. “Does it hurt the first time?”
She came around me and looked me in the eye. “The first time might hurt a bit. There might be some blood. But it’s also okay not to bleed. It doesn’t mean you aren’t a virgin. He’ll be gentle with you, I’m sure. Do you want me to ask Antonio to talk to him?”
“Ugh, no.” I cringed at that thought even as hurt and blood whirled in my mind. I didn’t know the man I was marrying, but he didn’t look like the type to listen to another man. “I’ll manage,” I squeaked.
Divya squeezed my shoulder with a reassuring smile. “You’ll be okay after the first time. With the right man, it’s amazing.” Her eyes dimmed as if her thoughts were on something else. Someone else. “Now go change so I can get the dress pressed.”
I rushed off to change out of my suffocation trap. When I took it off, my skin had turned red with my own agitation. But the suffocation I felt didn’t release even though the dress lay on the bed. My hands quivered as I put on the pink frilly dress I’d worn when he had come. Mamma wanted me to be all dressed up for the family that was constantly passing by for the wedding. A thick sense of tiredness overtook me. It was never what I wanted. I had to dress to please others, never for myself. I was someone’s daughter, and now I was going to be someone’s wife, when I simply wanted to be Daria. It was too late now. I had signed my own fate by saying I’ll marry you . No three words had weighed heavier in my heart.
I got back to Divya, who was sucking on a mango seed, her hands gone all yellow. She did love her mangoes.
I dropped the dress on the dining table just as Antonio walked in. Something sparked in his eyes the moment they fell on his wife, sucking on the mango. The shift in the air was almost tangible. Silent communication passed between the two. He didn’t even acknowledge me, and I felt like the outsider I was. “Let’s go,” he said gruffly to her. Minchia! These two were hot together. It was like they lived in their own world.
It had been a miracle when Papà had approved their marriage. In all honesty, I think even he knew he would lose his consigliere if he didn’t because Antonio didn’t hang around for approval. But it brought us girls hope. That maybe we could marry outside the Cosa Nostra . Maybe there was such a thing as true love. What a joke. It looked like they might be the only exception to the rule.
A heavy twinge of jealousy overtook me, and it ran in my veins, all thick and heavy. Divya rushed off to wash her hands, in a hurry to leave as much as Antonio, who was following her every movement with his eyes. That type of devotion I’d seen nowhere else. Then how could I miss something I’d never had?