10. Ilaria
10
ILARIA
I have thought about stabbing Dante in the eye with my butter knife for the last twenty minutes.
Toying with the silver blade as I wondered if I could get to him fast enough or if he would stop it with a single motion, making my attempt look weak.
And I did not want to look weak.
This was the only thing reigning me in from the stabbing I wanted to do.
Dante had his left arm tossed over the back of my chair. The whole time he had been wrapping a fallen curl around his finger or moving his hand to fully rest on my shoulder when he wanted me to look at him.
He played his part so well and I wanted to be furious with him but the way my father was looking at him, that twinkle of happiness dancing in his eyes for the first time in what felt like ages stopped me.
Dante was the son he had never gotten, a hope for the future my father had given up on when he lost his mother.
I was to carry on my fathers dreams. My dreams were the victims in all of this but I was okay with that.
Having my father alive like he was right now was worth it. I wanted him to be happy, have something good in his life.
“September 9th seems far.” Luciano tested it out like he was afraid of hurting our feelings. His words pulling me out of my daydreaming as I looked over from the street I had been gazing at and back at him.
He was looking between us, challenging us to not agree with him but who would be dumb enough to say no to the boss?
“And with the feasts in August…” he made a sound like what could be done and I looked over at Dante who was tensing beside me. He seemed to know where this was going already.
We had picked a date and now we were being told that wasn’t going to happen. The first thing we had done to move forward with this was being taken away from us.
And the way I was looking at Dante, wanting him to say something to fix this but knowing he was as trapped in whatever his parents wanted just as I was. We were just pawns in all of this. No one cared that this was our future that was being dictated. This was our parents’ marriage and they would get their wishes.
“You two could do July 22nd. Get your double digits like the 9/9 you wanted.” Roberta, Dante’s mother offered us this like it was a lifeline. But I was sure that they had all talked about when we would get married and things would already have been in motion.
She had joined us for lunch looking the part of the mafia wife that I was going to have to match. Her eyes had scanned over me when we arrived, looking at me and Dante, trying to get a read on us as we walked up . Judging us silently but with a kind smile that made it seem less harsh.
She was beautiful.
The perfect dark hair coiffed and blown out, full face of makeup despite the heat, black shift dress and black heeled shoes. All looking freshly pressed, no wrinkles or discoloration in the colors.
Mafia wives always looked like they were in mourning, mainly because they were. Though newspapers and media didn’t talk about the bodies, they were still showing up as signs for those who they were meant for. Black was a sign of respect to the families of those lost.
“Dante.” He looked at me and his hand fell on my shoulder, squeezing me like he was hearing me when no one else was.
They wouldn’t listen to me because I was a woman. We all knew that I could say whatever I wanted and would be talked over. I had no status or importance to them right now. I wasn’t his wife yet, just someones daughter. That made me invisible.
“We decided this morning to do September 9th. That will give me the time to have a few successful weekends at The Inferno. As you said papa, there are festivals that we need to think of and going out to September allows us to make sure everyone can be in town to attend our wedding.” Dante spoke calmly, keeping his voice even as he watched them.
My hand went to his thigh, squeezing it in a silent thanks as he looked at me, giving me hope that he was going to be the type of man who stood up for his wife. To fight for me and take my battles as seriously as his. They were rare in our life.
“We’ve already booked the 22nd at St Leonards.” My father sipped his espresso after he dropped that bomb on us.
It wasn’t that surprising to hear plans were already in motion but my stomach still bottomed out.
I was going to throw up.
“All you two need to do is get something to wear for you and your friends and show up. Everyone has been invited. The Sunday paper will have your engagement in it. You two have made us proud and we will take care of the wedding for you both.” Luciano finished, wiping his mouth like he was annoyed we had spoken up at all about our wedding.
Who the fuck cares if we had opinions about our wedding day?
“You’ll need to get a place closer so that the two of you can get to know each other. We have a place on Tilestone you can stay at.” Roberta offered sweetly.
All these decisions were made for me and I hated it. Hated having to bite my tongue and nod along as my life was explained to me without any input from me in them.
I didn’t want to be a docile little wife.
My mother had known that. If she was here she would speak up for me. She’d have never let them railroad me like this.
The illusion I had that there was some chance I could have a say in my life vanished. There was no way I could say no to a husband now that they had done so much. Maybe before I could have gotten out of it.
Maybe if I hadn’t signed my life away I would be allowed to make decisions for my wedding. But I had signed the marriage contract and my right to decide anything along with it.
Who fucking cares? It’s just my life.
“No, Ilaria will stay with me. Since we now have a closer deadline we need all the time to get to know each other. Can her things be moved this weekend?” Dante’s voice pulled me out of the shock and I looked up, waiting for someone to tell him no.
Apparently the male child can only be told so much before everyone just goes with it. He would be the boss one day, after all. They would have to listen to him sometime.
“Are you okay with that, Ilaria?” My father asked, looking at me as I lifted my hand to sip my coffee.
I wondered if I said no if he would stick up for me and deny Dante. The problem was I didn’t want to say no.
I did want to be in Dante’s vapid penthouse. Maybe breathe life into the dead space.
I nodded my head, hand that was on Dante’s thigh squeezing in a silent thank you for trying gesture. He was stuck in this with me and I could tell he was annoyed that we had been blindsided by them.
At least Dante had given me a heads up that his father was a complete lunatic when he was in the elevator with me. It made this conversation easier because I knew what he was going to do. It gave us a united front to play.
“The penthouse is great. It allows me to commute to work as well as start cooking for Dante and figuring out what his favorite foods are.” I smiled, hoping it was sweet and not predatory. Not that I really cared because I was mad and my fiancée was going to deal with the brunt of my rage.
Feeding him arsenic and my bad attitude as a welcome to married life gift.
But I kept smiling at our families, playing the part as Dante leaned in, kissing my forehead just as I watched my four best friends turn onto Hanover street in a cluster that was sure to fuck everything up.
Oh fuck .
Their eyes landed on me and I shrugged out of Dante’s grip, quicker than was probably polite, as I watched them descend towards me ready to create a scene that was sure to be trouble.
Not the time or the place.
They wouldn’t care though. I had dropped the picture bomb on them and they were here to get the details I hadn’t given up in the group chat.
“Excuse me for a second. I just want to freshen up.” I rushed out, eyes not even meeting anyone at the table.
Dante gave me a look as I grabbed my purse headed inside the restaurant with the four girls all getting the hint and shoving in behind me until we all landed in the bathroom.
Tessa grabbed a chair shoving it under the door to block anyone from coming in as Sammie grabbed my hand, yanking it towards her. All of them crowded around, inspecting the diamond on my finger without saying a word.
Their silence scared me
“Did you lose a bet?” Maddie asked, speaking first, heading towards the small window and propping it open as she lit a cigarette. Sammie and Tessa headed over to join her as Becca threw a reassuring arm around me giving me a squeeze like she knew I needed the contact.
These four girls were my life.
We protected each other, loved each other, and survived by being in each other’s life. I wasn’t surprised they had used Find a Friend to track me down and confront me about my engagement.
“Do you love him?” Becca asked, she knew about love and the sacrifice that it was. She had been hurt before and still hadn’t been able to heal from it.
Yet here she was, wanting a love story for me.
My eyes rolled as I headed over snatching Tessa’s cigarette from her hand and leaning against the wall as I took a drag out of it.
I wasn’t a smoker unless stressed out and right now was one of those times.
My friends knew a lot but they didn’t know who my father was or what sort of work he was into. They thought that he was just an Italian with a lot of connections because he was involved in a lot of clubs around town.
I didn’t have the heart to tell them my father killed people for a living and was really good at his job.
Didn’t seem like the sort of thing you could tell people.
Except I could tell Dante.
I could share my whole life with him, not holding back any of the details to preserve his innocence. His soul was stained just as much as mine.
Dante was connected to all this and I didn’t have to hold secrets of my life from him. There would be no scaring him away because he had probably killed people too.
And for some reason that made me feel free.
“No. I don’t love him. I don’t believe in love. And I don’t lose bets.” I added in to answer the past question. They knew all too well about how we gambled with things, “My parents had an arranged marriage. It was something my mother talked about before she got sick. She wanted me to have someone, that safety net that my father gave her. It was her wish.”
It was true.
My mother had been worried about me as she died. Afraid that I’d be all alone. There had been some comfort she got from my friendships but she wanted something like my papa gave to her.
The security of a man was an old school idea. I didn’t feel like I needed anyone other than my friends. But the love for my parents had me trapped.
There were a lot of blank stares as they tried to put together what I had just said. Tessa snatched her cigarette back as they all exchanged looks, thinking that I was losing my mind with this.
Love was something I never wanted to get into with a man.
Love was what had my father standing in the kitchen, cutting off my mothers hair after her first few chemo sessions. The sound of the buzzers as he whispered to her how beautiful she was and she cried; he would think she was beautiful no matter what.
Love was him feeding her limoncello at 3AM because she had been so sick all night and it was the only thing she could swallow. Kissing her dry lips in between bites as he praised her for doing so good.
Love was waking up at 1AM and following my father to her grave and watching him sob because he knew that he had to live in a place without my mother and to him that wasn’t a life worth living at all.
No .
Love was asking too much of someone else, giving too much of yourself and allowing someone into all the moments of your life that weren’t perfect.
I didn’t need love. I didn’t want love. I wouldn’t give love.
“Are they forcing you to marry him?” Sammie asked, looking like she was ready to fight someone. Which I didn't doubt for a second she would do. And I’m sure she would if it meant that she was protecting me in the way she knew how.
If our friend group was like the family Sammie and Tessa would be the enforcers, Maddie would be the consigliere, Becca would be the underboss and I guess I would be the boss .
“No one is forcing me. I signed the marriage contract willingly. It’s just my time to do this. And my dad is so happy. I haven’t seen him this happy since-” I don’t finish my thought because they all know I was going to mention my mother.
They had loved her too and knew the pain of losing her.
Dante had walked us over to the cemetery this morning before we came to brunch, laying a bouquet of flowers on her grave. It was a show of respect that I appreciated from him. But it had weakened me, bringing back too many thoughts of someone I had lost.
It’s quiet, all of us huddled together in a space that we didn’t expect to be. And I feel better having them here with me, stronger and ready to fight for the things that I want.
“Do you think you girls can all be my bridesmaids and maids of honor? I can’t pick just one.” My tone tried to be teasing, to lighten the burden I was laying on them.
We shared everything but I didn’t want to have to share my fear of this marriage with them.
And as I asked it’s chaos as they all start talking over each other about what colors to wear and buying dresses. Someone mentions a party in Vegas and someone else wants to go to Miami and before they can fight I have more news to break.
“I’m getting married on the 22nd of this month.”
A pin could drop and we’d have heard the ping.
The silence as they all look at me, back to thinking that I’m being held hostage and they’re going to plan a rescue mission for me.
Wouldn’t put it past them to try and kidnap me.
“Well, guess we’re going to Vegas next week.” Sammie breaks the silence as we all start laughing like this is funny.
But what else are you supposed to do when everything is about to change?
Except as soon as it’s said I latch onto the idea. Because they don’t know how much everything is going to change and how much it’s going to matter that we have this one last getaway. That this may be the last time that I get to go away and just have a girls trip with my friends with the freedom I know I’ll lose with a new last name.
“Can we, please?” The begging makes them all surprised. I’m usually better at hiding myself.
They’re all looking at me as soon as I say the word and I know they’ll make it happen. They may not know why it’s important to me but they don’t get hung up on that detail.
That’s why friends can be better than family. They don’t have to ask you questions to just know what you need.
“Bitch, you just signed up for a whole lot of crazy.” Tessa warns with a grin.
And I couldn’t be happier.