13. Chapter 12 Ginevra
My head has been in a daze since my mother told me she has cancer. There’s a part of me that doesn’t believe her. Then there’s the part that knows she’s been sick for a while. I’m trying to be rational, but I’m having a hard time accepting the news.
I walk into my house and call Soren on my cell. His phone rings, creating the same echo in my house. I walk in farther, following the ring tone until he and my mother come into view. They must not hear my steps because neither of them looks up. They sit at the kitchen table next to each other, Soren’s phone lighting up in front of him. He glances at it, not even bothering to decline the call. I stand there, confused as to why they’re together. Soren takes hold of my mother’s hand and a small drop of blood drips onto the paper in front of her. I watch as Soren rolls my mother’s thumb on the white sheet.
“What’s going on?” I cautiously step closer.
Soren gives me his megawatt smile, the one he reserves for other people, and never me. It puts me on edge and my eyes dart from the two of them to the paper.
“What’s that there?” I ask. The hairs on my arm stand when no one answers me. “Why do you have blood on your thumb?”
My mother sighs. “It’s how things were done when your father was alive.”
“I got this,” Soren assures my mother.
Everything in my body is yelling at me to run, but what am I running from? Soren picks up the paper and stacks it. My eyes shift to a small cup that still has my mother’s pills from this morning that she never took, before my gaze narrows in on the big bold letters that read “marriage contract”.
“Why are you holding a marriage contract?”
“I’m doing this to protect you,” my mother replies. “It’s the only way I know how.”
My heart beats faster as I stand there, my mother looking guilty, and Soren…I can’t read the expression on his face.
“W-what?” I stammer. “What do you mean?”
“Ginevra, you and I are getting married.” Soren tells me. His face is studying mine, assessing me. I hate it.
My jaw drops. I’m stunned. I can’t think what to say. The sounds of the room disappear and I just stare at the two of them. Suddenly, the sounds of the house come rushing in ten times louder than before.
“You’re not serious. I have a career. I have a life. I don’t even like him!”
He steps forward, and I step back.
“You don’t love me.” It’s the most obvious thing that comes to mind. I haven’t had time to look for love. I glance at my mother, knowing I haven’t had time because I’m terrified of becoming her.
There’s no way my mother just signed me over to Soren. Any moment, they’re both going to yell, “Gotcha!” My throat ripples as I work a swallow down. Do I want love?
He takes three steps closer, his voice low. “Do you want love?” Is he reading my mind? Our gazes hold, each breath he takes steals from the air around me. Every muscle in my body stiffens under his inquisitive eyes. A mix of unease and frustration coils in my stomach.
“What did she give you for me?” I square my shoulders, not willing to go down without a fight.
“She didn’t have to give me anything for you, but if you must know, I bought this house outright for her.” I watch as he sucks on a back tooth.
“What else?” I demand. Distaste curls through every nerve at the same time, causing a shiver to race through me.
“Her medical bills are now gone, and she has a new team of doctors.”
I look at my mother, restless anger surging beneath my skin. “I could have given you all that. You didn’t have to sell me to the highest bidder!” I try to sound confident and strong, but it comes out weak and defeated.
An arranged marriage. It sounds archaic, barbaric even. I never understood why my mother would want that for me. I may not be looking for love, but I always thought it could be there if I wanted it.
I cross my arms, tuning back to Soren. “You can’t come in here and buy me like some farm animal.” A ghost of a smile flickers over his mouth.
“You cost a hell of a lot more than a farm animal, I assure you.”
“What. If. I. Refuse?”
Soren steps into me. His intimidating build towering over my frame. “Trust me, you could do a lot worse than me.” His voice is cold and hard, with a hint of anger.
“Soren, let me speak with my daughter. Alone for a second.”
He nods his head and steps out of the room.
She grips my elbow, her bony fingers digging into my flesh. “You cannot walk away from this. It’s signed in blood.”
I shake my head, not understanding why they would do that. Gross. “Why?” My lips turn downward.
“Everything will be ripped away from us.” She sighs. “The open disrespect you would be showing if you refuse will only lead down one road. Jude will be forced to dig your grave and put you in it.”
“Are you trying to say Soren will kill me if I don’t?” My eyes are wide, my mouth left hanging open in disbelief.
“Soren won’t have a say in it.” She grasps my hand in hers.
My heart sinks beneath the giant imaginary anchor she’s tying me to. “What the hell are you talking about?” I swear she’s starting to lose her mind.
“Ginevra. Your father used to work for the Moretti Mafia. It’s why they have always paid our mortgage. Soren is one of them.”
Mafia? No way. Soren doesn’t look like a gangster. I’ve seen true crime shows on the mafia. Nope. I shake my head in disbelief. But he had a gun at his birthday party. I’ve seen people walk up to their father and Cyrus and kiss their knuckles. It’s all starting to make so much more sense.
“This would have been what your father wanted.” She pats my hand like that makes it all better, but I don’t even remember my father. “It’s written in blood now. There’s no going back.”
I close my eyes, trying desperately not to freak out. My heart rate rockets as I take it all in, and a sarcastic huff escapes. “Have you ever cared about me?”
“I did this for you.”
I shake my head. “No, you did this for yourself. I’m not sure what’s worse: living in misery and never finding love, or finding love and then living in misery like you.”
She flinches at my words. I’m so hurt and angry. My own mother. I’ve done everything for her, because I love her. And this is how she shows me her love.
“Your engagement dinner with the Morettis is in three days. Be on your best behavior. Jude already has enough on his plate. He doesn’t need being forced to kill his sister on his conscience.”
She dismisses me by turning her back on me. She’s worried about Jude. It’s never about me. I’m never good enough. I was never pretty enough, always too smart in my mother’s eyes.
My cheeks puff out as I blow a deep breath through my lips. The stress of my life sits heavy on my shoulders. I rub at my dry eyes. They feel heavier than they did before. I suppose I need to face Soren.
I head out of our kitchen and see him outside through the window. He’s leaning against his car looking at a pack of cigarettes. His one hand taps the square box on his other hand while he looks deep in thought.
I step outside with no jacket on. The cold Chicago winds have my hair whipping around, hitting me in the face, and I cross my arms in an effort to keep some body heat.
Soren shrugs off his jacket without saying a word and walks over to wrap the leather around me.
“Smoking will kill you,” I say.
“Wouldn’t you be so lucky?” One side of his lips cast up in a crooked smirk.
Neither of us say a word for a few minutes as both of us take in our surroundings. It’s an awkward silence, but one I don’t know how to fill.
Finally, Soren sighs. “Listen, Gin—”
I don’t want to hear what he has to say. Everything is too much right now.
I interrupt him. “What do I wear to the engagement dinner?”
My hands shake as they run down my dress while Soren opens the door to the restaurant. A car stops behind us and I see two men get out. “Are they with us?” I nod toward them.
“I rarely travel alone,” Soren admits. How have I missed this before? Was it just something that I never looked for? I don’t want to believe he’s in the mob, but it’s hard to deny.
I haven’t been able to eat all day with my stomach flip flopping. I’ve never liked the Morettis, and I always felt the feeling was mutual. Now, knowing they’re criminals, it makes me extra nervous. Especially his father.
I have to do this. My mother is going to finally get the care she needs. My stomach dips yet again. Jude will be forced to do horrible things if I don’t. My hands hold my stomach that refuses to settle down.
I stand there trying to discern if Soren is wearing a gun. Wouldn’t a mafia person wear one at all times? Does this mean everyone in his family is packing?
“You enjoying the view?” Soren asks.
An embarrassed squeak leaves my mouth as I realize it looks like I’ve been openly checking him out.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I blurt, needing to get myself under control. He steps forward as if he’s going to follow me in. “Don’t you dare, Soren.” My eyes grow wide and I point my finger at him.
There’s hesitation in his eyes as he studies me for a minute. “Alright,” he concedes, and I let the breath I was holding out. “I’ll wait out here. Hussle up, you don’t want to have your future in-laws waiting too long for you.”
I can’t with him right now. I turn on my heels and shove the bathroom door open with as much force as I’d like to hit Soren with. My entire body vibrates as I stand in the middle of the empty room, not knowing what my next move is going to be. I place my palms down on the cold counter and stare into the mirror.
Why does Soren want to marry me?
I glance to the side and find the window already partially open. I know I said I would come, but…
My palms push off the counter and I stand looking out the window. A pain radiates through my chest. It takes my breath away, making it hard to breathe. I rub at the spot but it does nothing to alleviate the stress. The Morettis will have to forgive me, because I can’t do this tonight. Nope, not happening. I don’t care if I agreed to this. I’m not meeting them while I’m on the verge of a panic attack.
Each second, as my plan forms, I feel better. This is going to be okay. My breathing is a little easier with each intake and I push the window up to its full height. There’s just enough room that I’ll be able to fit through. Not gracefully, but it will work. I try to put my leg up to the window’s height, but I’m not that flexible. I need to stretch more. Maybe I should join a yoga class.
Looking back at the door, I lift my body up with my hands on the windowsill. The metal pushes into my skin harshly and I pull myself through until my body teeters half inside and half outside.
Very unladylike, I try to hook my legs up around the window, praying I don’t fall too hard. My hands stretch out to catch myself on the ground as I dangle before my legs slowly let go of the window and I fall forward.
I fall with a thud, the impact straining my wrist, and I yelp at the sting. Glancing at the window, I stand, brushing off my legs and circle my wrist, stretching them out.
“Coast is clear.” I jump at Soren’s sudden voice, my hand flying to my chest.
“How did you know?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I know you better than you think. We’re in this for the long haul, might as well stop fighting it.” He rubs at his chin. “I must say, I would have never pegged you as a pink panty type of girl.”
Sweet baby Jesus. My cheeks burn crimson at the comment and my pulse strums faster.
He steps closer, invading my personal space. “Maybe we should practice kissing, so my family believes we’re in love.”
I push him out of my space. “Screw off.”
His fingers grasp my wrist and pull me in to his side. “Let’s get this over with,” he sighs, like this is inconveniencing him. Him!
My feet drag, tripping over each other as I’m pulled against my will.
“Does your family want us to marry?” He nudges me with his shoulder, an amused grin on his face. “My brothers support this crazy idea.”
So, he thinks he’s crazy for marrying me. I don’t know how I feel about that comment.
“Oh, I got you this.” Soren lets go of my hand and it digs into his pocket. A second later, he produces a diamond ring. “This is yours now. Never take it off.”
“How romantic of you.”
He grabs my hand and shoves the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly, and is breathtaking. I can’t stop staring at it. If I were to pick a ring, it would be one like this.
“This one seemed the most like you.” He’s still holding on to my finger with the ring slipped on. Tiny sparks ignited along my skin and my heart flutters. That rolling nausea I felt earlier is replaced with this new feeling in my stomach.
Soren clears his throat, letting go of my hand. The warmth of him lingers on my skin, keeping me warm in the cooler weather.
“Come on.” He tilts his head back to the front of the building.