4. Mia
4
MIA
T he estate is in chaos. It’s been less than a week since Papa’s passing, and already the vultures are circling. I stand at the window of my bedroom, watching as yet another sleek black car pulls up the driveway. The sight of it makes my stomach churn.
“Mia?” Bianca’s voice comes from the doorway. “Are you alright?”
I turn to face my sister, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace. “I’m fine. Just… watching.”
Bianca comes to stand beside me, her eyes narrowing as she takes in the scene below. “Vultures,” she mutters, echoing my thoughts. “You’d think they’d have the decency to wait until Papa was cold in his grave.”
I nod, grateful for her understanding. Of all my sisters, Bianca is the one who seems to truly get how overwhelming this all is. Sofia is too focused on running the family now, and Chiara… well, Chiara has always been in a world of her own, especially with a new baby coming in a few months.
“How many does this make now?” I ask, nodding toward the latest arrival.
Bianca’s full lips quirk in a wry smile. “I’ve lost count. But don’t worry, little sister. Between Sofia, Dom, Rork, and me, none of these opportunistic bastards are getting anywhere near you until you’re ready.”
As if on cue, we hear Rork’s booming voice from downstairs. “And where do you think you’re going, you little pissant?”
Bianca and I exchange a look before hurrying to the top of the stairs. From our vantage point, we can see Rork, all six-foot-four of him, looming over a nervous-looking man in an expensive suit.
“I… I’m here to see Signorina Marino,” the man stammers, trying and failing to draw himself up to his full height.
Rork’s scarred face twists into a menacing grin. “Oh, are you now? And which one would that be? Because if it’s my wife you’re after, we’re going to have a problem.”
The man pales visibly. “N–No, of course not. I meant the youngest. Mia.”
“Mia?” Rork repeats, his voice dripping with mock surprise. “You don’t say. And what makes you think you’re worthy of even breathing the same air as her, let alone speaking to her?”
I have to stifle a giggle as the man fumbles for words. Beside me, Bianca is shaking with silent laughter.
“I… my family… we have connections…” the man tries, but Rork cuts him off with a growl.
“Connections? Let me tell you about connections, boy. My connection to you right now is my fist about to connect with your face if you don’t turn around and walk out that door in the next five seconds.”
We don’t even bother to stifle our laughter as the man practically trips over himself in his haste to leave. As the door slams behind him, Rork looks up, catching sight of us on the landing.
“And what are you two laughing at?” he calls up, but there’s a twinkle in his eye that belies his gruff tone.
“Nothing, darling,” Bianca calls back sweetly, her cheeks red from laughter. “Just admiring your… diplomatic skills.”
Rork snorts. “Diplomacy’s overrated. Sometimes, you need to speak a language these idiots understand.”
I can’t help but feel a rush of affection for my brother-in-law as we descend the stairs. He may be rough around the edges, but there’s no denying the protective instinct that drives him.
“Thank you, Rork,” I say softly as we reach the bottom. “I know you’re doing this for Bianca, but… it means a lot to me too.”
Rork’s expression softens slightly as he takes me in. “You’re family, kid. And in this family, we look out for our own.”
The moment is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Again. I groan, but Bianca’s eyes light up with a mischievous glint.
“My turn,” she says, smoothing down her dress. “Rork, why don’t you take Mia to the kitchen for a snack? I have a feeling this one might require a… woman’s touch.”
As Rork leads me away, I can’t help but glance back. Bianca is opening the door, her smile sharp enough to cut glass.
“Why, hello,” I hear her say, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “You must be Signora Cerroni. And this strapping young man must be your son. How… quaint.”
I almost feel sorry for them. Almost.
Rork scoffs. “And you guys worry about me? Your sister is the one with the teeth.”
In the kitchen, I find Sofia and Dom deep in conversation. They look up as we enter, Sofia’s face softening slightly at the sight of me.
“Another one?” she asks, though it’s clear she already knows the answer.
I nod, sinking into a chair at the table. “They just keep coming. It’s like… like…”
“Like sharks smelling blood in the water,” Dom finishes for me, his voice grim as he pushes his dark hair out of his face. “They see our family in a moment of transition and think they can take advantage.”
Sofia’s blue eyes flash dangerously. “They’ll learn soon enough that the Marino family is not to be trifled with. We may be in mourning, but we are far from weak.”
“If they ever doubted that, I think Bianca is making it clear to them that the Marinos are still predators,” Rork muses as he sets a peanut butter sandwich in front of me. “You. Mia. Eat.”
As if to prove his point, we hear Bianca’s voice floating in from the foyer, clear as a bell. “Oh, I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid Mia is far too delicate for such… robust company. Perhaps when she’s older. Much, much older. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I hear my daughter calling. Ciao !”
The sound of the door closing is followed by Bianca’s triumphant return.
“Well, that’s another one dealt with,” she announces, helping herself to an apple from the fruit bowl. “Honestly, the nerve of some people. You’d think they were trying to acquire a prize mare, not court a young woman.”
I feel a rush of gratitude for my family, for the way they’ve rallied around me. Mama has taken to her bed since Papa passed and has refused to come downstairs.
But at the same time, a sense of determination wells up inside me. “We can’t keep this up forever,” I say, my voice stronger than I expect.
The room falls silent, all eyes turning to me. Sofia leans forward, her gaze intense. “What are you saying, Mia?”
I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders, ignoring the sandwich in front of me. “I’m saying that while I appreciate everything you’re all doing to protect me, we need to start making real plans. Papa… Papa wanted me to find a suitable match. I want to honor his wishes by my eighteenth birthday.”
Dom raises an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with Sofia. “Are you sure about this, Mia? There’s no need to rush into anything.”
But I shake my head, feeling more certain with each passing moment. “I’m sure. Papa trusted me to make this decision. He believed I was ready, and I want to prove him right. I want to do this for him, for our family.”
Sofia studies me for a long moment, her expression unreadable.
“Sofia, you promised,” I point out. “In Papa’s library. You said we could host a gathering for my birthday so I could meet eligible suitors.”
She nods. “I did. Alright, Mia. If this is what you want, we’ll support you. But we need to do this smart. We can’t just throw open the doors and let every fortune hunter in the area have a go at you.”
“Agreed,” Dom says, his tactical mind clearly already at work. “We need a controlled environment. Somewhere Mia can meet potential suitors on her own terms, but where we can keep an eye on things.”
A small smile plays at the corners of Sofia’s lips. “A gathering seems too informal. How would you feel about a ball, Mia?”
For a moment, I’m speechless. A ball? The idea is both thrilling and daunting. But as I consider it, I feel a spark of excitement ignite within me. “A ball,” I repeat, tasting the word. “On my birthday?”
Sofia nods. “It would give you a chance to meet the suitors in a setting where you’re comfortable. Where you can be yourself.”
“And where we can vet the guests,” Dom adds. “Make sure only the most suitable candidates are in attendance.”
I feel a smile spreading across my face. “I love it. It’s perfect.”
Bianca claps her hands together, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “Oh, this is going to be wonderful! We’ll need to start planning right away. We don’t have much time. Dresses, decorations, the guest list. Maybe this will finally get Mama out of bed…”
As my family begins to discuss the details, I feel a mix of anticipation and nervousness building within me. A ball. My ball. A chance to meet potential suitors, to take the first step toward honoring Papa’s final wish for me.
It’s daunting, yes, but also… exciting.
The rest of the day passes in a blur of planning and more turned-away suitors. I watch in awe as Sofia coolly dismantles the ambitions of a particularly persistent man with nothing more than a raised eyebrow and a few choice words about his family’s “questionable business practices”.
Chiara and Dante arrive later in the afternoon, bringing with them a sense of calm that seems to settle over the entire household.
As evening falls, I find myself once again at the window of my bedroom, looking out over the grounds of our estate. The stream of cars has finally slowed to a trickle, and a sense of peace has descended on the house.
A soft knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. “Come in,” I call, turning to see Sofia enter the room.
“How are you holding up?” she asks, coming to stand beside me.
I offer her a small smile. “Better than I thought I would be, honestly. I feel… purposeful.”
Sofia nods, her gaze searching. “You surprised us today, you know. With your determination to go through with this.”
I shrug, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. “I just want to make Papa proud. To show him that his faith in me wasn’t misplaced.”
“Mia,” Sofia says softly, placing a hand on my shoulder, “Papa was already proud of you. You don’t have to prove anything.”
I nod, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “I know. But this feels right, Sof. It feels like what I’m supposed to do.”
We stand in companionable silence for a moment, both lost in our own thoughts. Finally, I gather the courage to ask the question that's been nagging at me.
“Sofia… do you think I’m ready for this? To choose a husband, to take on all that responsibility?”
My sister turns to me, her expression serious but kind. “I think you’re more ready than you realize, Mia. You’re smart, you’re perceptive, and you have a good heart. Those are invaluable qualities in our world.”
I nod, feeling a rush of affection for my sister. “Thank you. For everything. For supporting me in this, even though I know you’re worried.”
Sofia pulls me into a hug, and for a moment, I let myself be comforted by her strength. “That’s what family does,” she says softly, her eyes bright. “We support each other, no matter what.”
As Sofia leaves, I turn back to the window, my mind whirling with thoughts of the upcoming ball. In just a few short weeks, I’ll be eighteen.
An adult, at least in the eyes of our world, expected to make a choice that will affect not just my life, but the future of our entire family.
The thought is daunting, but as I watch the last rays of sunlight fade from the sky, I feel a sense of determination settling over me. I may not know who I’ll choose, but I know that I’m ready to face this challenge head-on. To honor Papa’s memory, to do my duty to my family, and maybe, just maybe, to find a partnership as strong and true as the ones my sisters have found.
I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. Whatever happens at that ball, whatever the future holds, I’ll face it with courage and grace.
Because that’s what it means to be a Marino. And I’m ready to prove that I’m worthy of that name.