Violet
The next morning…
"Luciano is bringing your friend over," Marcello announces the next morning.
"Pippa?" I squeal.
"The one and only," Marcello smirks at me through the mirror.
He has just taken a shower and is standing in front of the vanity, applying eau de cologne to his clean-shaven face. God, can this man be any more gorgeous?
He's naked except for the granite gray towel wrapped around his slim hips, which emphasizes the broadness of his chest. His wounds have healed, leaving behind a few red scars that blend with other, older, lighter ones.
"I got this for you." He picks up a sleek black card from the vanity and hands it to me. Violet Orsi is printed on the front in gold letters, followed by numbers.
"Pretty optimistic forward planning," I grin, staring at it.
"It's your credit card. It doesn't have a limit." He explains, turning to me.
"What do you mean?" I stare from the little black card to him.
"As my wife, there are certain things that are expected from you."
I have no idea where he is going with this. "Like what?"
"Look, you're beautiful the way you are. You look gorgeous in my shirts, and if it were up to me, that's what you'd be wearing until the end of time."
I look down at the shirt I swiped from him yesterday. It has a little red spot on it from the spaghetti we ate last night. "I can get my things from my place and—"
He shakes his head. "No. Or well, yes, I'll send Alejandro over there. Just tell him what you need, but that's not what this is about. You need a whole new wardrobe. People expect certain things from me, and they'll expect them from you, too."
Understanding begins to dawn on me. "You want me to go shopping?"
"You and Pippa, since it looks like she's going to stay a little while longer with Luciano."
I grin. "Shopping?"
He nods, and I begin a small dance.
His grin deepens. "I'm glad you're taking this so well."
"Are you kidding me? You're handing me a credit card and telling me to go shopping. What could be better than that?" As the words leave my mouth, a few ideas pop into my head, and my face flushes.
"I've assigned a security team to you. Alejandro is one of them, and the others are Bosco, Gus, and Vincente. They'll be in the hall. Here," he hands me a phone. It's light pink—my favorite color—and much thinner than any cell phone I've ever seen.
"What is this?"
"It's untraceable. All your apps and contacts have been downloaded. It has Alejandro's and the other men's numbers in it as well. Whenever you need to go anywhere, call Alejandro; if you can't reach him, call one of the others. I don't want you going anywhere without them."
I'm starting to enjoy this whole mafia thing. I get to have Marcello, and I'm going shopping with my bestie, with an unlimited credit card.
"Anything in particular I should be shopping for?" I ask.
"You'll need everything, from day clothes to ballgowns."
"Gowns?" I clarify. "As in more than one ball gown?"
"I'll introduce you to the family Friday night."
Yeah, things are definitely moving fast. "At a ball?" I ask because that's pretty much all my poor little brain can focus on right now. Breathe, Violet, breathe. It's not like you're going to meet a bunch of murderous mobsters… oh wait. You ARE!
"At a ball," he nods.
I have no idea where to find a ball gown. I've been to the mall many times, but I don't think JCPenney or Dillard's has anything fancy enough for that.
"Where do I go?"
"Alejandro will know." He takes his towel off and struts into his closet. I follow with my eyes glued to the sexiest ass that has ever walked the Earth. "I have a meeting to go to, but you will be safe, as long as you follow Alejandro's instructions."
I know there are a million other things I should be thinking about, my family for one, the bombs that were dropped during yesterday's meeting, my father, and me getting married!
But honestly, all that is just way too much for me right now.
A shopping trip with Pippa sounds like just what my therapist—if I had one—would prescribe.
A few hours away from the drama might do me some good.
"Who are you meeting with?" I ask, because there is so much going on, it's hard to keep it straight.
"Actually, I'm going to the courthouse. The jury is about to announce a verdict in my father's trial." He says, pulling out a pair of black slacks.
I remember his insufferable father coming to the hospital, threatening me, and choking Doctor Waspo.
There is no love in me for that pompous ass, but he is Marcello's father.
A wave of guilt rushes over me—again, it seems like it's been doing that a lot lately.
I've been so absorbed in my own problems that I haven't even asked about Marcello's father. What kind of person am I?
"Do you want me to go with you?" I ask, placing my hand on his hard chest.
"No!" He doesn't even think about his answer.
The look of horror on his face is naked and undisguised, and I won't lie.
It hurts. Then his expression softens, not much, it's more in his gray, stormy eyes than a lessening in the edges of his sharp features.
"I don't want you anywhere near that man.
I don't want you breathing the same air he does," he amends and puts his hand softly on my cheek. "Ever."
Confusion rages through me for a few seconds, but then I think I finally understand. "I wouldn't be there for him; I want to be there for you."
"Ah, tesoro, no," he shakes his head. "We will celebrate tonight while he starts his journey to jail."
I swallow, but manage, "You hate him?"
He thinks about that for a moment, then shakes his head. "No. Hate means I feel something for him, which I don't. The man has been dead to me for years, and that won't change. But I will be happy once he's locked away."
This man, this stranger whom I pledged I would marry, is a puzzle to me, and yet, there is not even a faint sliver of doubt inside me about binding myself to him. I might never fully figure him out, but that doesn't matter to me, because he's already everything to me.
"What if… if… they don't find him guilty?" I need to know.
"That's impossible, but if they don't find him guilty, tesoro," the hand on my cheek caresses me lightly, "you'd be better off being far away from me."
"You're not scaring me away, Marcello," I state, sounding firmer than I feel.
This time he smiles. "I know, my fierce one. Which is one of the reasons I treasure you so much."
He leans forward and brushes his lips over mine gently, not as possessively as he usually does. "Go and enjoy your shopping trip."
Before I have a chance to bring up any other objections, Pippa's voice rings out from the living room, "Yoo-hoo, anybody home?"
"Pippa," I exclaim, beaming.
"Go." Marcello pushes me. "I'll be right there."
I sprint into the living room, where Pippa is looking around with wide eyes, while Luciano watches her in muted fascination.
"Pippa!"
"Vi!"
We embrace as if we hadn't seen each other in weeks instead of a couple of days. And ask simultaneously, "Are you okay?"
We laugh and then, again, simultaneously,
"I have so much to tell you."
"You won't believe what's happening."
And then, just to add to the confusion, again, at the same time, "You first."
Now we're in each other's arms, laughing hysterically.
"What the hell?" Marcello exclaims, closing a cufflink on his shirt.
"Girls." Luciano shakes his head and begs, "Get me out of here, boss?"
"Hold on, I haven't properly introduced you two," I stop the men and pull Pippa forward. "Pippa, this is Marcello, Marcello, Pippa."
They shake hands like civilized people, but they measure each other with their eyes as if they were both assassins. Well, at least one of them is an assassin, or something like that. Great.
"You two have fun and stay out of trouble," Marcello instructs, pulling his jacket on and pulling me into his arms for a kiss.
"Ditto," I tell him, trying to control my weakening knees.
"Soo?" Pippa drags the o out, after Marcello and Luciano have left. "Marcello?"
I hold out my hand with the giant diamond ring on it.
"Shut up," Pippa screams, taking my hand and nearly dislodging it from my wrist. "Wow! That's a piece of beauty."
"I know, right?" I beam.
"Mrs. Orsi?" she whistles softly. "You go, girl." And then, "Are you happy?"
I nod, "Over the moon," I admit, and it's the truth. Despite all the drama in our lives right now, I am happy. The feelings I have for Marcello are already so much deeper than they ever were with Scott.
"I'm so happy for you. You deserve it." Pippa hugs me tightly. Then she looks demonstratively around, "Show me the place," she demands.
"Oh my God, you brought your cat?" Pippa exclaims when we enter the master bedroom last. This was actually my first time seeing the entire penthouse myself, and I'm not sure who is more impressed, her or me.
"Felix? Of course," I defend my cat.
Felix rises from the bed, stretches, and lazily jumps down to purr around Pippa's legs. "Get it off me," she complains.
For whatever reason, Felix loves Pippa. He even leaves my side to snuggle up with her whenever she and I have a sleepover. That she would rather kill than pet him is more of a challenge to him than a deterrent.
"Shoo," she says, moving her foot gently to make Felix leave. Instead, he claws at her legs.
"He wants you to pick him up," I explain, as if that wasn't clear already.
"Will he leave me alone if I do?" Pippa pouts.
"Probably not," I laugh and watch as she gently picks Felix up. I pretend not to see the warm smile she has for him, or the kiss she gives his furry head.
"I suppose you're okay for a cat," she admits and puts him back on the bed.
"Pet him, I need some clothes," I tell her, moving toward the bathroom, which is separated from the bedroom by a short hallway that splits left and right into two closets.
"Hell no," Pippa follows me into my closet, which is the size of my rental house, and glaringly empty, save for the few bags Marcello gave me yesterday. "Wow!"
Yeah, I totally agree with that statement. I watch her as she flings herself onto a small two-seater sofa standing against one wall.
"Why?" she asks, pointing at it.
I shrug, "So that I can talk to my best friend while getting dressed?" I retort.
Her guess on this is as good as mine. I would have never imagined a closet like this. With all its fancy rods, drawers, and shelves. Next to Pippa is a three-panel mirror, which causes her to instantly jump up and strike a pose. "Nice!"
The only thing hanging in the closet right now is the periwinkle dress I wore yesterday.
Inside a bag, I find two more outfits. Black slacks and a red blouse, as well as a mauve colored dress.
I pick the dress because it will be easier to put on and take off while shopping.
"I hope you have an idea of what I'm shopping for," I tell Pippa, "because I don't."
"Do I ever." She grins.
"I'm not even going to ask how," I say, putting on underwear and then the dress.
Her sigh reaches me even while I pull the dress over my head.
"Do you ever pay attention when we watch those movies?" She complains.
"You mean other than the blood and gore you subject me to?" I counter.
"Yeah, besides that," the dress is over my head now, and she helps me zip up the back. "Like when they go to a party, or dinner? Or how they're dressed?"
"When you say they, are you talking about the hunks or the girls?" I inquire.
"Both," she slaps my ass.
"Honestly," I have to think and shake my head. "Not really."
"Let me guess, it's the houses and furniture." Pippa rolls her eyes.
"You know me so well," I laugh, pulling out a small, black purse from another bag. It looks just as pathetically empty as my closet, even after putting the card and phone Marcello gave me into it.
"I hope you know what you're in for," I warn her, indicating the closet.
"The time of my life," Pippa laughs, taking my elbow and steering me back to the living room, where Alejandro and three men I haven't met yet are waiting for us.
"Miss Violet," Alejandro greets me.
"Just Violet," I correct him for the hundredth time, knowing fully well that I'll have to do it again before the day is out.
"These are Augusto, Bosco, and Vincente. Your guards." Alejandro introduces, pointing from one man to another. In their black suits, they look nearly indistinguishable.
"Nice to meet you," I say, shaking each man's hand.
"Ready?" Alejandro asks.
"Marcello said you'd know where we should go?" I stall.
"No worries, I do." He assures me, and we follow him into the anteroom, which seems packed now with all of us waiting for the elevator.
Outside, a large, black SUV is waiting, and Alejandro opens the door. "I'll sit up front; the other three will follow in a separate car."
"Thank you." I feel slightly silly, out of place, and so out of my element, it's not even funny anymore.
Pippa, of course, not only giggles but seems to fit right in.
"Alright, spill," I turn to her once we're buckled and the car begins to move.
"Spill?" She tries to look innocent.
I tilt my head, and a dreamy expression takes over her features. "He took me on a date last night."
"Shut up," I cry, having a hard time imagining Luciano on a date. He just doesn't strike me like the romantic type. "How was it?"
"Best. Date. Ever." Pippa rolls her eyes for emphasis.
"Where did you go?"
She doesn't lose her dreamy expression when she replies, "The shooting range."