MOAN: The Cantonneli Mafia
Page 3
I licked my lips. “Nothing’s going to happen to me,” I said, softening a little. “I know you’re worried, Dad, but come on. This is ridiculous! I’m twenty-one years old! Do you know what most twenty-one year olds do? They go out and party! They drink! They dance with their friends!” And they hook up with hot bartenders, I thought, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to say that to Dad.
“Melinda, I can’t have you sneaking out and disrespecting me like this,” he said. “Why don’t you have the girls over for dinner some night? We’ll call Giamatti’s and get steaks catered, and some nice wine. Wouldn’t Cassandra like that?”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s not the point,” I said. “The point is that I should be able to go out and party if I want to! I’m not a child anymore, and you can’t keep me locked up in here like a princess in a tower!”
Dad sighed. “Melinda, I can’t do this anymore,” he said. “I’m getting old. I’m tired.” He stood up from the table, shaking his head. “And if you can’t learn how to behave, you’re not allowed to leave unless I give my explicit approval.”
“But, Dad,” I cried loudly. “This isn’t fair! You’re treating me like a little kid!”
“You’re acting like a little kid,” Dad shot back, growling the words. “You’re acting like a goddamned child, Melinda! Didn’t I raise you better than that?”
I sighed and resisted the urge to glare and stick out my lower lip. On some level, I knew he was right. But I had no idea what I was going to do next. After all, it seemed like things were getting to a breaking point, and I was helpless to stop it.
“Go to bed, Melinda,” Dad said. He shook his head. “You look like a streetwalker in that outfit.”
My cheeks burned with shame as I hiked up the stairs and quietly closed the door to my room. More than anything, I wanted to scream until I was blue in the face. I wanted to cry and kick my legs and shout until I got what I wanted.
But if I was ever going to get any respect from Dad, I knew I’d have to act like an adult.
My face looked plain and puffy when I finished taking off my makeup. I didn’t feel like showering, so I pulled on a favorite old t-shirt and a pair of ratty yoga pants. The comforting clothes usually helped me relax, but not tonight. Spraying my pillow with lavender spray, I crawled into bed and played with my phone until I fell asleep.
In the morning, I smelled bacon and eggs wafting up the stairs before I’d even opened my eyes. The savory smells made my mouth water, and I eagerly pushed the blankets back and pulled a silk robe over my pajamas before venturing downstairs.
Dad was in the kitchen, humming and flipping eggs in a pan. I stared – I couldn’t remember the last Samuele I’d seen him cook. Ever since I was little, Dad had a hired woman, Debra, who came in and prepared most of our meals for us. She also did some light cleaning and took care of all the laundry. I’d never thought about how privileged I was before, but seeing Dad standing in front of the stove suddenly made me feel like a normal girl.
“Hi, Dad,” I said shyly as I sat down at the table. “Why are you making breakfast?”
Dad sighed. “I was up most of the night,” he said. He looked at me and I saw his blue eyes were bloodshot. Dad’s olive skin looked almost sallow, and his hair was sticking up in messy tufts all over his head.
“I’m sorry.” I looked down at my lap, twisting my hands over my thighs and playing with the sash of my robe. “I really am, Dad.”
Dad sighed again. He plated breakfast – one egg for me, three for him – and sat down. His jaw was working like he was already chewing, but I recognized it as a sign of his discomfort.
“Melinda, I know you’re young,” Dad said.
“Dad, I—“
“Wait, Melinda,” Dad said. He looked into my eyes. “Please, let me finish.”
I nodded.
“I know you’re young, and I know young people want to go out and have fun. Melinda, you have to understand that I don’t want you to be unhappy. I want you to have a good life while you’re young like this.”
I bit my lip. I hadn’t expected so much tenderness from him – it was almost enough to make me tear up right at the table. I hadn’t cried in front of Dad in years.
“And I know it must be frustrating,” Dad said. “You’re growing up, you’re more beautiful than ever, and your friends have more freedom than you do.”
I nodded eagerly.
“Which is why I came up with a solution,” Dad said. He smiled tightly, not showing his teeth.
The scent of bacon wafting up from my plate was almost enough to distract me, but now that Dad had me hooked, I couldn’t look away. “What?” I asked softly. “What’s your idea?”
“You’ll have a bodyguard,” Dad said. “Before you protest, no, he’s not going to be an old man. I have just the right man in mind, actually.”
I bit my lip. “Who?”
“Antonio deFiari,” Dad said.
I swallowed. “Him?”
Dad nodded. “Yes, Melinda. Either you have Antonio as your bodyguard, or you don’t go out.” He smiled – this Samuele it was real – and spread his hands through the air, like he was giving me a gift.
I bit my lip. “But…I don’t know him,” I protested. “I’ve only met him once before!”
“Well, you can get to know him at the club,” Dad said. He narrowed his eyes at me, finally picking up a piece of bacon and biting into it. “But don’t expect him to drink and dance with you, Melinda. He’s going to be working, and I won’t have you tempting him.”
“I didn’t even say anything,” I protested hotly. “I haven’t agreed yet!”
Dad chuckled. The old spark in his blue eyes was back. “Well, either you agree, or you stay here until the day you get married,” Dad said. “There ain’t gonna be a middle ground, sweetheart.”
I blushed. “What if I don’t want him?”
Dad frowned. “You’d say that?” he asked. “Melinda, you’re being rude,” he added.
Before I could ask what he meant, Antonio stepped out from the dining room. My mouth went dry at the sight of him. Antonio was tall and muscular, but not bulky like Alexander. His body was lean and finessed, almost like a racing greyhound. He had close-cropped dark hair, dark eyes, and deeply tanned skin. He was wearing an unassuming black outfit, but there was no mistaking the gun holstered to his waist.
“Excuse my daughter, Antonio,” Dad said kindly. He gestured towards the table. “Come, sit with us. Eat something.”
My appetite floated swiftly away as Antonio sat down next to me. He wasn’t wearing any cologne, but a musky scent of tobacco and smoke washed over me. I stared at him until my cheeks grew red.
“Antonio, this is Melinda,” Dad said grandly. “You’re going to escort her out every Samuele she chooses to leave the house.”
“I didn’t say yes yet,” I huffed. I couldn’t look at Antonio for more than a second or two – the intensity rolled off him in waves, like heat from an asphalt parking lot in the middle of August. Just being in the same room as him was making me uncomfortable, and anxious.
And yet, at the same Samuele, I couldn’t stop the small thrill of arousal that was threading its way through my body.
“Well, Melinda, you’ll have to decide soon,” Dad said. He smiled. “Antonio will have to find another job if he isn’t going to protect you.”
I bit my lip. “Let me think about it,” I said, “for a day.”
Dad shook his head. “This isn’t a democracy, Melinda,” he said. “I was very generous by giving you a choice like this in the first place. If you can’t make a decision in two hours, I’m afraid it’s no more socializing for you outside of these walls.”
I groaned. I couldn’t believe how unfair he was being!
The whole Samuele, Antonio hadn’t spoken once. I watched him chew a piece of bacon. His jaw was strong, and there was a dusting of dark stubble over his deeply tanned face. When his dark eyes flickered over me, something hot and fluttery started growing
in my tummy.
“I’m going upstairs,” I announced.
“Melinda?”
“What, Dad?” Turning back around, I put my hands on my hips. “What do you want?”
Dad frowned. “You’ll be back down here within two hours to let me know your decision,” he said shortly.
I sighed. “Yes,” I said after a moment. “I will.”
Chapter 3
Melinda
As soon as I got back to my room, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and called Cassandra.
“Hey,” she said, sounding sleepy. “What’s up?” Cassandra yawned.
I wrinkled my nose. “God, were you still asleep?”
“Melinda, it’s like ten in the morning,” Cassandra said dramatically. “I was out until three. Don’t you think I need my beauty rest?”
I rolled my eyes. “You have to come over,” I said. “There’s something really important we need to talk about.”
“Yeah,” Cassandra said, smacking her lips. “Like why you disappeared from the club last night?”
I bit my lip. “Sort of,” I mumbled. “Just come over, okay? Dad even made breakfast.”
“What’s going on, Melinda?” Cassandra’s voice was suspicious.
“Just come over,” I repeated. “I promise, I’ll tell you everything once you’re here.”
Twenty minutes later, I heard the front door open and slam shut, followed by Cassandra’s quick footsteps up the carpeted staircase. Then she burst into my room holding a plate loaded with bacon and eggs.
“This is good,” Cassandra said, flopping down on my bed. “And there’s a really hot guy downstairs!” She fanned herself, rolling her eyes back in her head. Cassandra’s face was almost as pale as the white-blonde hair that was piled on top of her head in a messy chignon. She wore a loose sweatshirt, which hung off one skinny shoulder, and black leggings. I knew she probably had a killer hangover.
“Hey, thanks for coming,” I said. The siren song of the bacon was too much – after a few moments, I reached for a piece and started crunching away.
Cassandra waved her strip of bacon through the air. “No problem,” she said. “So what’s up?”
I sighed and flopped back, staring at the ceiling. “Well, last night, I was dancing with this guy,” I said. “And he started getting really handsy with me.”
“You slut,” Cassandra said approvingly. She crunched through another piece of bacon. “So you went home with him?”
I laughed drily, thinking of how different my situation would be today if I’d done just that. “No,” I said. “I kept trying to push him off, but he was really persistent.”
Cassandra’s eyes got wide and she made a face. “Oh my god, Melinda, are you okay?”
I nodded impatiently. “Yeah, it wasn’t that bad. I mean, someone else punched him out.”
Cassandra smiled.
“Don’t get too excited,” I said quickly. “It was Alexander.”
“Oh, fuck,” Cassandra groaned. She wrinkled her nose. “Are you kidding me with that shit?”
I shook my head tersely. “God, I wish,” I mumbled. I reached for another piece of bacon and ate it in three bites. “It was definitely him.”
Cassandra frowned. “He’s, um….” She trailed off, looking slightly nervous. “He’s like, your dad’s rival’s son, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. For a moment, the air in my bedroom felt thick and awkward. I didn’t like talking about Dad’s…business with people outside of the family. Then again, Cassandra practically was family. We’d been best friends since elementary school, and she knew almost all of my secrets.
“So,” Cassandra said, puffing out her cheeks. “That couldn’t have been fun for you.”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to tell her about Alexander’s nasty little threat, or the way he’d slapped my ass when I’d finally gotten out of his car. But I still felt the need to vent. “He’s awful,” I said. “He’s arrogant, and selfish, and the biggest prick I ever met! He thinks he’s so hot.”
“Well, he is hot,” Cassandra said. “I mean, objectively speaking. But I know he’s a complete tool.” She wrinkled her nose. “And he treats girls like shit. You know he used to date Catarina Covagara?”
I nodded.
“Well, he dumped her because she was on her period on his birthday,” Cassandra said. We groaned in unison. “He’s a fucking pig,” she added. “No woman should have to tolerate that asshole.”
I nodded. “And it’s tough because I know my dad would hurt him if he ever hurt me,” I said. “But that would cause a lot of problems for Dad, and I’d feel really guilty having to put him in that position.”
Cassandra nodded.
“Dad owns like half of Wilmington,” I said. “Especially the ports. And Alexander’s father has been angling for that territory for a long Samuele.” I sighed, resting my chin on my fist. “I feel like something’s gotta give soon. Dad’s really tense about it. He’s barely sleeping.”
Cassandra nodded again. There was a distant look in her eyes, and I knew I should take it as a warning to cut the mafia talk. For as good of a friend as Cassandra was, I never wanted to put her in danger.
“So,” Cassandra said. “Did you call me over here to talk about Alexander?”
I shook my head. “That guy downstairs,” I said. “He’s going to be my new bodyguard.”
Cassandra shrieked so loudly that I had to plug my ears. “You’re kidding!” She covered her mouth with both hands and giggled. “Oh my god, Melinda, that’s wild!”
I nodded.
“How the hell did your dad break that news?”
I rolled my eyes. “He caught me when I was sneaking back inside last night after Alexander drove me home,” I explained. “And we got in a fight. When I went downstairs this morning, he was all nice and smiley. But he said that unless I accept Antonio as my bodyguard, I won’t ever be allowed to go out again.”
Cassandra raised her eyebrows. “Damn,” she said. “Girl, that’s a hell of a deal.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “And why would you say that?”
“Because he’s gorgeous!” Cassandra said. “Come on, it’s not like your dad is making one of his friends squire you around. At least he picked someone young…and sexy.”
I sighed. “But it’s not like I’m going to date him,” I said. “After all…he’s watching over me. He’s like a bodyguard. I mean, that’s exactly what he is.”
Cassandra and I stared at each other for a few seconds. I knew she was probably thinking everything I couldn’t say out loud. Sure, I was still young. And Dad was being more than reasonable by allowing me to have fun like this.
But I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life going to clubs.
An unfortunate part of being my father’s daughter is that I knew from a pretty young age what my fate would be. It wasn’t college or a high-powered career, but rather an inherited role.
Almost like a princess.
“Well, he looks like a good guard,” Cassandra said cautiously. She looked down at her lap and picked her cuticle. “I mean, he’s not going to let anything bad happen to you.”
I blew a stream of air at the ceiling. “Yeah,” I said, “like he’s going to make sure that no asshole rapes me.” I rolled my eyes. “Because heaven forbid I lose my virginity before I get married!”
Cassandra frowned. “Well….” She trailed off, blushing. “I mean, you know.”
I gulped. I did know. I knew if I lost my virginity, or if I were raped, Dad would have a harder Samuele marrying me off. Being Melinda Cantonneli wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Someday I’d have to grow up – which unfortunately, in my case, meant making a good marriage that would benefit my father and his empire.
“I wish I could just, I don’t know,” I said, feeling frustrated as resentment bubbled up in me like boiling water, “leave. Or be someone else. Why can’t I be you, Cassandra?”
Cassandra wrinkled her nose. “Come on
,” she said. “You wouldn’t give up those boobs.”
I rolled my eyes. “Be serious,” I told her. “I just wish my life was different. I wish I didn’t have to do everything Dad tells me. I wish….” I sighed, knowing it was futile and hopeless. “I just wish things were different,” I said softly.
Cassandra reached over and pulled me into a hug. “I know, babe,” she said, “but your life is gonna be great. Come on – your dad wouldn’t marry you to an ogre, would he?”
I couldn’t answer. There was only a troubling feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I didn’t want to think about it anymore.