Out of Bondage

by Jamila Jasper

  * * *

  “Care to tell me what I did wrong?” Eve asked after they’d walked a couple more blocks in brooding silence.

  * * *

  Daniella pouted.

  * * *

  “I don’t appreciate the insinuation that I’ll start feeling some kind of regret if I find out more about who Domenico really is. I know that he’s not like normal guys my age. I’ve known that since I’ve met him.”

  * * *

  The eyes of the gorgeous biracial young woman filled with a delightful energy the instant she began to speak about Domenico. Just thinking about him sent powerful pulses of poetic energy pulsing through her skin and her speech quickened as she began to speak about him.

  * * *

  “Domenico isn’t a perfect man but I knew what kind of man… boy… he was when I met him. I’m here with him on the journey of his life, not because I want to change him. I’m not immature enough to regret that.”

  * * *

  Eve took in everything that Daniella had said. She had to admit that Daniella had a point. She was proud of her maturity and surprised that she couldn’t be at that place herself. A part of her really had wanted to change Nico. Now it was becoming clear that she would never be able to change him and she’d have to get used to the fact that her husband had a troubled past. And she might have to get used to the idea that he would never really change. For now, he was utterly dedicated to family, his son Matteo and planning their wedding.

  * * *

  But Eve couldn’t escape the feeling that at some point soon, Nico might crave adventure again. And when he wanted something, there was no way that she could stop him from going after it.

  * * *

  “You’re right,” She muttered.

  * * *

  Daniella’s face softened.

  * * *

  “I didn’t mean to sound so harsh but… I’m not being immature about this. I love Domenico. He’s a good man and I’m sure he’ll be a great one some day. But I do know what kind of man he is… I do know that there are going to be some things I don’t agree with him about. But all these little things are what makes him the man that he is.”

  * * *

  Eve knew that Daniella was right. She pulled the woman close to her and wrapped her in a hug.

  * * *

  “I’m so proud to see what sort of woman you’ve grown into,” Eve added.

  * * *

  Daniella smiled, “Thanks. A lot of it is because of you. I remember in middle school knowing about your business and knowing you were single, and wondering how a woman could really do it all the way you did. In some ways… You inspired me even more than my mother.”

  * * *

  Eve couldn’t help but blush at Daniella’s claim. Their peculiar friendship had stood the test of time, and now they were both going to get married into the same family. Becoming a Riccardi had been a long and slow process, but it was a journey that in some ways they’d both shared, even when they weren’t physically together.

  * * *

  “I suppose a part of it is me just worrying that somehow there will be another incident.”

  * * *

  “Like what happened with the Savellis?” Daniella offered.

  * * *

  Yes, exactly that, she thought. Eve’s paranoia had diminished in recent weeks but it was still thudding just beneath the surface.

  * * *

  “I don’t know what other secrets Nico has.”

  * * *

  Daniella reached out to hold Eve’s hand.

  * * *

  “But you must trust him. Trust that he’ll do what’s best for you. Trust that he will do everything in his power to never let such a thing happen again.”

  * * *

  Eve nodded and squeezed Daniella’s hand. Again, the girl was right. Her faith in Nico had wavered throughout the Savelli incident, and whilst she was gaining back her complete trust of Nico, there were still some worries lurking beneath the surface that threatened to destroy the relationship Eve had built.

  * * *

  Daniella was right. Eve vowed that by the wedding she’d change her approach to her relationship with Nico. No more doubts from now on. From now on, there would only be trust and allegiance to family. She’d free herself from the bondage of her own insecurities, and finally, she’d become a Riccardi.

  1

  The Blood of the Convenant

  Italian Spring possessed an energy unlike any other. Not even New England could compare to the gentle chill, the cool breeze that wafted through the land and the eruptions of green and coiled pink flowers wherever she went. Her wedding day had arrived quickly. Her family had left Boston and flown to Italy to sit alongside Nico’s friends, and the few family members he trusted to keep his location and the news of his wedding safe.

  * * *

  Domenico, his reclusive uncle, and Edoardo made up most of Nico’s wedding party. And of course, Edoardo was joined by Martina, who had invited a few of her friends from the modeling world. Daniella joined Domenico, accompanied by her mother. Domenico was Nico’s best man and Eve’s sister was her maid of honor. Daniella stood as one of her bridesmaids along with Eve’s cousins and a couple second cousins who were particularly close to her family.

  * * *

  The church was hardly filled, but that was how Eve had envisioned things with Nico. They were destined to have a small and intimate wedding, a counterbalance to the feverish vibration of their relationship. Matteo was the ring-bearer and although he’d been practicing for weeks, all who had been involved in the planning secretly feared that Matteo would toss the ring onto the altar as if he were throwing away a piece of trash.

  * * *

  Light classical piano drifted through the wedding in anticipation of its start. Eve had yet to see Nico for the day. She’d been calling him her husband for months in advance, but actually being here on her wedding day still felt surreal. That morning, she’d woken up alone after a night of imbibing near-toxic levels of cranberry vodka cocktails. Thanks to Martina’s hangover cure, she was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for the wedding, with an unusual sparkling glow. The dress she’d chosen with Daniella looked even better than she’d anticipated, and the makeup on her face was light enough to just accentuate her bold, beautiful African features.

  * * *

  Soon, Eve would hear the call to walk down the aisle. Accompanied by her father, Gerald Morgan, Eve would finally be led to her husband’s side. Eve and her father weren’t particularly close, but she knew this moment meant a lot to him. Gerald was from a generation where being close to your kids didn’t matter. What mattered was providing for them and giving them the opportunity to raise up right. And Eve knew that her father was proud of her: for her business, for her son and now for her marriage.

  * * *

  Her mother was in the front row of the audience, dressed to the nines. She had a church hat that threatened to hit everyone surrounding her in the face, and of course her hat was coordinated perfectly with her Chanel suit (a gift from Nico to his future mother-in-law) and the pair of designer heels she only brought out for special occasions.

  * * *

  The wedding march began. Eve felt her father’s comforting hand on her shoulder as he linked arms with her. The bridesmaids and maid of honor titillated around Eve, falling into line as she took her first steps out into the church. All eyes were glued to her, the celebrity for a day, as she walked to meet her husband. The veil draped over Eve’s head, obscuring her vision of the crowd, helping her to feel less nervous about the fact that they were all staring.

  * * *

  Petals from white roses fell before her feet as she walked in unity with the music towards the place where Nico stood. Nico’s black tuxedo draped over him perfectly. Eve could just make out the stunned look in his eyes as he saw her for the first time on her wedding day with the same excitement in his eyes from the day they’d first met. Through her veil, Eve detected a tear, streaming readily d
own Nico’s cheek. Her beauty could bring men to tears.

  * * *

  Nico wasn’t the only one. As Gerald Morgan gave his daughter away, Eve detected tears in his eyes too. Even her stoic, distant father couldn’t help but be moved by the ceremony that had yet to begin. As the ceremony continued, the words of the priest melded together in a mash of glorious praise, prayers and well wishes. Matteo delivered the ring without incident and when Eve finally heard the words, “You may kiss the bride”, it was like she had just woken up from a long dream.

  * * *

  The audience gazed at her and Nico. Her husband raised the veil over her head and looked into her eyes for the first time as her husband… Not just her boyfriend, not just her lover, but the man she had now committed to spend the rest of her life with. In that instance, her doubts felt like distant fuzzy memories. All she could think about was how right this all felt.

  * * *

  All she could do was lean in and allow Nico to grasp her waist and sweep her off her feet as he planted his lips against hers. Whether it was appropriate or not, Eve’s side of the church whooped and cheered. She was the first of her generation to get married and the fact that she had such a gilded wedding in Italy- of all places- made the Morgans a very excitable bunch.

  * * *

  Nico released her from his embrace and they stared into each others eyes like giddy teenagers waiting for the final words of the ceremony, followed by the priest’s dismissal. Eve could feel her heart racing furiously, begging for this part to be over so they could begin the celebration and leave on the honeymoon that they’d been looking forward to since the day Nico had proposed to her.

  * * *

  Attention moved from the happy couple when the doors of the church burst open. Eve froze in place, looking outwards as all the heads in the church turned to look at what she saw. She cast a glance at her husband and saw that all the color had left his face.

  * * *

  A man walked into the church, a man who looked like Nico’s shadow self. They had all the same features except his were more haggard. His mouth was twisted up in cruelty and his eyes had embers of hatred burning just beneath the surface.

  * * *

  “Luca…” Nico whispered.

  * * *

  His twin brother’s name. But this was impossible. Luca was dead. He’d been killed years ago. Luca smiled as he watched the color rush from Nico’s face. He took sadistic pleasure from just the surprise he’d caused Nico. Luca hadn’t come alone.

  * * *

  He strode down the aisle, crushing the rose petals beneath his muddy boots with malice. Everyone in the church stood frozen. Luca was trailed by five men, each heavily armed. Edoardo cast a glance at Martina as they saw them. He hadn’t predicted this. He had eyes on the church for weeks, and he’d kept his finger on the pulse of all the whispers in Italy. If this sneak attack were coming, he should have been able to predict it easily.

  * * *

  “This is impossible,” He whispered into Martina’s ear.

  * * *

  She squeezed his arm tightly without saying a word. Eve’s parents and family looked to her for answers. Why were there men in a church — and this church of all places — armed with automatic weapons that looked better fit for combat than for a wedding. The guns followed Luca to the altar. He gave his brother a wink before he grabbed the microphone from the priest.

  * * *

  In troubled English, he began to speak, “Good morning… guests… I am here to inform you of a tragic mistake on the part of my brother… He planned to get married but he did not invite me to the wedding… What a mistake… A mistake that he shall pay for… Do not move, do not run or I will have my men slaughter each and every one of you.”

  * * *

  He pulled his lips away from the microphone and muttered something in Italian to the men who had accompanied him.

  * * *

  “Luca, stop this,” Nico said weakly.

  * * *

  Luca looked at him with a smile, “What can you do to stop me, brother?”

  * * *

  “Please. I beg you.”

  * * *

  Luca said one more word to the gunmen in Italian and they left the altar as Nico’s twin brother watched from the podium. The gunmen sifted through the audience at random. They pulled out two of Nico’s friends, shoving their guns into their bellies as they took them to the center of the aisle. Three of the gunmen continued to search. One of the gunmen pulled Nico’s reclusive uncle into the aisle. A friend of Domenico’s was next and then finally, one of Martina’s friends, a Sudanese model that Eve recognized from ad campaigns across the United States.

  * * *

  Luca looked at the people who had been selected at random and then he screamed a command. One word. The men raised their guns and fired, emptying their cartridges in the victims that had been selected at random from the audience. With the first gunshot went the first screams. Everyone in the church wailed in unison until the shooting stopped. The screams morphed into anguished cries that took advantage of the acoustics and reverberated misery throughout the church that had once been filled with joy.

  * * *

  Eve tried to stay standing, but she couldn’t. There was blood… blood everywhere…

  * * *

  “Matteo!” She screamed, and then she crumpled to the ground like a white dove with broken wings.

  * * *

  Luca stepped past the bride without giving her a second thought. His men stepped away from the bodies, careful to keep their boots away from the thick pools of ruby-colored blood that were forming around the dead.

  * * *

  “I will return for you brother. Consider this a wedding present,” Luca said.

  * * *

  He walked out of the church, followed by his gunmen, and visibly aroused by the shrieks and screams of hysteria that now filled the church. Nico felt sick to his stomach. Innocent people were now lying dead in the aisle of the church. His wife was unconscious. His son’s wails were starting to grow louder than the cries of the churchgoers.

  * * *

  Eve’s family members rushed to her, Edoardo rushed towards Nico who rushed first towards his son. Many of the wedding goers fled outside of the church, screaming for help while the lucky few whose minds still possessed some clarity called for ambulances and assistance. The injured — presumed dead — lay in the center of the church, some still twitching while all gushed blood. Those who were not already dead soon would be.

  * * *

  Nico scooped his son up from his seat and held him close. Edoardo tapped him on the shoulder.

  * * *

  “Nico…”

  * * *

  “Not now. We’ll talk soon. We need to get everyone to the hospital. I’ll check on Eve.”

  * * *

  Edoardo nodded and returned to Martina who was holding her friend’s body and screaming, screaming, screaming into the church. Nico held his son, who had not yet stopped crying and he approached Eve. She was still out cold. He kneeled beside her and felt for her pulse. She was still breathing, and she hadn’t hit her head on the way down. Nico tried to shake her awake, but couldn’t. Her parents approached on either side of him and said something that Nico couldn’t make out.

  He couldn’t listen to anything, hear anyone. All he could think about was Luca, and how easy it was for Luca to waltz into his life and destroy everything all over again. Luca had done this on purpose, he’d done this to show Nico that he could. He’d done this to show Nico that he controlled him and that no matter how hard Nico tried to break free, he’d never truly be able to.

  * * *

  The sound of sirens started to get closer. Nico’s mouth felt dry. He handed Matteo off to his grandmother and cradled Eve’s unconscious body in his arms. Poor Eve. Poor beautiful Eve. Once more, he’d ruined everything for her just because of who he was. Nico knew that he had to be strong for her, but he couldn’t help but weep. The day that wa
s supposed to be special for them had been swept out from underneath them and turned into an awful bloodbath.

  * * *

  “Eve… Eve… I’m sorry…” Nico whispered to her as he held her head close to his chest.

  * * *

  The first responders rushed into the church. Nico still held Eve who showed no signs that she was planning to awaken into a nightmare. Edoardo had the wherewithal to interact with the responders, explaining to them what had happened. The ambulances were all accompanied by police.