by Bree Porter
“Please do, my dear.” The seriousness washed from his face and he gave me a smile once more. “His staff?”
“All wonderful.” I had already said that. “Just like your own.” I gestured to the door where Anna and the other maid had disappeared through.
He nodded.
Eventually I had to take my leave. Don Piero insisted that Alessandro and I join him for dinner when we were free. I agreed and once again thanked him for my gift.
As he walked me to the car, which Oscuro had already started, he put a hard hand on my back and leaned close to my ear.
I tensed.
“If you need anything at all, my dear, I am just a phone call away. Do not hesitate to ring.” Something about his words unnerved me, so I smiled brightly in thanks and hurried into the car.
Oscuro caught sight of the pup and thinned his lips. Disapproval radiated from him.
“Is everything okay, Oscuro?” I asked him.
He nodded sharply. “Everything is fine, ma’am.” I didn’t believe him for a second.
Don Piero waved as we drove out of his driveway and disappeared down the street. There was something picturesque about the Don of the Outfit standing out in the pure white snow, huge guard dog by his side, and waving us away like a sweet old grandpa.
Until you saw the gun in the back of his pants.
As soon as we were out of the neighbourhood and heading back towards the city, I leant back in the seat and breathed a sigh of relief.
Oscuro gave me a knowing look but didn’t say anything.
Chapter Six
“Here you go, my love.” I put down the bowl of sliced beef in front of my new puppy, which I had named Polpetto. Polpetto sniffed the food before happily digging in. His little tail wagged happily. “You like beef, yes? I shall remember that.”
I rose to my feet and headed back to the kitchen. The mushroom risotto was done, but Alessandro had yet to come home. I knew better to eat before the man of the house arrived.
Not a second later, the elevator doors dinged and Alessandro strode in. Immediately, his eyes snapped to Polpetto and he scowled.
“You saw my grandfather today.”
Alessandro looked the same as he had this morning when he had left. Like he had stepped off the pages of a GQ magazine.
“Well?” Alessandro snapped.
Oh, he had asked a question. “I did. He gifted Polpetto to me. Isn’t that lovely?”
Alessandro did not seem to share my sentiments. Instead, he turned his attention from Polpetto and strode over to me. A darkness had overtaken his face.
I stepped back but found myself trapped between the counter and my husband.
He stopped just in front of me. His dark spice smell overwhelmed and my brain suddenly was devoid of all coherent thoughts. Warmth radiated from him, mixed with power and strength. This must be how the gazelle feels, I thought, when the lion is poised above them.
Alessandro grabbed my chin roughly and drew my face up.
My heart began to thunder.
“What did you talk about?” He asked. His tone had taken on a dangerous lull to it.
“Nothing much.” I murmured.
“That wasn’t what I asked.” He leaned closer. His warmth breathed tickled my cheeks. He was so close—he could kiss me. “What did you tell him?”
I stared into his eyes. “All day people have been trying to learn more about you through me.”
Anger flashed across his face. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you to keep your mouth shut. Again.”
“You don’t.” I answered.
Alessandro surveyed me for another second, before he released his grip and stepped away. I grabbed the counter behind me to stop myself from sliding to the floor. There was no pain where he had grabbed me, only the dull pressure of his touch.
“Get rid of the dog.”
I looked back up at him. His expression was hard. “No.”
Alessandro snapped his eyes to mine. “No?”
I hurried to explain. “The Don will be furious if I reject his gift. It’s much safer if I keep Polpetto.”
“Why do you think he gave you a gift?” He asked.
I frowned in confusion. “He said it was reparations for the ruined wedding. He said he felt bad I hadn’t gotten my fairytale wedding.”
“I didn’t ask what he said the reason was. I asked you to tell me why you think he gave you a gift.” Alessandro snapped.
“Me?” I repeated. “You want to know what I think?”
“Yes, I do.”
I eyed him. Did he really want me to state what I thought? Or did he want me to agree with his grandfather, his don?
Alessandro stared at me.
The words fell out of me before I could stop them. “Two reasons.” I croaked. “One, he wants to soften me up. Make me feel indebted to him but also make a friend out of me. Two, dogs obviously have some sort of meaning. You don’t have a dog, and neither do your family members. By giving me one, he’s saying something…but I don’t know what it is.”
As soon as the words were out, I regretted them. You will get no where from second-guessing the don, I told myself furiously. Especially to his grandson and Capo.
I looked up at Alessandro. Would he punish me?
But instead he was giving me a curious look. “My grandfather loves dogs. Always has. He breeds them and makes a lot of money from them.” His dark eyes flickered over to Polpetto, who had finished his dinner and was laying, belly up, and resting. “When Mayor Salisbury got elected, he sent him a greyhound. And when the Cubs won the World Series, he sent the coach a mastiff.”
Realisation hit me. “He’s claiming ownership.”
Alessandro nodded. “Exactly. That dog represents to all of us that he considers you his.”
I glanced over at Polpetto. The little dog was so cute, it was hard to believe he symbolised such a dark message.
“Why? I’m nothing but a wife. His grandson’s wife.”
“Indeed.” There was something else in Alessandro’s tone. But he offered no further explanation. “Keep it, if you want. Just don’t forget why.”
I nodded. Words seemed to escape me.
Why was Don Piero claiming ownership? Was in my favour or not? Who was he signalling to? What did this mean for me? Questions thrummed around me, but I kept quiet. Asking Alessandro would not help me in the long run—Capo’s wives did not ask questions about what their Don was doing.
To distract myself, I served up dinner while Alessandro hung up his coat and scarf. My stomach grumbled at the sight of the risotto.
We ate in silence. Not from lack of me trying. More than once I tried to start a conversation, anything to break up the sounds of forks scraping the plate, but Alessandro wasn’t interested. He either grunted, said nothing or was on his phone.
As I was packing away the dishes, my phone buzzed.
I peered at it. “Oh, it’s Elena.” I quickly swiped open my phone and read her message. She wanted to know more about Polpetto, reacting to the images I sent on the group chat.
“Elena?” Alessandro lifted his head up from his own phone.
“My friend, Elena. Elena Agostino.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You know to keep your mouth shut to your little friends? Surely, I don’t have to tell you that.”
I ran my tongue over my teeth. Deep breaths, Soph, deep breaths. “No.” I smiled sharply. “Of course not.” I gestured to the dishes. “Finish off the dishes, yes? Surely, I don’t have to tell you that.”
I strode off before I could apologise for being rude.
Not even ten seconds later, I was regretting my temper. I shouldn’t of poked the bear. Now, he would punish me. I could only imagine how Alessandro took care of those he deemed disrespectful. Would he cut off my fingers? Or dangle me off the roof by my ankles?
I leant against the window, forehead to the glass.
Did the people down there have the same worries as me? I wasn’t the only one with trouble
s and it was stupid to think otherwise. But for a moment, I imagined what it was like not being part of this world. My father wouldn’t of married me off, my husband wouldn’t be a murderer. Drugs and extortion and crime wouldn’t be the 9 to 5.
Perhaps I could’ve gone to college. Though, probably not. I had never been good at school, preferring to spend my days talking to friends and having fun. Maybe I could’ve gone for cheerleading or something.
I sighed, trying not to laugh.
I was so inducted into this life I couldn’t even imagine my alternative life.
Would I even be able to function in that world? The mafia had its faults but we looked after each other. When we lost electricity, within minutes, people were over to help. Children were cared for by everyone. I’d never been late to school or gone without something. People were loyal.
And there was power. I didn’t fear speeding tickets or trouble from people. I walked past them, untouchable and with the knowledge that my father would destroy anyone who touched me. I didn’t have to bow to the corrupted government and nothing could touch me.
I traced the outline of the city with my finger. Perhaps it was romanticised in my mind, and as a woman, my version of this world was different to a man’s. But when I looked down at the people below me, I felt no envy.
Cat had been jealous, I remembered. She had wanted out so bad that sometimes I actually thought she would risk the punishment for the reward.
Perhaps some people were made for this world better or worse than others.
Suddenly, my bedroom door whipped open. Alessandro strode in, barely glancing at the space around me. His entire focus was on me.
Sweat pricked up on the back of my neck. He’s here to punish me, I thought. The Godless is here and about to make me beg.
“I’m sorry.” I said before he could say anything. “I should not of spoken to you in such a way. It won’t happen again.”
Alessandro stopped a metre from me and accessed me.
He said nothing.
I opened my mouth. “Please—“
“Don’t beg.” He snapped. Alessandro sounded slightly disappointed. What could he possibly be disappointed about? That I hadn’t thrown myself off the building already?
The sound of soft pattering on the ground filled the silence between us. Not a moment later, Polpetto stuck his head in the room, spotted me and came trotting over. I smiled on instinct at him. How could I not? He was the cutest thing I had ever seen.
I crouched down to scoop him up and he happily jumped into my arms.
“I still think you should get rid of the thing.” Alessandro said.
I held Polpetto close to my chest. “His name is Polpetto. And his owner’s choices should not reflect onto him.”
“Mmm.” Alessandro’s eyes roamed around the room.
I realised, horrified, that I hadn’t tidied it today. Coffee cups and clothes were covering the surfaces, and I had tipped over the box I brought from my Papa’s place, causing it to spill everywhere. I hadn’t even bothered to make the bed.
“This room is a pigsty.” He sounded slightly amazed by this fact.
I blushed. “I meant to clean it, I really did. But I got distracted…”
“You’ve been here for two days. How is it this messy?”
“You should see my childhood bedroom. And I was there for twenty-two years.”
Alessandro glanced at me. “I imagine it’s nothing short of disgusting.”
“You would be correct.” I laughed. As soon as it was out, I paused. Was I standing here, discussing casual topics with The Godless? Was he lulling me into a sense of safety? When did he decide to punish me?
His dark eyes roamed over me. “You’re afraid of me again. I can tell.” He didn’t sound sad or happy about this fact.
“Should I not be?” I whispered.
“Common sense says you should be.” Alessandro replied. I rocked Polpetto in my arms. “What I lack in common sense I make up with manners.”
I could’ve sworn Alessandro almost smiled. Or perhaps I was truly going crazy. It would explain why I kept talking back to my husband.
Alessandro surveyed the bed once more. A predatory look had taken over his face.
My stomach tightened.
“Are we going to…” I trailed off, unable to say the words.
He turned to me, slow and deliberate.
“Are we going to fuck?” He said. “Is that what you wanted to ask?”
I shook my head.
Alessandro became very animated. He strode over to me. I stepped back, but hit the window behind me. Cool glass pressed to my skin, at odds with the huge warm man looking down at me. Alessandro pressed a hand on either side of my face and leant down to meet my eyes.
I couldn’t hardly breath—
“As your husband, I am entitled to have you. I could take you right now and it would be my right.”
I swallowed against my dry throat. “Are you going to?”
A smirk grew up his face. There was nothing amusing about it. “No. Not yet. Not when you’re not physically fit for it.” He reached out one of his thumbs and brushed it over my hair. “I wouldn’t want to damage my new bride. Not so soon, anyway.”
He wasn’t going to sleep with me again until I was healed? Healed of my gunshot wound or from our previous session?
Alessandro leaned closer and for a horrifying moment I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead he pressed his nose to my cheek, breathing me in. “You are so afraid. Even when I am not even in the room, I can hear you placing things down gently and speaking softly so as if not to awake the beast.”
“This is your home.” I squeaked. His presence was too much. Too hot, too big—“I don’t want to be rude.”
“No,” he laughed softly. “You never want to be rude, do you? Your manners are exemplary, your behaviour faultless and your appearance perfect. You are beyond reproach, aren’t you? Like a trained monkey.”
I bit my tongue. It took hard work being a woman in this world, and even I stumbled a few times a day.
“You have nothing to say? Of course, you don’t.” Alessandro drew back and met my eyes. “And here I was, thinking you were hiding something ugly beneath that golden exterior.”
I stared back at him. “I am your wife. I live to make your home and your children.”
He grinned. The sight was wild and terrifying. “If you say so.”
Alessandro stepped away from me, freeing me from the prison of his arms. I sucked a breath through my teeth, feeling very lightheaded. In my arms, Polpetto also seemed to relax.
“Sleep well.” He said, sounding as if he didn’t really gave a shit how I slept. I watched as he strode towards the door. “You have another tiring day of being Mrs. Rocchetti tomorrow.”
The days trickled away like water.
Each day, I set about my life in paralysing fear, watching Alessandro for any sign that he might hurt me. From the moment I awoke, alone, I avoided him all day—which wasn’t hard when he worked out the house—until dinner. At dinner, we would exchange polite but tense small talk about dinner and the weather.
Every night, I laid in my bed and stared at the door until exhaustion pulled me in the darkness.
Only gorgeous Polpetto, who had peed in the house thrice and pooped twice as many times, brought me any sort of relaxation. Even if he was a symbol of something greater, he couldn’t talk. Therefore, Polpetto was free of being a spy.
At the beginning of February, there was a few rare warmer days and I chose that time to take Polpetto out for a little walk. He looked so cute in his little booties that I almost cried.
Oscuro took one look at him and shook his head.
“You don’t think Polpetto looks dashing?” I laughed. “I’m thinking of getting him a little beanie, too.”
“Whatever you think is best, ma’am.” But Oscuro’s tone made it clear what he really thought.
I laughed again.
All of Chicago seemed to of have t
he same idea of me and ventured out into the day. A layer of snow still covered everything, but it felt nice to feel the sun on my face—even if it did little to combat my frosty nose.
Oscuro walked by my side, forbidding and watchful.
I tried to engage in a conversation but like usual, Oscuro didn’t really want to. I didn’t want to talk his ear off so I bit my tongue to keep from talking.
When we made it to the other side of the park, I spotted the public toilets. “Oscuro, can you watch Polpetto for a moment? I really have to go to the bathroom.”
Oscuro thinned his lips but nodded. He leaned against the toilet, looking a bit like a creep. I sighed but did not tell him to move. It’s not like he would.
It was freezing inside the toilets, but empty. I quickly did my business and then hurried over to the sink. A thin layer of grime covered the entire interior.
Don’t be so stuck up, I told myself.
A door opened—one I had assumed was closet—and a man walked in.
“Oh, sir, I think you’re in the wrong place.” I laughed.
The man stepped closer to me and flashed a badge. “Special Agent Tristan Dupont, FBI.”
My stomach tightened. “I am not sure what I can do for you, agent.”
“You are Sophia Padovino, yes?”
I took in Dupont’s appearance. He looked like a fed, with his blue button down and slacks. His shoes were worn and his blonde hair was neatly combed back. He didn’t actually look very old, perhaps a few years older than I—but definitely younger than Alessandro. But despite being a cop, he wasn’t bad-looking.
Actually, he was quite handsome. He reminded me of a Baltic Viking, almost.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I have to leave—“
“I am working with a specialised task force to help bring down the crime families of Chicago. We know you were forced into your marriage with Alessandro Rocchetti and we know he is not a good man. If you work with us, we can offer you protection and a new life, free of all this. Isn’t that what you want? To be free?”
I stared at him. “Agent Dupont, I do not know why you assume I can help you. I know nothing of the crime families of Chicago.”
“Don’t play dumb.” Dupont said, looking irritated with me. “I meant what I said, we can protect you. We have kept people hidden and safe before and we can keep you hidden and safe. All you need to do is work with me.”