by Bree Porter
I smiled through my tenseness. “No, not yet. It has not even been a month yet, so hopefully soon.” To move his attention, I gestured to his companion. “I’m Sophia and you are?”
“This is Saison. Saison, my nephew and his wife.”
She smiled tentatively. “It is lovely to meet you.”
“You too.” I gave her a bright smile. “I love your dress. Is it Chanel?”
Saison nodded. “From the Spring line.”
“It’s gorgeous.”
We chatted about our dresses while Alessandro and Enrico discussed something else. Quickly, Enrico excused himself and Saison. “We’re not here to interrupt your Valentine’s Day.” He said as they left.
Alessandro and I sat back down.
Even Enrico and his mistress seemed to get along better than Alessandro and I, I mused.
“Saison’s lovely.” I said in the silence.
“She has ties to the Corsican Union.” Was his reply.
I didn’t know how that anything to do with me so I kept my mouth shut and filled it with my dinner. The sound of forks scraping plates filled the silence but did nothing to set me at ease. Still not pregnant, Enrico had said.
The entire purpose of my existence was to get pregnant and have little Rocchetti’s.
I tried to work out my last period in my mind but couldn’t get my mind to handle the numbers. Eventually, I gave up and reasoned with myself. Alessandro and I had only had sex once—there was very little chance of conception.
I flickered my eyes up to Alessandro. Why hadn’t he slept with with again? He might not be attracted to me, but I doubted that would stop him from fulfilling his duty to his bloodline. Duty was inescapable.
Alessandro must’ve felt the weight of my gaze because he snapped his eyes up.
I looked back down at my dinner.
Don’t be stupid, I told myself. You should be on your knees thanking God he hasn’t turned his attention to you again. I knew about the rumours regarding his past conquests.
“Not hungry, Sophia?”
I realised I hadn’t been eating. I must’ve got lost in thought.
“What were you thinking so hard about?”
I looked up and met his eyes. I swallowed. “Nothing.”
“You won’t tell your husband what you’re thinking?” Alessandro placed down his fork. He had found something much better to devour. “What sort of marriage is that?”
“What were you thinking about?” I said the words before I could stop them. My foot in mouth disease seemed to get worse around my dangerous husband.
Alessandro smiled slowly. “I’m thinking about pushing you up onto this table, spreading your legs, and burying my tongue into your pussy.”
My fork and mouth dropped. The image came to me so fast. Me, legs spread; his dark head between them; my head tipped back; the pleasure as he…
“We’re eating dinner.” Was all I could think to say. Everything was too hot, too fast—
“I’d much rather have you than this risotto.” He looked down at it disdainfully. “I prefer yours anyway. Why is that?”
“I make my own stock.” I stuttered out.
Alessandro looked back at me. His anger at the risotto was replaced with a strange look. “You make your own stock.”
My heart was pounding so fast. “Dita taught me.”
“Ah. Dita.” He mused, his eyes glinting. The lightness of his sudden humour surprised me. Or perhaps I had misinterpreted his tone and expression. Maybe it was just a trick of the light.
I tried to match his sudden easiness with some of my own. “She taught me everything I know about cooking.”
“She did a good job.”
I felt a real smile grow. “Thank you.”
A soft buzz came from Alessandro’s pocket before anything else could be said. He fished out his phone and frowned at the screen.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, not really expecting an answer. Mafia business was not women business, Papa use to always tell me.
“Your father has been robbed.”
I started. “Is he okay?”
“Yes.” Alessandro put his phone back into his pocket. He signalled for the check.
“What was stolen?” I asked.
“He is not sure yet. I’ll take you there now and you can identify what was stolen.”
I frowned. “The most expensive things in the house were in his bedroom. Other than the art. I don’t know how much help—“
“It was you and your sister’s room.”
Cat’s room? My room? They were childhood bedrooms, there was nothing of value in there. And anything that might’ve been valuable I had taken with me to Alessandro’s. “Well, they must’ve left empty-handed. There is nothing in our rooms.”
Alessandro stood up as the waitress ran over. “Let’s go, Sophia. Now.”
No longer did he have that softer humour from a moment ago. Now, my husband was angry. I did as I was told and hurried after him.
Who in their right mind had robbed two childhood bedrooms?
Chapter Nine
Cat’s bedroom was torn apart.
Her bed was upside down, her books scattered and all her picture frames had been opened. Even the curtains had been taken off the rods. However the weirdest thing was the destruction of her childhood stuffed animals. They had been cut open, leaving stuffing all around the room.
I held myself up on the door.
The last remaining proof that my sister had been in this world, had used this space, was gone. Torn up and destroyed.
My bedroom had survived a little better. The stuffed animals and picture frames had all be taken apart, but the room itself had already been half-empty.
Down the hall, I could hear Alessandro, Don Piero and Papa. Don Piero had already been here when we arrived, since he only lived a few streets away. But it was weird for him to involve himself in something as trivial as a robbery. Maybe he saw it as more than a senseless break and enter.
I looked around the room.
Was it more than a senseless B&E? The destruction wasn’t made for the fun of it—they had been looking for something. I ran my eyes over the destroyed toys and picture frames, the torn apart furniture.
It didn’t look like they had found it.
“Sophia?” Came Alessandro’s hard voice.
I turned to see all the men coming towards me. Papa was wearing a suit. Had he been out when the robbery had happened? Who had he been with? I don’t think I could handle another stepmother at this time, but it would be nice for Papa not to be alone in this big house.
“Are you okay, bambolina?” Papa asked.
I nodded. “Yes. But I don’t understand…Why didn’t they take the art or jewellery?”
“We believe they were looking for something.” Papa told me. Alessandro and Don Piero cut him a look.
So, my suspicions were correct. “What could they be looking for in Cat’s and I’s room? A quiz on which Jonas Brother you’re most suited to marry?” Don Piero smiled slightly. “No, my dear. But do you know of anything of worth in your sisters or your room?”
“Of worth? The jewellery wasn’t touched.”
“Not jewellery.” Alessandro cut in. He was staring at me with hard eyes. “Was there any important documents?”
“Birth certificates, passports?” Don Piero added.
Documents? “Cat’s documents are in the attic. All mine are at the penthouse.” I looked back into my sister’s room. Had she been hiding something in there? Don’t let the Rocchetti’s make you suspicious of your sister, I told myself. Cat didn’t do anything wrong. “There is nothing important in these rooms. They are childhood bedrooms. I don’t…”
“Of course, bambolina.” Papa gave me a rough pat on the arm. “It was probably a failure of a robbery.”
I flickered my eyes to him. “Where were you?” Papa frowned at me. “Don’t be nosey.”
I looked to the Rocchetti’s. Alessandro and Don Piero seemed to be havin
g an intense conversation but broke off quickly. Alessandro gave me a hard look while Don Piero smiled politely at me.
Weirdly enough, I found I preferred Alessandro’s expression.
“Sophia, would you mind getting your sister’s birth certificate?”
I knew when I was being told to leave. I quickly scurried away, relieved to have a little time to myself. As I turned around the corner, I heard them begin up an intense conversation. I knew there was more than I was being told—but what more could there possibly be?
The attic was my least favourite place in the house. Cat and I firmly believed it was haunted. We use to hear moans and creaks from it. As a child, it had meant there was a ghost living up there. Now I knew it was just the old house settling, but still…My palms began to sweat a little when I crawled up the ladder and stuck my head up into the attic.
I coughed as dust hit me. “Christ.” I muttered.
Cat’s box was near the front, thank God. I shuffled it out, huffing dust. It was heavy with books and documents, but I managed to get myself and the box out of the cursed attic. I quickly closed it back up.
I looked down at the box and felt my heart clench. All proof of her existence was in this box, and now Don Piero wanted it.
Why? I couldn’t understand why. Did they think it would lead them to the robber? There was nothing here but government documents. It contained her driver’s license, her baby book, her death certificate. What use did this stuff have?
I got to my knees and peeled open the box. Dust fluttered out but I waved it away and looked down into the box.
My heart stopped.
The box had been shuffled around. The pile of her papers looked smaller and things had been moved. I remember packing this box nearly two years ago—and it hadn’t looked like this.
Maybe it had, I told myself. You were grieving, maybe you don’t remember how you packed it.
I stared at the box for another second.
Then I began pulling things out.
I checked off as a I went along. Birth certificate, outdated passport, drivers license, high school diploma.
At the very bottom of the box, there was a pile of college pamphlets. She had wanted to go so bad. I think at one point she went to the colleges to check them out, but nothing ever came out of it. Papa had said no, and despite all her fierceness, Cat had eventually succumbed to his will.
I picked up the University of Chicago pamphlet. Out of all the colleges in Illinois, UC had been the one she talked about the most. She spoke about the lecture halls and green grounds with such reverence that sometimes I had wanted to go too.
I opened it up and a piece of paper fell out.
Must be another pamphlet, I thought as I picked it up. But it was white and heavier.
I frowned and opened it.
CATHERINE ROSA PADOVINO. THE DEGREE OF BACHELOR OF LAW.
It was a diploma. A diploma from the University of Chicago. There was a gold stamp and signatures.
And it was awarded to my sister.
I could barely breath. What this some practical joke? Had she made it to be funny? Or worse, was it real? Had my sister managed to get a college degree without my knowledge? Had we lived side by side, done everything together, and all the while she was studying law?
Footsteps sounded down the hall.
I folded it up and shoved it into my coat.
A second later, the men rounded around the corner. Alessandro ran his eyes over me, seeing something I didn’t want him to see.
“Are you alright, bambolina?” Papa asked.
I smiled. “Just making sure nothing is missing.” I dug out the last papers from the box. “It looks like everything is here.”
“That’s a relief.” Don Piero said. “How about we keep your sister’s box at a more secure location? I would be happy to put into the family safe.”
Papa cut his eyes to the Don but didn’t let his anger show. He wasn’t too happy about the security of his home being questioned. “Thank you, Piero. It would bring both Sophia and I a lot of relief.”
I glanced at Alessandro. He was looking at me like he was unraveling me piece by piece.
I know you’re lying, his eyes said.
I looked away.
When we finally arrived home at the penthouse, Polpetto ran into my arms in joy. I held him close to me. The night had been so long but I was relieved to cuddle up to my favourite living thing in the world at the moment.
“I hope you didn’t do a pee in the house.” I whispered to him.
He yapped happily at me.
Alessandro stepped past us, eyeing me coldly. He hadn’t said anything on the drive home, but I knew he was just being quiet to set me on edge. Our dinner conversation flashed into my brain suddenly. It was all too much—the phantom feeling of his skin on mine, the heat between my legs.
I looked away from him and hurried upstairs.
I heard his heavy footsteps behind me but he disappeared into his bedroom.
As soon as I closed my bedroom door, I let out a shaky breath. My sister had gone to college. She had kept a secret from me—a really big one. There was still a chance it was fake…but I highly doubted it. The diploma looked too formal to be fraud.
Polpetto squeaked in my arms and I put him down onto the bed. He did three little spins before settling down to sleep.
I shrugged off my coat and pulled out the diploma. What should I do with it? Throwing it into the bin was not an option. But it felt like a betrayal to keep it in the house. What if Alessandro found it? Would he care? It was just my sister’s college diploma, not a boyfriend.
I scanned my bedroom. It was never truly clean but I didn’t want to risk losing it. Perhaps, I looked at my file of documents, plain sight was best.
I folded up the diploma and shoved it into my passport. This would have to do for now. I was too shaken up to find a better hiding place.
To try and calm myself, I ran myself a hot shower and stood under the water until my fingers became wrinkly. At the beginning of the night, I had felt so beautiful and now I felt used and tired. My nervous system was worn out and my heart hurt.
I hung my head under the spray. The golden hair Cat and I shared fell limply around me.
Cat had been my best-friend. We shared everything. But in all those years I thought our bond untouchable by secrets, she had been completing her degree. Had she been doing it online? Or going onto campus?
Did it matter?
Cat had kept a huge secret. I couldn’t even confront her about it.
I pressed my face against the tiles and let out a wrecked sob.
In that moment, all I wanted to do was fight with my sister. I wanted to pull her hair and steal her stuff. I wanted to demand why she kept this secret, why she died before telling me the truth. I just wanted to hear her voice.
Yet under this, I felt a sliver of pride. I had thought Cat had backed down, hadn’t fought for what she wanted. But she had. She had and she had gotten a Bachelor’s from her favourite university.
I wished I was more like Cat. She would never of been forced into a marriage with a monster, never would’ve bowed to the Rocchetti’s or Papa.
Another sob ravaged through me.
When would this grief be over? When would the clutches of death release me?
Never, a soft voice in my head. You will never be free, bloody bride.
I managed to get myself together enough to get out of the shower and dry myself. My makeup was smudged and running and I tried my best to get it off my skin.
My breakdown did quite a number on me. My eyes were big and swollen, my cheeks stained with mascara and even my belly was cramping. I must’ve pulled it while crying, I mused as I cleaned myself up and got changed into my pyjamas.
I looked at the bed and sighed longingly. Before I went to sleep, I’d better check if Polpetto did a poo in the house.
I wrapped myself up in my dressing gown, slid on my slippers and made my way downstairs. The house was dark w
ith only the kitchen light on. Alessandro never turned off all the lights before bed. And I didn’t like a dark house, so I never did either.
Polpetto had left a little surprise for me on his puppy mat. I quickly scooped it up and chucked it into the big bin. At least he got the puppy mat this time.
I was washing my hands when the door to Alessandro’s study opened. I turned to see Alessandro walking out, followed by Beppe, Oscuro and a man known as Sergio Ossani, enforcer of the Outfit. Both Beppe and Oscuro looked away as soon as they saw I was in my pyjamas, whereas Sergio gave me an intrigued look.
I looked to Alessandro but he was giving me a hard look. I could only imagine why, I was in my pyjamas, with no makeup and looking a little worse for wear. Papa would get mad at me if I was not presentable in front of guests.
“That’s all for tonight.” Alessandro said to the men.
They nodded their heads in respect and said their goodbyes. Oscuro didn’t say goodbye to me, however, just quick left.
As soon as the elevator closed, Alessandro was on me.
“I didn’t know they would be here.” I quickly spluttered. “I would’ve worn makeup—“ Alessandro stopped right in front of me, invading my personal space. Heat radiated off him and his strong smell circled me. He was still wearing the suit that he wore to dinner, but had loosened the tie and lost the jacket.
He caged me in, causing me to press up against the counter.
“It won’t happen again…” I tried but his look silenced me.
Alessandro was frowning at me like I was a difficult math equation. He brought a hand up and I tensed. But instead of hitting me, he wrapped a finger around a piece of my damp hair. He tugged lightly on the strand.
My heart was pounding in my chest.
“I’m not going to hit you, wife.” He said with a low voice.
I didn’t believe him.
“Tell me,” he pressed his lips to my cheek. I shuddered at the touch of them. “Why were you lying to your father?”
Do not react, do not react. “About what?”
His teeth scraped my nose. “Something upset you at your father’s house. What was it?”
“Nothing.” I whispered.
Alessandro drew back. His grip on my hair tightened but it was not painful. “Are you lying to me, Sophia?”