The Bloody Bride (The Rocchetti Dynasty)

by Bree Porter

  I felt too embarrassed to respond. I had been prancing around, feeling power from the name Rocchetti and it had all been a game. I had let Alessandro’s words from all those nights ago actually alter my view and now I was left looking and feeling like an idiot. I had been played by the Rocchetti’s and for some stupid reason I was actually hurt by it.

  The Rocchetti’s don’t need to worry about an Anti-Mafia certificate. They have this entire city in their pocket, I thought.

  “Sophia?” Alessandro said on the phone.

  “I’m sorry I have to go. I have an appointment.”

  He snorted.

  I hung up before he could say anything else.

  Oscuro followed me quietly back to the car, radiating tension. I could smell his disapproval in the air it was so potent. When we buckled in, I asked him, “What’s the matter, Oscuro?” His jaw tightened. “You shouldn’t anger Alessandro, ma’am. He isn’t known for his patience.”

  The warning from Oscuro was a slight surprise. I didn’t think Oscuro was capable of speaking out of turn, and yet here we were. I wanted to heed Oscuro’s warning, I really did, but I couldn’t seem to help angering Alessandro. Every move I made seemed to grate on his nerves.

  “You don’t like him?” I asked, curious.

  Oscuro kept his eyes on the road but was deadly serious as he said, “I would lay down my life for Alessandro. There is no other man I would rather have at my back when I go to war, and there is no other Capo I would listen to. But…I would not let him anywhere near the women in my family.”

  I looked out the window ruefully. If only my father had had the same policy as Oscuro. “Do you think I should’ve been given to Salvatore Jnr then? Or even Toto the Terrible?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe Tommaso’s boy then?”

  “Stupid boy.” Oscuro commented. “But he would’ve been good to you. Easier…easier to be a wife to.”

  I smiled, albeit a bit sadly. Oscuro doesn’t think you’ve got it in you to survive the Rocchetti’s. Neither does your father, said a voice in my head. And they’re probably right.

  “Well, it’s too late now.” I murmured.

  “Far too late.” He agreed.

  My phone cut through the silence. If it was Alessandro, I would not be happy. Instead my father’s name was displayed on the screen. We hadn’t spoken since our dinner the night before Cat’s death anniversary. I wasn’t sure who should make the first move, so I gave the power to him. Papa did better when he felt he was in control, anyway.

  “Papa,” I answered.

  “Bambolina.” Papa said. He sounded a bit sheepish. “How are you, my dear?”

  “I’m fine. And you?”

  He paused. “Fine.”

  A moment of silence passed.

  “About the other night…”

  “It’s okay, Papa. You were a bit tipsy. And it was the day before…Cat’s anniversary.”

  “That does not make it okay.” He said tightly.

  I quietened my voice. “Papa, what you warned me about…was that a drunk man’s rambling or should I not say anything?”

  “Do not say anything.”

  “Why—“

  “That is not your business. But I am your father and when it comes to your protection, I am in charge.”

  My stomach tightened. “You think I need protecting?”

  “Everyone needs protection, bambolina. Especially you.” Papa was saying something else but my attention darted.

  Out the window, I caught sight of a McDonalds. “Oscuro, let’s get something to eat. I am seriously craving some salty chips—oh, and a burger. One with heaps of cheese—“

  “Sophia, are you listening to me?” Barked Papa on the phone.

  “Yeah, yeah.” I answered. Oscuro turned off the road and towards the restaurant. “I wish you would tell me why. It’s harder than you think hiding a pregnancy.”

  “Are you alone?” Papa squeaked.

  “Oscuro’s with me.” I held up the phone to him. “Say hi, Oscuro.”

  Oscuro ignored me.

  “He is Alessandro’s loyal dog.” My father snapped. “You should not tell him anything—“

  “Oscuro already knows, Papa. He has to go to my appointments with me.” I answered. “And I’m not entirely convinced as of why I should keep the baby a secret. This is my ticket to safety, Papa. My entire purpose is to get pregnant and you’re telling me to be quiet?”

  Papa sighed. “This is not your ticket to safety, bambolina.”

  “Then tell me what is going on—“

  “No. You know it is not your place.” He added, “What has gotten into you? You never use to speak so rudely to me.”

  I sighed. Oscuro pulled up to the window. “I’m sorry, Papa. I’m just stressed. And tired. I know you have my best intentions in your heart.” To Oscuro I said, “Get me the biggest thing on the menu. With bacon in it.”

  “What drink do you want?”

  “Nothing. Just get me extra chips.” I turned back to my phone.

  Papa was in the middle of his sentence. “—best you don’t know, bambolina. It will only bring you grief. Just listen to me and trust me to protect you. As I have always done.” Except when you sold me to the Rocchetti’s without a second thought.

  I put a gentle hand on my abdomen. Would Alessandro sell you, baby? “I know, Papa. I understand. I won’t say anything to anyone…”

  “Good.”

  Oscuro passed me my meal. The smell made my stomach gurgle furiously.

  “What was that sound?” Papa asked.

  “Nothing.” I tore open the bag. “I have to go now, Papa.”

  “Promise me you won’t say anything, Sophia.”

  I unwrapped my burger. “I promise.”

  “Oh, and, bambolina?”

  “Mmm?” I bit into my burger.

  “I am sorry about bruising you. I didn’t realise my own strength or intoxication.”

  Who bruised you? Alessandro’s voice repeated in my mind. I paused with my mouth full.

  “I’ll talk to you later, bambolina.” Papa hung up.

  I had a terrible feeling that perhaps my little bargain with Alessandro last night had been a fool’s game.

  Chapter Sixteen

  My boobs had gone up a cup.

  I shifted my bra, swearing softly under my breath. I had worn a sweater to try and hide the changing of my body, but I swear you could tell. My stomach hadn’t grown yet, but the rest of my body certainly was getting ready for the new baby.

  I tugged at the cream sweater. I had tucked it loosely into a pale pink knee-length pencil skirt, making me look well-dressed but not too preppy. It was a stock car race, not the Kentucky Derby.

  “What do you think, Polpetto?” I asked. Polpetto lifted his head up at the sound of his name. He was relaxing on my bed, belly up. “Is it obvious?” I twisted to the side and tugged again. “Maybe I should put a sport bra on? No, that would be uncomfortable. My boobs hurt so much.”

  “Sophia!” I heard Alessandro barking my name. A moment later, he appeared at my bedroom doorway. “Are you almost ready?” He demanded. “We’re late.”

  The past week I had been watching myself around Alessandro. I felt embarrassed by falling into the Anti-Mafia certificate game, as well as my heated reaction to our kiss. Whenever I saw him my heart sped up and some mornings I woke up feeling an echo his touch against my skin. I kept reminding myself that he had threatened my father—though neither my husband nor my father had confirmed my suspicions—and that he was a Rocchetti.

  And Rocchetti’s had not been formed to be kind, to be engaging. They had been born from the depths of Hell, sons of Satan himself, and sent to Earth to make me age quicker.

  Pulling myself from my thoughts, I pushed my hair over my shoulders, trying to use it to shield my chest. “Just let me grab my shoes.” I walked to the closet. “Which ones do you think I should wear? White or pink?”

  “White.” Alessandro made a let’s-go
gesture.

  I slid on my heels as I walked. “I have to grab my coat—“

  “It’s downstairs.”

  Alessandro walked in front of me. He was waiting by the elevator, both our coats in hand.

  “You knew we had to leave by 10.” He told me as we left. “It’s 10:30.”

  “It’s 10:21.” I corrected. “And perfection takes time.”

  He just grunted in reply.

  The bodyguards were waiting by the car. To my surprise, Alessandro declared he was going to drive his Lamborghini. Both Beppe and Oscuro looked worried at not being able to protect him, but they didn’t argue his decision. They just got into the Range Rover and waited for Alessandro to leave.

  I settled into the deep car, holding our coats. “Have you ever raced?” “Cars? No.” Alessandro zapped out of the garage, engine roaring.

  I caught sight of the Range Rover in the rearview mirror. “Oscuro and Beppe seemed upset that you didn’t take the Range Rover. I think they prefer it when they can protect you.”

  “They are loyal men.” It was the nicest thing I had ever heard him say. “I would worry less about security if I were you, wife.”

  My tongue caught in my throat. “Why? Do you think I have bigger things to worry about?”

  Alessandro didn’t answer.

  “Don Piero wants you at Church this Sunday.” I said. “He’s not pleased that you’ve missed nearly three weeks now.”

  “My grandfather believes that God will be more likely to let him into Heaven if he goes to Church.”

  “You don’t share the sentiment?’

  “No,” he laughed darkly. “I don’t.”

  I shrugged. “Nevertheless, it is what we do. I think going to Church is more about washing away your sins. It’s about making connections, hearing the latest gossip.”

  “Is that what you do?”

  “Of course.” I tilted my head to the side. “I doubt God has much interest in me.”

  Alessandro kept his eyes on the road. “Then He is a fool.”

  I felt my cheeks warm. “I don’t think you can call the Creator a fool.”

  He didn’t answer.

  I opened my mouth but he cut in. “Are you going to talk the entire time?” Alessandro asked.

  “How long have we been married?”

  To my utter surprise, Alessandro cracked a grin. It was rough and wild…but there was no hunger or wickedness. Only amusement.

  I felt my own lips turn up in response.

  “I suppose you’re right.” He said.

  When I had last seen Circuit di Chicago in February, it had been quiet and empty. But as we pulled up to the raceway, the circuit looked more how I remembered it when I was young. Cars filled the parking lot, some even stretched up along the road. People gathered everywhere, dressed in team paraphernalia, and were prancing happily into the track.

  Alessandro didn’t park anywhere near the public but went straight for the private parking. Already a line of flash expensive cars were waiting.

  “This is exciting.” I said as I heaved myself out of the car.

  “It’s fine.” Alessandro answered.

  The bodyguards parked their Range Rover nearby and joined us as we headed towards the arena. Instead of going through the main entrance, we went around the back. A scary looking muscle man was waiting by a private door, but nodded respectfully to Alessandro as we passed.

  It took a flight of stairs and an elevator but eventually we reached the private box. The circuit had many boxes dedicated to VIP’s but the Rocchetti Box was by far the best. A huge grey lounge overlooked the circuit, while beside it a small dining table stood, with a bar and fridge off to the right. You could see the plastic benches the public were sitting on from here, and compared to our private living room, it looked like it sucked.

  At least a dozen Made Men meandered around the space, wine in hand. Sitting at the end of the table, holding court, was Don Piero. When he saw my husband and I, he rose with a charming smile.

  “Sophia, I am so glad you could make it.” We kissed both cheeks before pulling back. Normally, my husband would’ve been greeted first but Don Piero didn’t have to worry so much about customs. He made the customs. “I have to personally thank you for getting the certificate.”

  I tried not to blush but felt my cheeks warm nonetheless. “I am pleased to help the family in anyway I can.”

  Alessandro gave me a knowing look but I ignored it.

  “Go and mingle, my dear.” Don Piero said. “Alessandro, a word.”

  Alessandro pressed his hand lightly to my back and gestured with his chin to someone over my head. A moment later, a devastatingly handsome man approached me and gave me a bright charming smile. A smile like that could destroy reputations.

  And it had.

  “Gabriel will get you a drink.” Alessandro told me. He took his hand off my back and sat down with his grandfather, a clear dismissal.

  “Little Sophia, the last time I saw you, you were dressed up as a fairy princess and playing with your dolls.” Laughed Gabriel. He hadn’t changed since the last time I had seen him, with the same curly dark hair and bright hazel eyes. Perhaps his face had matured a bit, the bones more prominent, his forehead beginning to wrinkle, but other than that he looked the same.

  “The last time I saw you, you were running from my stepmother’s bedroom with my father on your heels.”

  Gabriel flashed me a grin. “Good times.”

  I laughed.

  Every girl in the Outfit knew Gabriel D’Angelo and it was considered a right of passage to be in love with him for a time. He was charming and beautiful, and a complete troublemaker. He had ruined more marriages than toilet seats and was no where close to being done. I knew from gossip that Gabriel was usually kept away from Chicago to stop him from causing trouble with the Outfit.

  Why would Alessandro let such a devil of a man near me? I wondered. If Gabriel and I had an affair, that would reflect terribly onto the Rocchetti’s and ensure Gabriel’s death.

  Alessandro had spoken to Gabriel with ease and command. Perhaps Gabriel had been tamed—by the Capo of Chicago.

  “What do you want to drink, Sophia?” Gabriel asked as we headed to the bar. Hearing my name from someone was odd. I was so use to being called Mrs Rocchetti by those I didn’t truly know.

  “Just a lemonade, thank you.”

  His eyes widened. “A lemonade? Are you driving?” No, just pregnant. I laughed. “It’s eleven o’clock. Only lunatics drink before lunch time.”

  Gabriel got me a lemonade but insisted it had at least a slice of lime in it. He was great company, despite borderline flirting with me. I cared little for getting in trouble with the Rocchetti’s so I didn’t play into it. But it was nice to talk and laugh with someone who was easy and receptive. Sometimes communicating with Alessandro made me sweat from exertion.

  And other things.

  I was doing fine until they brought out the cheese platters. The strong smell of the dip and olives made me want to retch.

  Just take a deep breath. I sucked in air.

  Nausea was rising up fast and hard. My throat felt gross, which meant only one thing.

  I placed down my lemonade. “I’m just going to run to the powder room.”

  Gabriel gave me a curious look. “It’s just down the hall. To the left.”

  If I had opened my mouth to answer, I truly think I would’ve thrown up. I scurried out of the room, trying to look calm but really feeling like crap. The bodyguards waiting in the hall lifted their heads up at my arrival.

  “You okay, ma’am?” Oscuro called.

  I waved him off with a tight smile.

  As soon as I pushed into the bathroom, I went straight for the nearest toilet and threw up. I hadn’t eaten a lot today so it was mostly lemonade and saltine crackers. It stunk, to say the least.

  I poised myself over the bowl, heaving in air rapidly.

  Not a second later, my body convulsed again and I vomited a se
cond time.

  “Jesus Christ,” I muttered. My entire body felt sticky.

  When I was sure my body was done, I flushed the toilet and left the stall. I hadn’t even closed the door I had been in such a rush. It was damn lucky no one decided to go to the toilet or they would’ve walked in one me at one of the lower points in my life.

  I washed my face with water, then cupped some in my hand and drank it greedily. It soothed my rough throat.

  I checked my hair and sweater for remnants of my breakfast but luckily I had aimed straight for the toilet bowl. I could only smell vomit, however, and wished desperately that I had brought my handbag with me. I almost kept a spare bottle of perfume for emergencies.

  I rested a hand on my stomach. “You don’t like being ignored, do you?” I asked. “Changing my body, making me throw up.” I smiled. “It’s okay. You’re like your mother in that way. I don’t like being ignored either.”

  There was a loud knock on the door. “Mrs Rocchetti?” Oscuro called. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine!” I yelled back and quickly checked my appearance. I washed my hands a second time before leaving.

  Oscuro was waiting by the door, frowning. “Oh, you didn’t have to come and check on me, Oscuro. I was just going to the toilet.”

  He checked the bathroom behind me as I closed the door, eyes searching.

  “There’s no one in there.” I laughed and patted his shoulder. “Go back to your bodyguard friends. I’m fine, truly.”

  “I’ll escort you back to the Capo.” His tone left no room for arguments.

  Oscuro and I went back to the skybox. He caught the eye of Alessandro and nodded stiffly. Alessandro was sitting by his grandfather, but nodded back in response to Oscuro.

  I had just gone to the bathroom. What was that all about?

  Honestly, I was feeling too wiped and ill to even think about it. All I had to do was worry about surviving the day without tossing up my cookies again.

  Gabriel welcomed me back. “The race is starting soon.” He told me. “Look, the pace car is out.”

  The pace car set the speed as the cars got onto the track and prepared to start. Twenty-four of them stretched out into two lanes, preparing to begin. I could hear the engines rumbling and the crowd cheering in anticipation. In the box, you didn’t feel as close to the race. Cat and I use to love sitting as close as possible and feeling the ground shake when the engines began to roar.