Accidental Witness

by Sam Mariano

  Shrugging like he’s never been asked a dumber question in his life, Mateo says, “Handle it.”

  That doesn’t answer my question, exactly, but I nod anyway. “Okay.”

  Flashing me a smile, Mateo holds my gaze. “Welcome to my home, Mia.”

  His words are friendly, but I pick up a weird vibe. Doing my best to ignore it, I muster a smile in return. “Thank you, Mr. Morelli.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cherie escorts me to Francesca’s room. She asks Vince what happened, and since I don’t feel like listening to his grim retelling of events, I go out to retrieve my backpack.

  My mom didn’t answer her phone, but I left a message that I was over at Lena’s and she wanted me to spend the night, so she’d give me a ride to school in the morning.

  Sitting in the floor of Vince’s palatial home, I think about how having dinner with his family was something I desperately wanted a few days earlier. But in my daydreams of that event, Vince was happy I was there. Right now, I don’t think he’s happy I’m here at all.

  Burden.

  The word rises unbidden to my mind, but I push it away. I’m not a burden. Vince likes me. He wanted to be able to date me, he just didn’t want… well, this.

  Everyone is just worked up right now. It’s been a crazy hour, but today will pass, the dust will settle, and everything will be okay.

  Confident, I rise, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. I hesitate outside the door of the study, seeing Cherie comforting Vince with a sympathetic expression and a reassuring shoulder squeeze.

  I need to figure out what her deal is. I decide to ask, once I’m alone with her.

  Eventually, I’m spotted hovering outside, so Cherie flashes Vince one last smile and comes out to see me.

  “I guess I’m supposed to help you find something to wear for dinner.”

  “I guess so,” I say, looking down at my T-shirt and jeans. “Is there something wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  “No, of course not. It’s just, the Morellis don’t wear jeans to dinner.”

  I frown, but she’s already walking, so I follow along.

  “I can show you Vince’s room, too, if you want to drop off your bag. Vince said you’re going to be staying with him.”

  “Tonight, yeah. Which is weird, isn’t it? I mean, we’re teenagers, and they’re just okay with us sleeping in the same bed?”

  “Mateo doesn’t care,” she says, simply. “He’s not Vince’s dad, and… he wouldn’t care anyway.”

  “Seems weird.”

  “It won’t, eventually.”

  It’s so weird how everyone seems to accept without question there was some mandate, locking me into this family, and apparently I missed it?

  By the time we make it to the wing housing Francesca, I decide that I could have a sufficient workout routine if I just walked through this whole house twice a day. At the end of the long hall, there’s another hallway to the left, and a hallway to the right. Directly ahead, an enormous painting hangs on the wall. Apparently Francesca is on the left hall, because that’s where Cherie turns.

  “The room across the hall is empty,” Cherie tells me. “If they don’t keep you with Vince permanently, you may get that one. Then you and Francesca will be neighbors,” she says brightly.

  Neighbors is a good way to put it. This house really is more like an apartment complex, judging by the size of it. “I don’t think I need my own bedroom,” I say, glancing over my shoulder as I follow Cherie. “Do all the family members live here?” I ask.

  “Not all of them. Francesca, Adrian, Mateo, Vince, Alec—Mateo’s dad, too, but he’s sickly…” She’s walking ahead of me, but she slows down until we’re side by side so she can say lowly, “and an old bastard. You probably won’t even meet him. Mateo pretty much has him tucked away, just waiting for him to die.”

  My eyes widen, but she goes on, still quiet. “There are cameras throughout the house, by the way. You won’t always be able to tell where they are. Some are obvious, some aren’t. They do record audio.”

  “Cameras? Like, surveillance?”

  She nods, then speaks at a normal tone. “And here’s Francesca’s room.”

  When she opens the door, I see an opulent room of whites and pinks. Like every other room I’ve seen so far, it’s huge. It doesn’t even look like a bedroom when we first walk in—there’s a sofa in front of a fireplace with bookcases flanking it and a side table, like a living room. A television is mounted on the wall. Beyond that, though, is a wall with an open arch, and that leads into Francesca’s sleeping area. There’s another door at the back of the room. It’s only cracked open, but it looks like a bathroom.

  “And over here,” Francesca says, walking around the bed, opening a door I didn’t notice between the bed and the bathroom, “is the closet.”

  I should expect it at this point, but it’s a walk-in. A huge walk-in, larger than my bedroom at home, with a floor-to-ceiling mirror as soon as you walk in, and a fancy upholstered bench—pale pink, of course—right in the center. Racks and racks of clothing, handbags and shoes fill the room, and I can’t even deal.

  “What is this place? How rich is this family?”

  “Super rich,” she tells me. “Mateo’s actually a really good business man, and he’s been systematically buying up his side of the city. Most of his money now is actually legit, from what I hear.”

  “Why not get out of the crime stuff then?”

  She shrugs. “No idea. Anyway, sit, I’ll pick you a dress.”

  I sit there awestruck, looking around at all of Francesca’s possessions, remembering her telling me she would sell her soul not to be a part of this family. Maybe she has an inaccurate idea of what the rest of the world is like, because from the cushy fucking seat I’m sitting in, being born to this family seems more like a blessing than a curse.

  I mean, crime boss head of the family or not. Look at all these shoes!

  Cherie plucks a dress off the rack and brings it over to me. “High neck. Try this one.”

  I feel a little weird undressing right in front of her, but she doesn’t leave, and she doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest as she waits to zip me up.

  Once it’s fastened, I admire my reflection for a moment while Cherie pops over to the shoes. She picked out a black lace sheath dress, and while the neckline is high, it’s super pretty.

  “What’s your shoe size?” she asks, picking up a pair of suede turquoise heels.

  “Usually 8.”

  “Perfect,” she says, bringing them over. “Do you need pantyhose?”

  “I think I’m okay,” I tell her, stepping into the heels.

  “Do you have makeup with you? You could use some lipstick.”

  I don’t, so our next stop is Francesca’s vanity in the bathroom. Cherie navigates the drawers like a pro, and before long she picks a shade and applies it before I can argue.

  Flashing me a smile as she puts it away, she says, “Perfect. You look very pretty.”

  “Are we going out somewhere to dinner?” I ask.

  “Nope. This is just how Mateo likes things.”

  I frown a little at that, but I don’t say anything.

  Cherie starts to head back to the walk-in closet, but she slows to a stop near the door, and instead, she closes us both inside and turns back to me. “Can I give you some advice?”

  “Of course,” I say, open to anything that might help me.

  “It’s going to be an enormous adjustment, becoming a part of this family. I can see right now you don’t realize that, and there’s no reason you would, but as someone who’s grown up here, let me tell you… Everything you think you know about the world is wrong inside of these walls. This is Mateo’s kingdom. He rules it, and the men in this family rule over the women.”

  I must look horrified, because her expression grows firmer.

  “Balk all you want internally, but you’re better off if you don’t. Play nice with Mateo, and keep Vince happy. Survival
is your new motivator. If you have to dress up for dinner so Mateo can admire his collection of dolls, just do it. If you possess any strong feminist values, let them go. You’ll be much happier if you submit. The world outside, the world you’re used to, is not your world anymore. Vince is your man, Mateo is your boss, and this is your home—but it’s their home, first. The more you fight, the less comfortable you’ll be. You will not always be treated with respect, you will damn sure not be treated like an equal, and on Sundays? The women of this house make dinner. Don’t make any other plans, because it’s mandatory. Vince is a good guy, probably the best in this family, but he was raised here, so he won’t be perfect. Right now, he’s feeling a bit burdened. If I were you, I’d try to make him more comfortable with the fact that he’s sort of stuck with you now. This life will be whatever you make it, and if you go in realistic, you’ll be able to make more out of it. If you fight at every turn, you’ll be miserable. I can’t imagine coming into this life from the outside, and if you ever need someone to talk to, you can talk to me. Preferably at school, or in a bathroom, because that’s the only place there are no cameras. Be very careful, because Mateo’s paranoia is not exaggerated.”

  Opening the bathroom door without giving me a chance to respond, she says, “You look very pretty. Now I’ll show you to Vince’s room, so you can drop off your things.”

  ---

  Vince is in his bedroom when we get there. Like Francesca’s, there’s a sitting area when you first walk in, but there’s no wall between that and the rest of the room. Vince’s bed is enormous—I guess a king, but it looks even bigger. His room is decorated in reds and blacks with pops of silver. Beyond the bed, he has a desk with a laptop and various items scattered across the top. In the far left corner, a black upholstered chair that faces the bed. Where Francesca’s walk-in closet was, Vince has a bathroom.

  Cherie leaves right away to give us some privacy. Vince was lying back on his bed, staring at the ceiling when we came in, but now he’s sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “These bedrooms are like apartments,” I tell him, managing a smile.

  He still looks down in the dumps. With Cherie’s words fresh in my mind, I walk over to the bed, kick off my shoes and climb up behind him. Leaning in, I wrap my arms around his shoulders.

  “Yeah, they’re not small,” he agrees, lightly touching my wrist.

  “I’m sorry it’s been a rough day,” I tell him.

  Laughing lightly, he looks at me over his shoulder. “It’s been far rougher for you.”

  “Yeah, but I think we’re gonna be okay,” I say, wanting to stay positive. “I think the worst is over.”

  “I think that’s inaccurate, but I’ll let you believe it as long as you’re able.”

  I duck my head around his shoulder, kissing him on the cheek. “We get to sleep in the same bed tonight, and you don’t even have to break into my house to accomplish it,” I tease him.

  “Look at you with the silver linings,” he says lightly. Then, reaching behind him, he topples me over his shoulder until I fall into his lap. He cradles me with his arm, winks, and leans in to kiss me. I wrap a hand around his neck to draw nearer, and at the same time, I feel his hand slide up my thigh. Wasting no time with teasing, he slides his fingers inside the fabric of my panties and pushes a finger inside me.

  “Vince,” I say on a gasp. I spread my legs for him, but not as wide as I’d like, because of the dress.

  “At least now,” He leans down, capturing my lips as his fingers tease the bundle of nerves between my legs. “I can do this anytime I want.”

  “You sure can,” I agree, back arching as he sends a spike of pleasure right through me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dinner is, in fact, a whole thing.

  A long, gleaming table seats five on each side, with one chair on each end. Place settings have already been put at each one, with two tall candelabras and a round flower arrangement at the center. This room also has a fireplace and a huge, sparkling chandelier.

  We seem to be the last to get there. Mateo, unsurprisingly, sits at the head of the table. On the opposite end is Adrian, who glances up at me as we enter, but quickly becomes distracted by a young blond woman leaning over to fill his water glass. A man I don’t recognize sits at the first chair on Adrian’s left beside Francesca. There are three empty seats next to her, but the other side of the table is completely empty. Vince heads for the seats on the empty side, closest to Adrian, but Mateo speaks up.

  Indicating the two seats to his left, he says, “These two are your seats.”

  “No one else is coming?” Vince asks.

  “Not tonight.” Then, to me, Mateo explains, “On Sundays there are more people. During the week, it varies.”

  Vince goes to take the seat nearest Mateo, but Mateo shakes his head. Vince’s jaw locks, but he pulls the chair out and gestures for me to sit anyway, then he takes the seat to my left so I’m essentially sandwiched between them. Fun.

  The blonde girl makes it to Mateo’s glass, and I notice when he glances up at her and smiles, she begins to glow, smiling more than I can imagine Mateo’s attention ever making a person smile.

  At the other end of the table, Adrian slams his seat back and stands, startling everyone.

  “Bathroom,” he says shortly, before storming out.

  I glance over at Vince for explanation, but he just gives a subtle head-shake.

  Unconcerned, Mateo addresses the two at the other end of the table. “Francesca, Alec, this is Vince’s girlfriend, Mia.”

  “Hi, Mia,” Francesca says, offering a faint smile.

  The man just acknowledges me with a nod, looking up at the blonde as she fills my water glass, then Vince’s. “Can you bring me a beer when you get done with that?”

  “Of course,” she says, taking her water pitcher and disappearing through a doorway.

  “That’s Elise,” Vince tells me. “She’s a maid here.”

  “You have a maid,” I remark, not sure why I’m surprised. Someone would have to keep such an enormous house clean.

  “Two, actually. Maria’s in the kitchen, but once the food comes out I’m sure you’ll meet her, too.”

  Mateo takes a sip of his water, his eyes on me. “You look very nice in Francesca’s dress, Mia. I think you should keep it.”

  I feel my cheeks flush. “Oh, thank you. I couldn’t—”

  “Francesca doesn’t mind. Do you, Francesca?” he asks, without looking her way.

  “No, I have plenty,” she tells me.

  I have to look away from Mateo, because he won’t stop looking at me and I’m afraid my face is going to catch on fire. I look at the intricate blue lace design on the runner at the center of the table instead.

  “There,” Mateo says easily. “Now you have something to wear to dinner.”

  An edge to his voice, Vince says, “I will get her a couple of dresses for dinners.”

  Mateo merely smiles.

  Vince is still agitated, though, and I don’t know why he’s letting something so minor get to him. Out of all the bullshit that’s happened today, a relaxing dinner seems better than one fraught with little fights I don’t even understand.

  “Were you able to reach your mother?” Mateo asks me.

  “I didn’t talk to her, but I left a message about staying at Lena’s. It shouldn’t be an issue. Normally I’d have to babysit my siblings, but as luck would have it, I didn’t tonight or in the morning. I do have to watch them after school tomorrow though.”

  “Until when?”

  “Um… I—four, I think.”

  “Good. You can make it back for dinner.”

  A little uncomfortable, I say, “For just dinner, sure. I don’t think she’d let me stay the night again. I really very rarely spend the night at my friend’s house, so… she won’t accept that excuse indefinitely.”

  Elise is back with a large bottle of wine. She starts pouring at Mateo’s seat, then pours some for me and Vince, desp
ite neither of us being old enough to drink.

  “I want you to set up a dinner with your mother,” he tells me, grabbing the wine glass and taking a sip.

  “With…you?”

  He nods. “Me, you, Vince. I want to meet her. I’ll tell you the place, we’ll work out a time this week.”

  “This week?” I ask, eyes widening. “She’s only even met Vince one time, and barely.”

  “Does she know who he is?”

  I pause, awkwardness creeping up over me as I shake my head. No, weirdly enough, I did not tell my mother that the guy I was sort of seeing was from a mob family.

  I can’t tell whether or not that news pleases him. “Friday night works best for me.”

  I know she works until two this Friday, but I don’t know if she’s doing anything after. I guess she might be willing to cancel her plans for a dinner with Mateo Morelli. “I’ll ask.”

  Adrian comes back and settles in at the side of the table opposite Mateo, I wonder about the order of things here. Vince said the core people were all Morellis, so I assume Adrian is, but he doesn’t resemble Mateo. Alec does—a watered down, less attractive version with a slightly bigger nose, but you can tell he’s a Morelli. Francesca has the same coloring, the pitch-black hair and chocolate brown eyes. She’s really very pretty, and like me, she’s wearing a black dress tonight.

  Adrian, though, has smaller eyes, a different nose, hair a little lighter than chestnut—none of the same coloring. Only half his face is scarred, and I wonder if he’d look as intense without it.

  Until Elise approaches him again to deliver his salad, then his whole demeanor softens.

  I make a note to ask Vince about that whole situation later.

  I’m surprised when Cherie comes through the doors next, holding two baskets of bread. She places one at each end of the table, then leaves again, coming back with two little dishes of dipping oil.

  I frown, confused. Once she slips away again, I turn to Vince. “Is Cherie a maid?”