“Da.”
Later that night.
I look at Mia’s text messages, and she only talks to Valentina. My heart skips a beat, and my blood boils.
Mia sounds lonely and only has Valentina. She’s scared about having to marry a stranger, one that Conti picks.
This pisses me off.
I look at her photos, the ones that they take together and of each other. Da, I’m a sick svoloch’ but I want to know a little about her.
Then I discovered Mia’s journal on her cell, and I read the last two entries.
Today was awful. It is really painful to learn the truth about Mama. I heard Mama and Don Elio talk about me. He’s going to marry me off to whoever Don picks. Mama is okay with it because Don is going to give her two million dollars to keep her happy. It hurts. Mama doesn’t love me nor protect me. She never did and for sure never will. I only have Valentina, and she’s going to marry soon. I pray that she’s happy and that her husband allows her to talk to me.
I wish I were staying at Don Elio’s house because then I would be close to Valentina. Mama is still on vacation, and as always, I’m all alone.
Der’mo!
I’m such an ass.
I shouldn’t be reading her journal.
But now I feel a connection with her, with her pain. I want to hold her and protect her.
She’s such a sweet, beautiful girl.
Two
Mia
The next day.
“Mia, I’m so glad that you’re going to stay with us for a while since your Mama is going to be out for the month. Don Elio is sometimes thoughtful, right? He didn’t want you to be alone in that big house,” Valentina says, smiling.
I look at her, and I wonder if she really thinks that.
“You don’t think that he wants to control his assets? I mean, I have to be pure for my husband, right?”
“Geeze, Mia, I think that he does care. But you’re right, that could be true,” Valentina nods.
“Yeah, so what are we going to do today?”
Valentina's cell beeps, and she looks at it.
“Don Elio wants to talk to me. So, we can decide after I talk to Don Elio.”
“Okay.”
Valentina walks out of the room. I lean back on the chair and look out the window at the guards walking around the grounds. At least here, I feel safe, and Valentina and I try to have fun.
After about thirty minutes, Valentina returns, and she looks odd. She appears surprised, or should I say shocked.
“What’s wrong?”
Valentina walks over to me and hands me the paper. I read the paper, raising my brow to look at her.
“It’s the schedule for the next three weeks. I’m going to get married. I need to go select my wedding dress and dresses. Would you be my maid of honor?”
