"They feel threatened," she says quietly. "Their positions and money come from their husbands. As do the rules that they would impose on you. But never forget this, Mrs. D’Ambrosio. Their husbands kneel to yours, and they must kneel to you."
"I don't feel like anyone kneels for me."
"But they must." Elena's eyes soften. "Remember what you are. You're the Don's wife, and there isn't a woman in this church who stands above you. Be brave, my dear, and you’ll be fine."
Be brave.
The words go straight through me and out the other side, and my palm can feel the duffel bag strap biting against it.
Be brave, baby. Be brave for me.
I don't let it show on my face. But then I look down and see the little girl's small fingers laced through Elena's as she leans into her mother, and a fresh, hot ache opens up under my ribs.
"Thank you, Elena, that means a lot." I manage.
Elena squeezes my arm once and moves toward the pews with her daughter, and I'm alone again.
I need air. I need a wall to put my back against and a minute to breathe where no one is measuring me.
I turn and start toward the quieter end of the church, past a row of dark wooden booths in a separate alcove, and that's when I hear them behind me. They're not bothering to lower their voices much now, sure that I'm out of range.
"...cheap," Mila says. "Did you see how she just stood there? No family, no name, no idea how anything works."
"He'll get tired of her," Carina says. "Once he’s worn her out."
"How long do you think it’ll be?" Talia laughs softly. "Disposable girls like her are a dime a dozen."
The words follow me down the aisle.Cheap.Disposable. A dime a dozen.From three women who were bought and dressed for exactly that purpose. The words are so backwards that I'd almost laugh if they didn't sting.
But they do sting. Every one of them sticks under my skin like a splinter. And as much as I want to convince myself otherwise, there’s a part of me that’s scared that they might be right.
I keep walking, past the alcove towards the row of confession booths. I just want to hide for a moment. I just want to be alone for a while.
I duck into the nearest one and close the door behind me.
Outside, the murmuring gossip dies down to nothing more than an angry whisper, and I sink quietly onto the narrow wooden seat while a single tear beads at my eyes. I pull Elena's scarf tighter, and finally,finally, let myself breathe.
16
NICO
“Been like that since Friday,”Dante is still grumbling about cops raiding his bars, but I’ve stopped listening a long time ago.
My eyes keep darting towards the rows of pews, searching for Lydia and her red dress. I didn’t want to walk away while she had to face the trophy wives on her own.
As I look over the flow of people settling into their seats, I spot Dante’s wife and her little flock of vipers easily enough. One of them waggles her fingers at Anastasio. He cocks an eyebrow and smirks in response, but does nothing else.
But Lydia is still nowhere to be seen.
I should’ve put Anastasio on Lydia to fend them off, or at least distract the ones who were willing to cuckold their husbands with him.
“I trust that you know how to deal with the cops,” I finally snap at Dante. “Do what you have to do to get them to stop. Bribe them if you have to, talk to the precinct heads to get themreassigned if necessary. You knew how to handle them for my father, I expect you to do the same for me.”
“I have, Don Nico.” Urgency moves into Dante’s voice. “But these aren’t the usual patrol cops. They’re from the OCCB. And I haven’t even started about the Diamandis Family putting pressure on us in Red Hook.”
I raise my hand. “And you won’t. There’s a time and place for these reports, and church isn’t the place for it. Do I make myself clear, Dante?”
“Crystal, Don Nico.” Dante nods.
