AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His captains are sitting on either side of him, ignoring me as if I’m not there. Strange, as these are the same men, I’ve known all my life. I guess now I am an outcast.
Hours later, we are back home in New York. I sit in papa’s stifling office, hardly able to meet his steely gaze. I can feel the fury radiating off him like a live electrical current.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” Papa says in his painfully slow monologue. He has the gift of not needing to raise his voice to incite fear into people, but everybody knows if you are summoned to this office, it won’t be pretty. I sit back in the leather chair as he rages on, the words ‘shame’ and ‘dishonour’ are frequently being used.
My chest feels frozen to its core, and Anton’s dead eyes replay in my head.
“You’re lucky you made it out alive,” he says standing up.
“You killed Anton, I saw you.” I say, shivering despite it being a sultry August night.
“Did you expect another outcome? The Russians are our enemies. Did you think they weren’t planning to kill you too?”
“No, they weren’t.”
“How do you think we knew where to find you? Stupid girl, it was all a trap. Have you any idea how much shame you have brought on this family? My only daughter running off with a Romanov, almost being wed in matrimony to a non-Sicilian. A Russian no less.”
“I don’t believe you, he would have never hurt me. You should have let me die there with him then be your prisoner,” I say, almost surprised at my words.
He slaps me hard across the face, the force so intense that I feel the air sucked out of me. “You will atone for this shame, and you will not tell anyone about this. Ever.” he says, his voice shaking with anger. “Take her away Gabriella.” He motions to mama, who is hovering in the doorway nervously as he turns his back on me in dismissal mingled with disgust. I don’t move out of protest, but she pulls me roughly up by the arms.
“Take that off,” she says, ushering me into my bedroom and motioning to the bloodstained wedding dress. I undress swiftly and she picks it up and throws it into the fireplace. I watch as the flames swallow the material. The smell of blood being replaced by ash.
“You’re lucky to still be alive. What were you thinking?” she says, shaking me hard as if trying to knock sense into me.
“I love him,” I say blankly.
“What do you know about love?” She snorts. “When you do marry, and that is if you ever do, papa makes that decision. Not you, and don’t you dare ever question it,” she says with a glare as she walks out the room.
My head shifts back to the present, and I’m back at Angela and Rocco’s canceled wedding rehearsal, with Papa’s dark eyes burning into mine. “Why not Pietro? Everything is already organized.” I mumble, not wanting to provoke him.
“Contractual change, Rocco settled for you to keep business going.”
“Settled?” I say taken aback.
“Yes, settled, you are not a prize, Sophia,” he replies harshly. “Let’s not pretend that everyone isn’t aware of your past.”
“Nobody knows about Anton. You said—”
“Yes, but they know you were with another man, a non-Sicilian. I never had high hopes for a good suitor after that but now things have changed.”
“What happens to Angela?” I say slowly.
“That’s for Don Vincenzo to decide, I thought you would be pleased, Sophia.”
“Pleased?” I say snorting.
“Croccifixio is a Donof the five families. Pietro will not be a Don for a long time, and Croccifixio can give you all the things he can’t. It will be a good match, and he has shown willingness to look past your indiscretions.”
“I’m sure he has plenty of his own,” I say tersely.
“We will be holding your engagement party in two days, followed by the wedding in a week.Don Croccifixiowas keen to keep the original wedding date, but I have brought you some time toacclimatizeto the idea of your new fiancé. I suggest you use that time to fix your attitude, Sophia, because there are no second chances if you screw up this time.”
Papa walks out and slams the door leaving me standing there in stunned silence.
The door opens a few minutes later, and I freeze. Those aren’t Papa’s footsteps, they’re Rocco’s.
“Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?” I ask sarcastically.
