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Chapter Three
Elena
“Who the fuck is this?” That’s what the bitchy one asks as I come to sit down at the table with her and Ivana who I’ve made fast friends with, but when she says it, it is in Romanian and not English or Italian.
I couldn’t believe that I had managed to bump into two other Romanians in Italy at the same time the Clans are having an event. And right across the street, for that matter. However, it’s not like I have ever seen these women before. They don’t belong to the Clans from what I can tell. But I think about what Ivana said to me about fate while we were in line, and I laugh a little, probably pissing the other sister off more.
“Elena is who the fuck I am,” is what I answer, but I answer in Romanian to show that I know exactly what she said. Ivana’s sister seems shocked, her mouth with dark red lipstick on it literally hanging open.
“You speak Romanian?”
Now I take my seat, hoping that I’ve proved that I can be trusted here. I wonder what this bitch’s problem is, but maybe me and her can get along after all. I mean, I tend to be a bitch too. My time in private Catholic school turned me into exactly that. It was the only way I could survive. I was totally on my own, no matter what my father tells anyone. It is not the simple Christian place people might think it is, stereotypically.
“Well, I sure as hell hope so considering I am Romanian.”
“No shit?”
Ivana pipes up next. “I met Elena. She was in line behind me. Seems like she has a problem that I might be able to relate to and thought we could have some coffee together. I feel like we can be fast friends.”
The juxtaposition between the two sisters is so polarizing that it’s funny. They could easily be playing a part in a movie, 2D characters used to create an entertaining and opposite effect, but they are 100% real. Ivana is kind, personable, and talkative, while Galina, as I’ve learned her name is, is more reserved, cusses like a sailor, and opinionated.
“I can’t believe of all the places and all the people that there are that we ended up running into another Romanian in here on a coffee break,” Ivana says, continuing our conversation. It’s been light so far, and my coffee is sitting here now lukewarm because we’ve been talking so long. But it’s not like I’m in a hurry to get back to the fucking party where I’m being married off by my father. Maybe if I stay away he’ll just forget about it. I can get home and find a way to leave – for good.
I know it’s only wishful thinking. I know my father, and he will probably have a contract drawn up by the end of the night. He’s not leaving here without me having a husband or at least one in my near future, and I know it. And I don't think these contracts are easily broken. The mafia has better fucking lawyers than Hollywood.
“So, Elena, Ivana mentioned that you’re in some kind of trouble or having a problem that we might understand?”
It’s a little weird to talk about in this place, with strangers, but I feel the need to unload on someone. And maybe these girls do understand, and if they don’t, then at least I got it off my chest.
“Well, my father is obsessed with marrying me off. He has some very traditional views about things. We were invited to a big event here in town, one that I’m trying to stay away from right now, and he is using it to try and make a marriage contract. Like literally betroth me to someone. This is someone I barely know, and between meeting him tonight and hearing some rumors about him, I am almost certain that he doesn’t even like women. He plays for the other team, and no doubt he will never satisfy me. And he’ll never really be interested in me. I don’t know if my father is that naïve, or if he just doesn’t fucking care. But I feel trapped. My life isn’t mine.”
Taking another sip of my coffee, I stare down at the cup while waiting for them to say something. In this part of the world, there are still families with some old ideals, and so it might not seem as strange as it might, say if I said something like this to someone in the United States. However, that doesn’t mean I’m proud to admit that I’m a part of one of those families. It is still not the norm.
“I can see why Ivana took to you immediately. When she was just a baby, her life was chosen for her as well. She was already engaged to be married to someone by the time she was a toddler. The only difference was he seemed to be a nice and a good looking man. You know, until he grew up and he became an asshole like every other fucking one of them. All fucking useless if you ask me.” Wow, Galina deftly has something up her ass. But I kind of like it.
I think I can get along with these women just fine.
I look at Ivana, waiting on her to say something. I want to know if it’s true because, if so, this is just too freaking weird. I just happen to meet these two women, these two kindred spirits on the same day that I’m trying to escape a marriage contract myself. And the stifling expectations of my Catholic priest father.
“It’s true. I thought that I could fall madly in love with him. Hell, Iwasin love with him. But it turns out that I didn’t mean a whole hell of a lot to him. We spent one night together. But it turns out he was in love with someone else. And he married her instead of me. And now, here I am, a single mother and now we just lost our father, and it kind of is like everything is falling apart. I don’t mean to be a downer here, and don’t get me wrong, it’s made me stronger. But I wish I would’ve known sooner not to put my whole heart into it, you know?”
Damn, she wasn’t joking here. What a fucking dick.
“Sometimes I think men like that could use learning some hard lessons, if you know what I mean.” I wink at her, and both women laugh at that. I don’t know if I actually mean it is a joke or if they understand that I don’t. Those kinds of men, the ones who betray, become deadbeat dads, lie, and cheat – those are the ones that deserve to be put in their place, maybe even using the barrel of a gun. But sometimes some nails will do too.
“I don’t know what it is about you, bitch, but I’m starting to like you. And I don’t like anybody.” Galina’s twisted version of a girl crush causes me to smile. I can imagine all of us tearing up the town, going bar hopping, picking up every cock in the place that we want and then throwing them away.
This is a kind of camaraderie that I need after all these years of feeling like everyone is at an arm’s length. This is the direction I want my life to go. Being my own woman, having friends that I can trust and rely on. Not needing any man. And if one comes along I want, then if he wants me back, I’ll take it. But he’ll need to be as fucked up as me. And he’ll need to be able to handle all of me. All of my crazy. And he certainly won’t be so gay that he can’t even appreciate the fact that my cleavage is on point.
“Wait, so how did you end up betrothed to someone? Who is your family that they have these traditions?” Obviously, these women can’t be part of the Clans, but it’s not like the Clans are the only mafia around. I know that there are other families who are into criminal activity in Romania, as well as here in Italy. Though, the Russians, Italians, and even the Irish have their own form of mafia structure like the Clans do. And of course, there are those who are related to the royals in countries that still have a monarchy that might have these kinds of arrangements still. For all I know these women are duchesses or something.
“We don’t like to talk about it. But I just feel like I can trust you. This can’t leave this table.”
“Of course not.” I’m a little surprised and now incredibly curious to find out what these women have been involved in as I get the feeling they have been through a lot of hell. And they’ve grown from it. I mean, after talking to them, it really sounds like Ivana has recently had the worst time of her life. A brand-new baby and nobody to help her take care of it other than maybe her sister, who doesn’t exactly seem to be the motherly type.
No offense to her. But she just doesn’t.
They begin at the beginning. They tell me a story. All about their father.
