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The crystals hanging off the chandeliers almost look fake, but I know they aren’t. Their dim light leaves a warm shadow on all the familiar faces. Papa wouldn’t invest money in something like this and not put in everything he could to go over-the-top. The columns curve up to the ceiling, forming archways all over the restaurant. Green vines flow down the walls. I think they’re real.
My eyelids fall in slow motion when I see Giovanni enter with a woman, her hair long and blonde. It’s the girl he was with a week before the wedding—the one who tried to steal his money.
Why the hell would he bring her here?Why is he even with her in the first place?The punishment for stealing a man’s money is the loss of a finger. And all of hers are still intact with bright pink nail polish coating her fingernails.
I bite down on my teeth.
Why do I feel jealous of her? She isn’t even all that pretty.
They walk closer, his hand inches away from her ass, her dress far too short for an event like this. Pink, just like her nails, and skintight.
I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt though—she has no idea what this family is like, or how we do things.
It’s an overwhelming feeling of relief when I see my sister skipping toward me, her smile bright as always.
“Where is Mama at?” she asks.
We sit in the middle of the table as everyone finds their own seat.
“I don’t know.” I honestly don’t. Mama doesn’t always like to come to these dinners because of how they normally end. “And where is Carlo?” I ask.
“He is talking to Papa, over there.” She points in the same direction Gio is in.
They start to walk over to the table. Giovanni doesn’t even pull the chair out for her, which confirms some of my thoughts.
She is just another one of his toys.
He pulls the empty seat out from right next to me and sits down. His eyes find mine as I deflect them instantly and turn my head down.
I’ve been picking at the skin surrounding my nails. It really frustrates me that Giovanni gets under my skin this much.
Why does he have to look so freaking good in a suit?
His smell waves right past me as his hand brushes over my back, his mouth coming closer to my ear, making my breath stop suddenly.
“You look beautiful.”
I am at a loss for words. If I say anything he will just assume that he gets under my skin. If I say nothing, he will still assume that.
Because he already knows he does. He knows that he can say anything to me and I will fold under his words. Come to think of it, not much has changed since the time he left. He still makes me nervous. He still acts like he owns me. Is this what I want? At this point, am I even allowed to want anything? My two years are practically over, and I have to do whatever Papa says without any complaints.
I have truly become a prisoner to my own promises.
I shake my head slightly, trying to focus on the air that runs through my lungs.
Breathe, just breathe. It’s nothing.
Someone’s arms wrap around me from behind. I shift my head, looking up to see Madeleine standing above me with a smile warping her face from ear to ear.
“Oh, mon Dieu!”I screech, trying to get up out of the chair.
She steps back, jumping up and down in place.“Oh, mon Dieu!”she mimics with a light laugh.
I don’t really get to see her much at all anymore. Time has definitely changed her for the better. She finally learned how to put makeup on without making her eyelids pure black. She always made herself look like a racoon and never heard the end of it from me.
It feels so good to see her again my heart can barely contain its excitement when I look at her. We may not be related by blood, but she has always been a sister to me.
“How are you?” I ask, bringing my lips to her cheeks just like my mama always does.
