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“Juliana will be marrying the Capo of Chicago, placing her in a position of power and making her the envy of many.” My mother, Casmundina Bonardi, was a typical Mafia wife: obedient and demure, yet ruthlessly ambitious for her family.
“Mother, we all know that as a woman, I will hold no power. My sole duties will be to obey my husband and provide him with heirs.”
“Well, regardless, make sure you look happy at the prospect. Today will be Marco Marchiano’s first opportunity to see his proposed bride. He is eight years older than you, and he will expect a certain level of maturity from you, not to mention that your father will be furious if you do not perform well today.”
Perform. I was terrified; however, I knew that I could not show weakness to Marco Marchiano, and I hoped I would be able to put on the best performance of my life. The age gap between us concerned me, but to be honest, that was the least of my worries.
My mother carried on babbling away, not giving me a moment’s peace. “I’m overjoyed that at least one of my daughters will make a great marriage. Jessica, you really should make more of an effort with your appearance. It will be your turn to marry soon, but I’m not sure who will want to marry a girl as plain as you.”
Jessica merely shrugged off the remark, being used to our mother’s tactlessness. It pained me, though, when I heard people refer to her as being plain.
My mother thought it was a tragedy that Jessica hadn’t been blessed with the same striking eyes as my brother and me. I thought, however, that Jessica was pretty in her own way; even more importantly, she was the kindest girl I knew. Unfortunately, in this world, and particularly in the Mafia life, people were too concerned with superficial qualities: women were supposed to be beautiful, and men were meant to be powerful.
I checked my reflection in the mirror above the dresser. “I just don’t see why I have to be yanked out of school so suddenly—I wish I could have finished high school at least.”
Although I was nineteen, I had missed a year of school after a severe bout of pneumonia, so I still had a few months left until I would receive my High School Diploma. I had been hoping to persuade my father to let me study veterinary nursing afterward, although I knew that would have been a long shot given the sort of life we led.
“Don’t think your father didn’t tell me that when Emanuel spoke to you, you tried to use your schooling as an excuse not to marry. As if you’ll need a High School Diploma to be a Mafia wife!” exclaimed my mother, throwing her hands into the air. “You are lucky you weren’t ‘yanked’ out of school before now and sent to the old country to learn how to cook.”
The old country—by that she meant Italy, the land of her birth and a place she reminisced about through rose-tinted glasses.
“You girls have had a privileged upbringing with servants to see to your every need, and when you marry, your husband will provide the same sort of wealthy lifestyle. High School Diploma, indeed,” she huffed.
“I only meant—”
“I don’t care what you meant, Juliana. Sometimes I think my daughters have turned into tactless Americans, despite my best efforts to bring you up in the traditions of the old country.”
“But why does it all have to take place so quickly? Two months is hardly any time to make all the wedding arrangements.”
What I really meant was that two months was not enough time to prepare myself. I would be leaving everyone and everything I knew here in L.A. and moving across the country to Chicago to be the wife of the Fratellanza Capo.
“Don’t worry,” smiled my mother. “I have everything under control. I have been waiting a long time for the day when one of my children gets married. It is the event that everyone is talking about, and it will be the wedding of the year!”
I looked at Jess. We both knew that the reason everyone was talking about the wedding was because of their shock that the Società would wed one of their daughters to a brutal savage like Marco Marchiano.
I was being married off to a barbarian who had murdered his own parents. A shudder ran through me at the mere thought of meeting this man.
I knew that some other Società families had been jealous when it had been rumored that I would wed Emanuel Santino’s son and heir, and other mothers had been envious that I was considered to be a beauty. Right now, however, I would give anything to be unattractive and uninteresting so that Marco Marchiano would not want to marry me.
There was a knock at my bedroom door, and my older brother, Jacob, popped his head around the door. “Hey, the Marchianos have arrived and are downstairs in the drawing room talking to Father and the Santino family. Father wants Juliana to come down now.”
I took one last look at my reflection in the mirror before I stood up, straightened my back and held my head high, preparing myself to walk into the lion’s den.
MARCO
We had arrived in L.A. at the home of the Bonardi family. It was my first visit to L.A. in years.
Two of my brothers, Alessio and Camillo, had accompanied me today, along with some of my best soldiers.
My brothers and I ruled the Fratellanza with a fist of iron. Together we were known as the ‘Kings of Chicago.’ On our way to the top, we had killed many men and made numerous enemies, one of them being the Società.
As we drove up to the house, we could see that the front door was already open and there was a welcoming committee: Emanuel Santino and Cecilio Bonardi. Of course, the guards at the gate had already radioed ahead to alert them of our arrival.
“This is our last opportunity to change our minds,” Alessio declared, as I clicked the car into park and turned off the engine.
“No chance,” I drawled. "I’m looking forward to seeing the virgin they have chosen to sacrifice to me.”
My brother, Alessio, didn’t think much of this marriage that the Società was insisting on. He had analyzed the situation and still wasn’t convinced that the merits would outweigh the downsides. However, our escalating problems with the Russian Bratva meant that this strategic alliance would be highly beneficial for both sides.
