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‘Thank you,’ I called out to them both and looked around for Zeno. I knew we were no longer close; in fact, he generally did his upmost to avoid even being in the same room as me, but I wanted to see if he was even remotely interested. When I found him with his back to me, talking to some men I didn’t recognise, I realised that as I’d expected, he wasn’t. However, what did take me by surprise was that there was no pain inside of me at the realisation. Standing there in the bright sunshine with the world at my feet, I concluded that the two of us might share the same parents, but we were completely different.
‘Ready?’ my papa questioned.
I met his smile with my own, knowing it was the first real one I’d managed all day and nodded at him as slowly as I felt my stomach settle. It had been turning over and over since I’d first lifted my head up from the small satin ballet shoes on my feet to look at my reflection in my mum’s full-length Baroque styled mirror, and the rock of the sprung carriage hadn’t helped. With my feet firmly on the ground, I stood as tall as my five foot three inches would allow and watched as my papa stepped back. In doing so, he allowed my mum to move forward with the long, plain veil she had carried in the car with her and my younger siblings.
We were now the same height.
With our matching eyes focussed solely on each other, hers showing me the love she felt, she carefully wafted the expensive fabric of my lightweight veil into the air. As it settled around me, with my mum’s eyes still firmly fixed on mine, I understood that today was my right of passage, to start travelling from childhood to womanhood.
‘You look beautiful, Serafina. Enjoy your day.’ She took my hands into hers and squeezed them, before releasing them and me to face my future.
And I knew I was ready.
With my veil carefully pinned into place at the back of the headdress that was made entirely of fresh flowers, I exhaled slowly. My nerves dissipated and my worries floated away, to be replaced with an excitement I had only ever experienced down on the beach below our Italian home. Feeling unburdened, I straightened my back and aligned myself ready to face my future, whatever it might bring.
After arranging us into couples of boy, girl, and shushing the others’ excited chattering into silence, our families disappeared inside the church. We waited ten minutes for them to take their seats, under the watchful eye of some of the younger priests, and beneath the warm sun I stared straight ahead as I strained my ears for our cue to move. Then, as the music began to play, I allowed my feet to carry me forward. Eventually, we found ourselves inside and for several seconds, before my eyes could adjust to the change in the dimly lit building, I walked on in a trance like state.
We walked through the full church and as the aisle opened up, I took my place and knelt on one of the many navy-blue cushions that had been placed in two long rows. My mum had explained earlier that the girls would take the front row and the boys being taller would kneel behind us. Looking around me, I watched as the other girls began to lift their veils as they readied themselves to receive the Sacrament. I started to do the same, before realising my veil was so long that I was kneeling on part of it. Knowing that all eyes would be looking at us and beginning to feel flustered, I felt a blush hit my cheeks.
‘Allow me.’ I heard a familiar, deep, resonating voice in my ear as warm breath brushed over the bare skin of my neck. Without turning around, I knew the man behind me was Salvatore. I understood in that exact moment just why I’d felt so excited as my carriage had pulled up outside; my body had felt him nearby.
‘Thank you,’ I whispered.
One of his strong hands cupped my elbow, encouraging me to lean slightly to one side. The warmth of his touch spread from my elbow throughout the whole of my body in seconds. His touch caused my breathing to stutter, and I felt panic that anyone who was watching the two of us would be able to see how I reacted to him. Finally, the small movement he’d helped me to make, allowed me to free the veil from underneath the knee I’d trapped it with. With my veil free, Salvatore steadied me and let go of my elbow. I watched as his large hands appeared either side of me and he lifted my veil up and over my head.
‘You are a vision, Serafina. I look forward to lifting your veil again on our wedding day.’ I heard his voice once again as his breath fluttered over the sensitive skin of my ear lobe and I felt his words deep down inside my soul.
Our wedding day?
Never had I been more grateful for the loud music being played in the church. I prayed that I had been the only one who’d heard him.
With my eyes firmly fixed onto the floor ahead of me and breathing in the scent of him that appeared to have wrapped itself around me, I tried to fight against the reactions of my body to his words and went through the motions of receiving the Sacrament. But rather than taking God into my heart, I understood my heart would only ever belong to one man, the one on his knees behind me.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SALVATORE
Twenty-Four Years Old
One Year Later
‘Doyou understand what needs to be done?’ Nonno spoke.
‘Yes.’ I nodded resolutely and after cupping my hands together behind my back, I widened my stance as I looked down into the eyes of the only one of my elders who had welcomed me into my family, the only one I had any respect for.
‘You’re sure that…’ He shook his head and started again. ‘Are you sure she will speak up?’ I could see that he would have preferred to call her by name, but I’d given her name to no one, wanting to protect her and myself.
‘She will.’ The truth was Sophia thought I was in love with her, and she was willing to do anything for me. Even remain working in the brothel I’d found her in, while I sought out the information I was searching for. She thought she knew who I was, when in truth no one really knew me. Although I’d never lied to her, I’d made certain noises that I was working my way up in the ranks and she’d surmised I was going to take her with me.
I’d first met Sophia in a Ndrangheta run brothel the night Serafina and I had taken our first communion, when I’d arrived there desperately seeking a release. I’d gone through the motions of our communion day, making the required noises in the places that necessitated a response, with every single part of my body trained on the girl who was soon to become a woman knelt in front of me. Annoyingly, I’d become fixated on the bare skin she had on show at the nape of her neck. As the need to touch her and the urge to taste her had become all-consuming, to the point my hands had twitched and my tongue salivated, finally the service had come to an end. I’d stood abruptly and not making small talk with anyone, I’d left the building. Kicking my bike to life, I’d roared away and found myself at the brothel.
After downing a couple of grappas, I’d watched from the dark corner I’d positioned myself in when Sophia had first been paraded in. She was young, pretty and attracted a lot of attention from many of the men there, but being a recognised De Luca came with many advantages, including getting first choice of which pussy to fuck. I’d merely lifted my index finger as I motioned to the madam that I wanted her. As she’d lowered herself down, staring into my eyes while she moved her open mouth over the bulge of my cock, I’d managed to take in just how much interest there was in her from around the large room. I’d wound her long, thick hair around my fist as she gripped my thighs with her manicured nails and knew that not only was I going to blow my load down her slim throat, but I’d also found what I hadn’t realised I’d been looking for.
She’d thought that I’d fallen for her, when all I’d done was to recognise that in the Ndrangheta run brothel that she was working in, she was bound to be able to watch the goings on of those I had been given the job of hunting down.
I’d slept with her that night, firstly treating her as gently as I could and afterwards fucking her hard, needing to relieve the itch I’d been carrying around all day. Then I’d gone back night after night, until she believed I was in love with her. Slowly, she’d let me in and I found out that she was perfect. She had no family that she was aware of, having arrived in the brothel after being sold as a young child. She was pretty and looked younger than the twenty years of age she thought she was. Her madam had taught her well, as she was skilled in the art of fucking, which made her a popular choice with the clients and made her the right pick for me also. She was in a position that would allow me to glean the information I needed to start to take them down, like they’d taken my mother, and other young women and girls after her.
I’d started slowly, gaining her trust, before beginning to question Sophia about her work and who paid her for what, and although she was embarrassed at first to answer questions about the services she supplied to others, I’d soon convinced her that it was a particular kink of mine and she’d eagerly given me the information.
