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Emiliana wriggles in my arms, eyes pleading. “Mamma, can we get gelato on the way home?”
I open my mouth to respond in the affirmative when Vinnie rumbles, “Your father wants to see you.”
My heart sinks. No one refuses the don. I swallow hard and force a smile. “Not today, my love. We’ll get gelato tomorrow.”
Emiliana’s face falls. I hug her tighter, wishing I could shield her from the life I was born into. But for now, we have no other choice.
“Come, Emiliana,” I say gently, taking her hand. “Let’s go home.”
We walk to the waiting bulletproof Bentley, trailed by Luca and Vinnie. Emiliana chatters about her day, heedless of the two hulking men behind us. I make all the right noises, but my thoughts are consumed with dread. What does Father want? He rarely summons me unless it involves family business.
The armored car glides uptown, Emiliana pressed to the window gazing wide-eyed at the city streaming by. We turn west on 29th street and approach the wrought iron gates of my father’s estate. Green Field Mansion occupies an entire city block, an impenetrable fortress overlooking Fairmount Park.
Once inside the grounds, Emiliana skips ahead while I follow slowly. My footsteps feel leaden, my heart a stone in my chest. I wish I could flee with my daughter, escape to a place my father’s shadow can never touch us. But that is only a fantasy. Father controls everything, including my access to money.
At the front door, I kneel and fold Emiliana into my arms. “Go with Anna, my love. I’ll see you at dinner.” Emiliana pouts but allows her nanny to lead her away to our little cottage on the grounds, where Em and I live.
Taking a deep breath, I enter the mansion and make my way to the don’s study. Two more of my father’s men stand guard outside the heavy oak doors. They nod silently and admit me.
My father sits behind his desk, black eyes unreadable. Fear trickles down my spine like ice water. I speak up. “You summon me, Father?”
He looks up from his desk, his intense black eyes shining through my soul. He extends his hand and I walk up to him, bending to the ground to give the back of his hand a kiss.
“Sit, Caterina,” he commands.
I nod and take a seat. He goes back to his papers and I sit there, waiting. A minute passes by. Then two. Three. Fifteen.
I want to sigh, but I don’t. Ever since childhood, I’ve had one thing made clear to me—my father, Tony “Enforcer” Genovese did not become Don Genovese by paying heed to the wants, needs, or comforts of others. He only cares for one person—himself.
Everyone else around him is disposable, or a tool that acts as a means to an end. My mother too, was a means to an end. A wealthy heiress whose dowry helped fund his exploits. It’s no wonder she took her life when I was a teenager, haunted by a marriage to a man who used her for what he wanted and when she couldn’t deliver, his endless wrath turned to her. He wanted a son—something she could never give him. In turn, he got me. An only daughter.
At last, he looks up from his papers. He motions for his associates to exit the room. Then, my father stares at me, hands clasped in front of him.
“How are you?” he asks.
“I’m good, Papa,” I answer, a smile on my face.
“And Emiliana?”
“She’s good too,” I say, my heart pounding in my chest. He never asks about her. I wonder what he’s playing at.
He regards me coolly. “It’s time you married, Caterina.”
No.No!I sway, suddenly feeling faint. Please, not this again. I would not be sold off like cattle. “Father…” I whisper. “Father, no.”
“No?” he questions.
I shuffle in my seat, wondering what to say as words fail me. How can he do this to me? To Emiliana? I try reasoning in my mind. Perhaps it’s only a suggestion from him, a piece of advice for my future happiness. Yet, something tells me this is an order. He’s sitting there, fingers interlinked, waiting for my response.
“What about Emiliana?” I ask at last. “I don’t want to get married, Father. We don’t need a man in our lives. We…we have you, and you are everything to us,” I lie, trying to soothe his ego and compliment him.
He smiles. “You do have me, Caterina. You have always had me. Look back on your thirty-two years of existence and think of all the things I’ve done for you and my granddaughter. A child born out of wedlock, to a father unidentified, and yet I took her in and I raised her like my own.”
Like his own? She’s not his!I think to myself, simmering with hidden rage.
“And after all that I have done for you, what have you done for me?” he continues. “Nothing. Until now. Now, you will marry a nice man I choose to be your husband, and that is that. This is how you show gratefulness to your father, who you just said is everything to you. Or are those just words, Caterina?”
I hold back my true thoughts. In no realistic scenario could I ever call my father out on his manipulation without serious consequences. He has never accepted Emiliana. He tried to get me to have an abortion, but it was simply too late to gothrough with it. He has never embraced her or me, he just keeps us until we can help fulfill his destiny.
