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Suna
Disappearing from a family like mine wasn’t easy, but luckily, I’d been planning it for a while. Two days after the party and only a few days away from the wedding was my time.
The violin class I attended was in a tiny Upper East Side apartment. There was no space for my father’s lackeys to follow me in there, so they waited outside. They had no idea about the back service elevator the instructor had shown me once that issued out in an alley around the back of the building. From there, I only had to navigate one block to reach the subway station and freedom.
I had it all planned. I’d take the subway to the farthest point, rent a car with my fake license and cash, and then drive. I’d stop when I hit the Canadian border. My maid, Yumi, had come through with the license, and I hoped it would work. She was the only one in the estate who knew my plans, and I’d given her a letter to give to Hana when they realized I was gone.
The house had been a flurry the last few days with wedding preparations. My dress was a designer's dream, a cloud of sequins, pearls, and chiffon skirts. It was so beautiful; I was almost sad I wouldn’t get to wear it. Then my mother took me aside and gifted me underwear that could be opened with the tug of a ribbon, and my resolve hardened.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t be the wife that Vincenzo demanded. The bored, well-kept house pet. I wouldn’t be. Maybe if I’d been marrying some other man, someone weaker or less alert, I could have put off running for a while, but I couldn’t afford to waste any time with Vincenzo. Panic swelled in me every time I thought of that kiss, but only when I was awake. When I was asleep, my dreams of him were warm and sensual, and I woke empty and needy. The man was like poison, slowly spreading through my system, making me weak. If I married him, I’d quickly lose the little independence I was currently allowed. It had nearly happened to me once, and I’d promised myself it would never happen again.
Vincenzo had been sending roses every day, vases of blood-red perfection. They arrived at the same time, and my mother always clapped and beamed, exclaiming over Vincenzo’s romantic nature. She had no idea. The man wasn’t a romantic. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and for some reason, he was determined to marry me. The bouquets came with little cards I secreted to myself. On it, there was a single number, a countdown. The man was a monster. I guessed the deal between him and my father was priceless. It probably wouldn’t have mattered if Vincenza was getting Hana or me as a bride. Vincenzo was a businessman, and he was going after the prize. A hefty deal and a woman to bear him a couple of heirs.
“Suna, you’re distracted today,”Miss Simone said, stopping the metronome and raising an elegant French eyebrow at me.
“I’m sorry. I have a bit of a headache,” I lied.
“Of course, wedding planning is stressful. I hope you’re not dieting. You’re too slight as it is,” my teacher said, folding her sheet music. “Enough for today. I cannot stand a distracted player, and especially not one as talented as you. I will see you after the wedding when you can concentrate again.”
I nodded, my mouth filled with cotton. I’d miss my lessons and Miss Simone.“I don’t know if my husband will let me come as often,” I whispered as we walked toward the door to the apartment. “I wanted to tell you how much I’ve enjoyed coming here.”
Miss Simone had always treated me like a regular student, not the heiress of a mafia family. I’d loved that about her.
She patted my hand.“I’m sure your husband won’t disagree. He’ll want to make you happy, no?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“Congratulations, Suna. I hope your husband deserves you.”
With that, she kissed me on both cheeks and ushered me into the hall. I waited until the door closed and then darted the opposite way from the stairwell. I’d needed the lesson to end early in case any of my unwanted bodyguards, assigned by my father, happened to come up the narrow stairs to collect me. So far, it was silent in the echoing stairwell except for the occasional bang of my violin case against the railing. I headed deeper into the old-fashioned building, winding through corridors until I came to it—the rickety old service elevator, complete with a cage and about a million spiderwebs.
I stepped inside and pulled it closed, praying it could withstand one more journey. It moved slowly downward, and I hitched my backpack in place, running through my inventory again. All I needed was the cash and the I.D. I should probably leave my violin here, and maybe Miss Simone could gift it to another student. The thought made me sad, and I clutched it tighter. I was bound to pass a charity shop. I could always hand it in somewhere another time.
The elevator reached the ground floor and shuddered to a stop. I opened the cage and stepped out tentatively. A man was cutting the grass in the communal garden, and another was reading a paper. Who read a newspaper anymore? Otherwise, it was quiet, and there was no sign of my father’s men. I took the path to the alley and pulled on the baseball cap stashed in my pocket. With my head down and hair tucked in, I could blend in. With my skinny jeans, oversized hoodie, and violin case, I could pass as a teen on her way home from school.
I reached the creaking metal gate that led to the alley and stepped out. Back in the garden, the man with the paper stood up, and his eyes seemed to follow me. I froze when they fixed on me. He was watching me. As I stared him down, he took a vibrating cell phone from his pocket and brought it to his ear. Tension and the creeping knowledge that something bad was about to happen filled me.
I turned and ran, adrenaline pumping through my veins as I headed down the alley. I was almost there, so close to freedom I could touch it when a huge black SUV pulled off the road and blocked the exit. I adjusted course to slip past, but it was impossible. The door opened as I wriggled around the end, and a hand clamped down on my shoulder.
“Suna, tesora. I’ve come to pick you up.”
Vincenzo’s voice cascaded across me, warm and full of amusement and something else. Something angry, maybe. He was right behind me, and I turned to take him in. I looked up and up to find his face as he pulled off my baseball cap, causing my hair to tumble across my shoulders.
“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” he asked, his voice a soft caress.
I swallowed the lump of disappointment in my throat and shrugged. The taste in my mouth was bitter and filled with pain. I’d failed. I’d never be left alone now until the marriage was done, and then I’d have a new prison warden for life.
“I had to try,” I said simply.
Vincenzo nodded as if he expected my words. “Come on. Get in the car,” he said, tugging me forward.
“Are you going to take me home?” I asked, already anticipating my father’s rage for embarrassing him.
“Yes, but not to the Song compound,” Vincenzo said, stilling me in my tracks. “You, my soon-to-be wife, are coming home with me.”
