“Have you figured out what you’re in for yet, Morelli?” the oldest one asks scathingly when I find the courage to face them all again.
All too well,I think without answering. I’m still bound to my horrible fate and off to a terrible start.
5
Caterina
The awkwardness has not dissipated in the space of a minute or even three. A day could pass and it would probably stay like this. My mind is still spinning over my first interaction with Alessio, too. I wish I could wake up in Chicago again and start over. Or, just remain there reading a book.
I would expect the oldest girl to speak again after her words of warning, but she stares at me like I’m an insect frying under a magnifying glass in the sun. It’s the redhead who springs to her feet instead.
“Hi, I’m Francesca Donnelly, Alessio’s shamed cousin. Call me Frankie. I live in Reno with my mother under my Uncle Enzo’s protection. Oh, and with Cousin Rocco who everyone would rather forget exists.”
She lives with the vile cousin? Poor girl. She offers her hand, and I stare at it a beat too long. I’m not used to girls shaking hands and what did she mean by shamed? Flushing, I quickly take her hand at last which prompts the oldest to rise.
“Frankie only means she’s shamed because of her father. He’s Irish and turned Fed Witness to save his own hide. But, Frankie’s done nothing wrong. She’s pure.” I flush harder for some reason over the word ‘pure’ after being alone with my naked husband-to-be.
“I’m Gia,” she tells me next. She’s tall for a girl, and her shoulders and upper arms appear very well-defined under her Sunday Best. “I’m officially a bitter bitch but that’s not your fault… even if your brother killed mine.”
How could I be so stupid? Of course, they hate me.
“No real loss if you ask me,” Frankie mutters.
I expect the others to object, but they simply continue staring at me until Gia gives the blonde a meaningful look. She shrugs and stands, as graceful as a ballerina. “I’m Sofia, Silvio and Bibi De Luca’s younger daughter.” She tosses her golden hair as if she’s pronounced herself royalty. “And, this is our little brother, Valdo. He’s seven. Say hello,” she tells the boy with a nudge.
He gazes up at me with a cherub’s face but mischief twinkles in his blue eyes. “Alessio says he’ll take me with him on the debtor’s run someday.”
“Oh, that’s-”
“He usually breaks lots of kneecaps, he says.” My eyes boggle. He’sseven. What sort of animal takes a child along to witness that? “What happened to your hair? The front part is so ugly.”
“Shush, Valdo. That’s rude,” Sofia snips though it’s clear she agrees.
“Hair grows back. Just wait until I take the clippers to yours,” Frankie tells the boy with a wink that makes him grin, and I decide I like her already.
“Do they really call Nico Morelli the Beast?” Valdo asks me next.
“No, that’s my other brother, Dante. Nico is the eldest. He doesn’t have a nickname.”
“He’sthe murderer.”The way he says it with such relish sends a chill all through me. These De Lucas are to be my family? God, help me.
“Dante Morelli, the beast,” Sofia murmurs. “I’m glad I’m marrying New York instead of Chicago. No offense.” What do I say to that?
“You’re marrying the entire state?” Frankie teases her, relieving me of the need to say anything.
The levity makes me grin and the five of us fall into a discussion regarding all the intersecting betrothals intended to uphold this tenuous peace in the Trio. Then, the mood relaxes further when Valdo starts discussing video games, Frankie tells me all her favorite Taylor Swift albums and Sofia speaks of clothes and designers. They’re just kids like me. The nursery, Alessio called it. Asshole.
Gia has just turned eighteen and is to marry my father’s Consigliere, a man twice widowed, close to fifty and very unpleasant from all I know of him. “She’s been crying herself to sleep every night over it,” Valdo informs me.
“Do not, you little shit. I cry because you stink so bad.” But, I don’t doubt Valdo speaks the truth. Poor Gia. No wonder she labels herself bitter.
Frankie says she doesn’t expect to marry at all and seems glad of it. “No one will want a rat’s daughter for their wife.” I wonder if she’s truly escaped the fate of most girls born into the mafia, especially if they’re half as pretty as she is, or if she’s only hoping it will be so. But what kind of match would be made for a girl whose father turned informant for the FBI?
“Carlo Vicini,myintended, will be the most powerful man in the Trio someday,” Sofia tells me, smugly. Sheesh, this girl is full of herself. “Mom says he saw my photograph and instantly fell in love with me.”
I had heard one of Alessio’s half-sisters would be the future Don’s wife. I thought it would’ve been Gia since she’s older, but there’s no denying Sofia is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. Do they pass around pictures of us when it's time to choose? Do the highest-ranking men get first choice? I hate the idea with a passion.
Nico’s future wife will be married to Chicago along with Gia. Sofia will go to New York and I’m to marry Las Vegas. “And if peace breaks down again, then what? What happens to us girls?” I ask, unable to hide my fear.
