Romeo was smiling to himself, as though he’d just made a great joke. He was chuckling lightly and peering around the table, as though he was expecting each of us to react. My father was having none of it.
“This is no laughing matter, Romeo,” he said, swirling the drink in his glass. “We’ve invited nobody from the underworld. Do you all know why?”
There was a silence that fell between all of us. It was a trick question. There was no real way to answer it that would please my father. It was rhetorical. He wanted to answer it himself so that he could dominate the family meeting.
“It’s because they think they get a share in what we took from the Bonifacio’s, that's why. This wedding needs to be between us, our guys, and the people that were left high and dry when the Bonifacio’s were taken out.”
Romeo leaned forward with his arms on the table. “I’m not sure that’s the best way to go about it. I would have invited them. Shown them that we’re taking over.”
“You saw what happened when we tried to have a civilized conversation,” my father said, his tone sharp. “The last thing we need is a fuck up at the wedding.”
“Should we carry?” Savio asked, glancing at each of us. “It might be best if we do.”
“Of course we should. I’ll be letting our guys know, too.”
Romeo sighed. “So, is there anything else?”
My father was incredibly unimpressed with Romeo’s words but remained silent. He simply glared at us as he took another drink. Romeo clearly didn’t get the idea of the meeting, which was securing the wedding. We had to make sure there were no hiccups. Our reputation depended on it. If anyone so much as got through and created a problem, we’d look weak.
“Are we bringing the Bonifacio brother?” I asked, thinking about Chiara. “He’s been locked up for a while now. Maybe it's time we brought him back.”
“Which one?” Savio asked.
“The one that’s alive,” Romeo replied and raised his eyebrows. “There’s only one. Giorgio.”
My father waved his comment off. “Sure. We should have all the remaining Bonifacio’s there. As long as he doesn’t cause us problems. We’ll have him set up at the back of the church, and let Lucia see him after if she wants. She’ll be one of us by that point.”
I was glad to hear him say that. I knew that Chiara would want to see her brother, but there was that impending feeling of nervousness. I still hadn’t broken the news to her and I wasn’t sure if her sisters had. I didn’t want to be the one to tell her about Antonio. She’d hate me and my family even more. The situation was strained enough, and even then, we’d been able to establish a connection with each other.
The news might be the one thing that tipped it over.
I doubted that she would forgive me. She might even think that I’d lied to her out of necessity so that I could manipulate her into getting what I wanted. The thought alone made me feel sick. I had to figure out a way to break the news. Hopefully after the wedding. I’d do it then, and apologize to her. I didn’t want her to see me as just another monster in my family. I had to believe that she would understand after so much had happened.
“Well, I guess that’s it for now,” my father said and hiccuped. “Any other questions?”
He was drunk. It was only the afternoon. I could tell he was stressed, but he only drank heavily during the day when he was feeling some form of nervousness. Whether my father could feel anything but anger was still questionable. But he was capable of feeling pressured. Not because he was worried about us. He was worried about how it made our family look.
My brothers and I remained quiet. We all just wanted it to be over. I hated it. Each family meeting, although starting with legitimate intentions, always ended up in Father yelling at us.
21
Chiara
It felt like a whirlwind had happened in my life. Everyone was busy running around, making sure that things were set for the day. I was silent, sitting on the couch next to Alessandra as Lucia twirled in the mirror, double-checking her makeup and making sure that everything, including her ostentatious jewelry, was perfect.
I couldn’t help but feel bad for the wedding planner, who was busy running from one end of the church to the other, trying to make sure everything was set. Of course, Angelo had chosen the largest church in the city and had made the wedding a huge affair. There were said to be hundreds of people arriving, most of them part of different mafia families, or in some way, part of the criminal underworld. Nothing brought people together quite like a wedding. I just hoped that everything went smoothly.
Weddings were always a huge affair in the criminal underworld. Building ties and uniting families were an event in and of itself. I just wished that my parents were there to enjoy it with us. My sister hadn’t mentioned it, but I know Lucia would have liked to have our father walk her down the aisle. My mother would likely get drunk before the wedding even started, but that was just the kind of behavior that we were used to. It was now something that I missed.
I pushed myself up from the couch and turned to Alessandra, who was fixing her hair. “I’ll be back. Just going to go get a glass of water.”
She nodded in response but was obviously exhausted from the day already. I was glad to be part of the wedding and to see my sister so excited about the nuptials. Still, I couldn’t deny that it was stressful. The days leading up to the wedding had been ridiculously busy, and I couldn’t wait for it to be over.
It felt good to be out of the room. The room led to a long hallway, where the ceiling domed high above, with stained glass windows lining the walls, depicting aspects of the bible in beautiful details. The old wood floor creaked beneath my feet as I made my way down the hallway and towards the main hall. Everything was perfect—flowers lining the aisle, a beautiful carpet beneath, and an altar that most brides would die for.
Angelo Cavetti spared no expense to make sure that his heir had the most lavish wedding his money could buy. I was impressed with the details of the wedding, which had been executed to perfection.
I wondered, then, if I would get married to a Cavetti. I wasn’t sure if anyone in attendance, who weren’t close to the Cavetti’s, knew that we were prisoners. Angelo Cavetti was sure to come up with a plan to make sure we stayed underneath his thumb, never able to retaliate. I also couldn’t deny that I wouldn’t mind being married to Marcello. He was kind, in a way that I never would have suspected. I had learned that he was the kindest amongst his brothers, even though Romeo had changed drastically since we’d first arrived.
