I stare at them as I have so many times, and my heart hardens again, just as my resolve strengthens.
"You will pay. For every single betrayal. For every single time you wronged me. You will pay, Enzo Agosti. That, Ivow.”
You stole everything from me: my present, past, and future. You stolemy child. For that alone, I canneverforgive you.
Next time we meet… it will beyourfuneral.
PART I
BEFORE
1
ALLEGRA
Nine Years Ago
"But Miss,"Cecilia, my governess, exclaims, following me around as I rummage through my cousin's closet.
"You can't talk me out of this, Lia. I'm doing it," I say as I grab a pair of pants that look like they might fit, considering my cousin is four years younger than me and hasn't completely gone through puberty yet.
"But Miss," she starts, her lip trembling slightly, "your wedding is in two weeks. What if something happens?" I stifle the urge to roll my eyes at the mention of my upcoming nuptials.
"Nothing will happen. I've thought about everything. I will be gone for justoneday, and I'll be back before midnight."
"If your parents find out…" She shakes her head, already imagining the worst.
"They won't unless you tell them." Hands on my hips, I turn to her. "They are still in America, and chances are they willonlycome back right before the wedding." I arch an eyebrow, waitingfor her to contradict me. Lia knows my parents couldn't care less about me—they have my sister for that.
"What if Signor Franzè finds out?" I take a deep breath, annoyed at the mere mention of his name.
Achille Franzè is my soon-to-be husband andcapo criminiof the Calabria 'Ndrangheta. A couple decades my senior, he's been my fiancé for the past five years. I've only met the man twice, though, and both times I'd been petrified of him. But my parents have been looking forward to this alliance so much that the wedding is to take place the day I turn eighteen—two weeks from now.
When the contract had been signed, the choice had been between my sister and me. Achille had been ambivalent; in his eyes, any young, virginal bride would do. My parents, however, had seen an opening to get rid of me and save their precious daughter. They know that no happiness awaits me after the vows are spoken.
I may dread my future, but I'm also smart enough to know there is no way out. So many nights I'd made plans—how to run away, get a new identity, and live happily ever after. But those thoughts are reserved for when I go to sleep, when I can imagine myself living an entirely different life. The moment I defy my parents or Achille, I'm dead.
I know it, and so does Lia, which is why she's so worried about me. I'm resigned to my fate, but I'm still a little selfish. I want one memory for myself—just one to keep me warm for the rest of my life.
I've never left my village, I've barely had access to technology, and I've never even eaten good food, let alone enough. I've simply known nothing but this bleak mansion that holds both my dearest memories and my deepest fears. Is it so bad to want to experience something else just for one day?
Growing up, books were my only solace. There are only afew Italian titles in the library, all designed to stifle my knowledge and keep me in an ignorant bubble—to convert me into the perfect, idiotic bride. Most of the books are in English, Spanish, or French. But my parents didn't count on one thing—my desperation.
By chance, a duplicate title was available in both Italian and English, so I pored over those letters for days, months, and years on end, comparing words and sentence structures until I learned the language. With difficulty, I switched to other English titles, but the more I immersed myself in this new tongue, the more familiar I became with it. And a new world opened up.
I read about Paris and New York, about fashion and exotic food, about art and history. These were things I knew to be forbidden, yet they delighted me more than anything. Most of all, they showed me how people whoarefree live. And I became greedy.
The closer my wedding approached, the more restless I became, thinking about the unknown: about the paintings I'd never see, the chocolate I'd never taste, or the music I'd never hear. That curiosity grew to such a crescendo that I finally cracked. I studied every single map available and calculated distances and times, all toward one goal: to live, if only for a day.
"He won't. He can't. I've been planning this foroneyear, Lia. I have the maps memorized; I know the roads inside and out. I can do this. I'll just go to the city early in the morning and come back before midnight."
Milena, the village I was born in and never left, is a couple hours away from Agrigento, formerly one of the largest cities in Ancient Greece—and the home of countless ruins, museums, and restaurants. A short distance away from the sea, Agrigento will cover most of the items on my bucket list.
"But the guards…" Lia shakes her head. I get where she's coming from. She knows the risk I'm taking, but I find myself increasingly reckless just for that one taste of freedom.
"They'll think I'm sick. They won't know I'm gone." Dressed as a boy, I'd exit the house at dawn and ride my bike the whole distance to Agrigento. "Come on, Lia. You know how important this is to me," I add in a pleading tone, trying to sweeten her up. She's been more of a mother to me than my own.
"Won't you get tired? Two hours of riding your bike is a lot when you've never done that before." She purses her lips.
