She looks past me, and I realize that Andreas is coming down the hallway toward us, his clothes rumpled and his face red with anger. With her hand on my shoulder, she asks him, “Did you do this to my daughter?”
Andreas glares at me as I try to stop crying. Every breath is painful. I wish Damiano would come back. I need Damiano.
When she doesn’t get any reply, Mom raises her voice and calls. “Carlucci, come up here, please.”
But Dad is already at the top of the stairs. When he sees that I’m nearly naked, he frowns in disapproval. Ashamed, even though none of this is my fault, I cover my breasts with my arms and wish that I could sink through the floor and disappear.
“What is going on up here?” he asks, his voice ringing with authority.
Speaking quickly as though he’s anxious to deflect blame, Andreas accuses, “Lucy was wearing her bridal lingerie for her brother. They were practically screwing. You’re trying to marry off a defective woman. You promised me a virgin.”
Promised him a virgin? They’ve all been talking about me like I’m livestock.
Dad’s severe expression doesn’t change as he glances at me and then Mom. “I’m ashamed to admit my youngest daughter can sometimes be disobedient and provocative. But that is all it is. Provocation. Marriage to a strong and steady man like you is all she needs to settle down.”
Andreas stands up straighter hearing Dad take his side.
“Dad, he tried to rape me,” I cry.
“Lucy, be quiet,” he snaps. Mom’s nails dig into my shoulder, reminding me what will happen if Andreas rejects me.
“Maybe I was too forceful,” Andreas says, with a guilty glance at me. “But a husband has to be able to correct his wife.”
“You are absolutely right, Andreas,” Mom agrees.
“Mom, please,” I whimper.
“Lucy, you are being dramatic and emotional. You were mistaken about your fiancé’s intentions, just as he was mistaken when he saw you and Damiano talking in your bedroom.” Mom glances at Andreas. “Weren’t you, Andreas? Isn’t this all just a misunderstanding?”
I look to Dad for help, but his expression is closed, and he won’t meet my eyes. Of course they don’t care if Andreas tried to rape me. Dad’s men will be eager to do the same thing if they’re given the order.
“Maybe you’re right,” Andreas says finally.
Mom smiles placatingly. “We all need a little time to cool off. Tomorrow Lucy will apologize to Andreas for all this upset, and we will continue with planning your wedding.”
“If she’s sincere in her apology,” Andreas says.
“She will be. Won’t you, Lucy?” Mom prompts.
My near nakedness is making me shiver from cold and humiliation. Apologize for nearly being raped? They want me to put on a sweet smile for Andreas and beg him to forgive me for not letting him painfully and violently force himself on me.
From the vile, gloating expression on Andreas’s face, my parents taking his side has thrilled him. After we’re married, he’ll force me to perform my wifely duty, and no doubt he’ll make it as horrible for me as he possibly can. If I complain to Mom and Dad about it, my cries will fall on deaf ears. The gun hidden in my wardrobe is seeming more enticing than ever.
But why should I and Damiano be the only ones to suffer?
A new idea is forming in my mind. A better one than a swift bullet of self-obliteration, or even of retaliation. I can have revenge.
Beautiful, devastating revenge.
At the wedding, in front of everyone—Montonis, Barones, all of Malus—I’ll expose him. I’ll show everyone what he really is. Atraitor. A spy. A violent predator who tried to rape me in my own home.
But first I have to convince everyone they’ve broken me.
I turn my face upward to Andreas and beseech him like a broken Lucy would. The Lucy who huddled in misery in the dirt because she was abandoned like a stray dog at ten years old.
“Of course I will apologize. I will be the bride you’ve always wanted, Andreas. I promise.”
He smiles, victorious. He thinks he’s won. He thinks he’s broken me.
