2. Bella

2

BELLA

I zip up my suitcase, nervous and excited. This is it. The day I've been both dreading and anticipating has arrived. In just a few hours, I'll be on my way to New York to marry Don Gino Nardone.

“Bella, are you sure you’ve packed everything you need right away? We won’t be able to ship the rest for a day or two,” my mother asks. She’s all business right now, wanting to ensure I make a good impression on my new family instead of thinking about sending her daughter away.

“Yes.” My gaze sweeps over the boxes of my items that will be sent to me. “And if not, I can buy it in New York.” I’m excited about the idea of shopping in New York. Chicago is a great city, but New York is… well… New York.

“Can we come visit you?” Sofia, my seventeen-year-old sister, asks.

“I hope so?—”

“Bella will have too much to do to entertain guests,” my mother says, not noticing how her attitude ruins the fun excitement of the moment. For me, it brings a flicker of uncertainty. I know how Mafia families work, but still, I’m hopeful for some freedom to explore New York.

“Will you see the big Christmas tree?” Gianna, my youngest sister, asks.

“I hope so. I don’t know when they put it up.” Except for my sisters, my family isn’t warm and loving like on TV. Even so, I feel a pang of homesickness that I won’t be home for Christmas.

“Sofia and Gianna, leave us so I can talk to Bella in private,” my mom says, shooing my sisters to the door.

“What about Ava?”

I glance at Ava sitting in my window seat. She’s quiet and pensive to the point of looking worried.

“Ava can stay. She’s a grown woman now.”

I sit on the edge of my bed, watching as Sofia and Gianna reluctantly leave the room.

My mother shuts the door and then turns to me with a serious expression. "Bella, we need to talk.” She perches herself next to me.

I brace myself, not sure what’s coming. "Okay."

She takes a deep breath. "You're about to become a wife, and there are… certain duties that come with that role."

I nod, trying to keep a neutral expression, even though I realize where this is going.

"Being with a man, it's… well, it's not always pleasant," Mama continues, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Sometimes, it can be quite… distasteful."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I glance at Ava thinking we’ll exchange humorous looks, but she’s still looking worried.

“I know about?—”

"No, let me finish," my mom interrupts. "It's important that you understand. Sex is… it's a chore, Bella. Something we endure for our husbands. But it's necessary, for children and to keep the peace in the home."

I want to tell her I'm not as naive as she thinks. No, I haven’t had sex. It’s part of what makes me so valuable to my father’s business deal with Don Nardone. But I’m aware of it and how it works.

"I suggest that you lie back and think of something else," Mama advises, patting my hand. "It'll be over before you know it."

“I know about the birds and bees,” I say.

She looks startled, then a little sad. "Of course. I just… I want you to be prepared." She rises, looking regal and at the same time small. I sometimes wonder what she was like before she married my domineering father. Was her subservience a part of her makeup, or had it been beaten and berated into place by my father?

“I’ll let your father know you’re ready,” she says, and then she exits my room.

“Is that what you do with Matteo? Lie back and think of something else?” I know she doesn’t. She loves Matteo and I’ve seen the way he looks at her. He loves her too.

It’s the first time since she arrived to see me off that she gives a small smile. “No.” She rises and comes to sit with me on the bed. When you're with someone you love, it changes everything. It's beautiful, passionate, pleasurable… nothing like what Mama described."

For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to have a husband like Matteo. Someone closer to my age, handsome, and clearly in love with his wife. But I quickly push the thought away. My situation is different, and there's no use in dwelling on what can't be.

I accepted my lot in life a long time ago. But that doesn’t mean I don’t do what I can to find joy and fun, sometimes pushing the envelope to do so. I’m not so daring as to sneak out of the house like my sister Ava was when she was my age. But neither am I a passive, timid flower like my mother.

Ava takes my hand. “But Bella, I don't think Don Gino is going to be like Matteo."

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m scared for you,” she admits. “The things I’ve heard about him. His past wives… his proclivities.”

I’ve heard them too, and they make my stomach turn over. But it’s all just rumors, right?

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the fear knotting in my stomach.

"Ava, come on," I say, keeping my voice light. "You can't believe everything you hear. People love to gossip, especially about powerful men like Don Nardone."

She frowns, unconvinced. "Bella?—”

I cut her off with a wave of my hand. "People say similar things about Father. They think he has a dungeon in the basement. You and I both know that’s not true. People exaggerate. They make up wild stories because the truth isn't exciting enough."

I stand up, moving to my vanity to check my makeup. In the mirror, I can see Ava's worried expression, so I turn back to face her.

“Don’t underestimate Father.” I hear bitterness in her voice. “When he found me at Matteo’s after I ran away… he put a gun to my head.”

I stare at her in disbelief. My father is a vile man, but to threaten to kill his daughter? The raw pain in Ava's eyes tells me she's not lying.

I suck in a breath. "Look, I'm not na?ve. I know this isn’t going to be some fairy tale like you have with Matteo. But as long as I play my part, be a good wife, run the household, attend to his needs, I'll be fine. It's a business arrangement, after all. We both have our roles to play."

Ava sighs, clearly not convinced. "His reputation is worse?—”

“His reputation is just that. You don’t know him.” I silently repeat my mantra. I am tough. I can handle this. It's just another performance. Smile, nod, say the right things . How different can being Don Nardone’s wife really be?

Her expression suggests she thinks I am being na?ve.

“How bad can he be now?” I snap. “He’s old… like seventy.” I’m hoping he’s infirm so I don’t have to endure any of the abuse I’ve heard, or the intimate bits my mother told me to bear.

She reaches into her purse. “I hope you’re right, but just in case.” She hands me a small, nondescript phone. It's nothing like my sleek smartphone, just a basic flip model with chunky buttons.

"Take this. It's untraceable. If you ever need help, if things get bad, call me. I'll come for you, no matter what."

My throat tightens. Suddenly, this all feels too real. "Ava, I?—"

"Promise me you'll keep it hidden," she interrupts, her voice urgent. "Don't let anyone find it. Not Papa, not Don Nardone, no one."

I nod, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and defiance. This little phone represents a lifeline, yes, but also an act of rebellion against the life that's been planned for me.

"I promise.” I open my suitcase and tuck the phone into the lining.

Ava pulls me into a tight hug. "I love you, Bella. Stay safe."

I hug her back, blinking away tears. "I love you too. Thank you."

A knock sounds on my door.

“Come in,” I call out.

George, one of my father's men, opens it. “Your father is ready for you.” He looks at my suitcase. “Is this coming with you?”

I nod.

He picks it up and heads out the door.

“I guess this is it,” I say to Ava.

I hate how terrified she looks for me.

“Have Matteo bring you to New York. We’ll buy out the town.”

She manages a smile.

I head out the door, and down the stairs to my father’s office. This is it. The start of my new life. I hesitate for a moment. I know all the stories about Don Nardone. The dead wives. The missing one. His rumored perversion. I’ve been telling myself they’re exaggerations, but what if they’re not?

Ava’s hand rests on my shoulder. “Just call, and I’ll find a way to get you.”

I nod, but my fear is getting the best of me. I have a moment to resent Ava for putting me in this situation. After all, she was supposed to be the one marrying Don Nardone. She broke the rules and ended up with the love of her life. I’m the one who’s paying for that.

But I quickly let go of my resentment. I can’t blame Ava for seeking love and freedom. I want the same for me and for my sisters. No, my resentment needs to be squarely focused on my father and all these barbaric Mafia jerks.

Squaring my shoulders, I open my father’s office door and step forward into my new life, ready to face whatever awaits me in New York.