“You certainly do. Please, just promise me you won’t lose yourself? Here amongst the ‘family’ men. I know you’re strong, but don’t lose the love you still have in your heart to power and success.”
I pout my lips slightly and take his hands. “Of course not, Papa. I will always have love in my heart for you, for my new family, and for all the innocent people in this city. And I promise I will always be true to myself.”
“Good.” He smiles, patting my hand. “Now, I think you owe a very lucky man a first dance.”
* * *
Later in the evening,everyone’s finished their meals and are mingling happily. Antonio sits with Vinnie, the two sharing a drink, and when I think about joining them, Fiona catches my eye. She’s all alone in the back of the tent, looking depressed, to be honest. Maybe a mixture of anger and sadness on her face. It’s unusual to see a young, beautiful teenager have so much sorrow on her shoulders.
Over the past six months, we’ve become closer. I’ve accompanied her on shopping sprees, talked her down from punching more of her bodyguards, taught her how to cook my grandmother’s chicken cacciatore. We even started a weekly session of watching romantic drama series together in her room and throwing things at Antonio when he interrupts and we miss something the couple said. It’s been a whole new experience for me, and I’ve never felt closer to another girl before.
The bottles of wine are placed next to the bouquet of flowers in the center of the table, of which one open bottle of red lingers close to Fiona’s glass, the bottle already half drunk. I have to hand it to her, she’s a knock-out in her magenta colored, full length satin dress with a long slit up her leg. Her hair has always been marvelously long, but it turns heads tonight as it’s been straightened and falls past her buttocks. She flicks the strands over her shoulder when I approach her.
“Why are you here all alone?” I ask, taking the seat next to her with my back to the party.
“All these people,” she tells me as she lights a cigarette. “They’re considered family, but none are friends. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t born into this life. Not that I don’t love my family, my brothers, but trust me, Mia, all these men who think they’re being so clever with their deals and promises, are nothing more than fragile little boys, each one trying to be their best to win their stupid games.”
I chuckle, mainly because I can see where she’s coming from. I wonder what it would look like if women ran the show. Probably would be a lot different.
“And I love Antonio, he’s always had an eye for my best interests, but Mia, be careful.” She lifts her eyes to mine, almost pleading. “Being married to the don of a family, you have to be prepared to come second. Business always comes first. You have to know that.” She grabs my hand with hers and squeezes. “Not everyone can handle such a thing—my mother, for instance, rest her soul, she struggled with it, this life.”
“I’ve heard…Antonio told me about her. But, he also said that she was the strongest woman he’d ever known. That while she struggled, she persevered and made her place in the family. She didn’t take shit from your dad, apparently.” Fiona laughs at this, flicking her cigarette at the ashtray. “I hope to live up to her image. To break through the barriers set by these men,” I wave a hand over my shoulder, keeping my eyes on her. “So this can be a happier, less violent house to live in.”
Fiona shrugs, giving up on trying to convince me. She takes deep drags of her smoke. “I appreciate that…though it won’t stop them from controlling my life.”
“You mean your arranged marriage?”
She looks at me. “He told you then?”
“Yes… Alfonso Rossi is here, talking about ties between our families.”
She rolls her eyes. “Great. My future father-in-law, political as always.”
I laugh aloud but brush her silky hair back as it slips over her shoulder again, then squeeze her arm reassuringly.
“Look… Marrying for convenience has its perks. You’d be living a life free from the burdens of an average society’s rules. You’d be a queen, just like I am today. It opens up a world of opportunities. You can make a difference.”
“Yeah, maybe for you, but I won’t have love to keep me warm through the night. At least you and Antonio married for love.” Fiona looks down with a blank face, then tightens it, shows me a smile. “Speaking of, today we’re here to celebrate your wedding.”
Shaking her melancholy off, she takes an empty glass from the table and fills it with wine, handing it to me. “Here’s to a new sister.”
“To a new sister,” I repeat, grinning from ear to ear. While she still has a lot to go through in her life, I’m truly happy to have her in mine—the sister I never had. The female opinion I never had access to, until now. When she helped me with my makeup that first time we met, it was one of the most fun encounters I’ve had with any other girl. I’m excited to have her by my side in this household, and I’m excited to be by her side, to comfort her and support her as she goes through the difficult times ahead.
* * *
Clink, clink, clink. Wide-eyed with eager smiles, our guests chant for us to dance. I see my father seated in a corner, raising his glass to me with a smile. That’s all I need, and I turn to my husband.
Antonio and I meet in the middle of the tent where a dance floor has been set up. A slow, emotional tune starts to play, and he reaches for my hand, swirls me around the floor and finally pulls my body against his. Until now, the only rhythm I’ve seen from Antonio is in the way we’ve grinded ourselves against each other in the bedroom. To my surprise, his movements are elegant and perfectly timed to the music. He leads me, circling the dance floor back and forth, holding me with just the right amount of strength, the amount needed to guide and caress, but not overpower. I almost forget the surrounding crowd, until, that is, all hell breaks loose.
“To the happy couple—see you in hell!” Someone shouts as a small white box comes flying our way, landing in front of us. Antonio and I break apart and watch the back of a man in a waiter’s uniform as he sprints into the dark forestry that surrounds the edge of the property. The place goes into an uproar; everybody heard the threatening message. Vinnie shouts for the men to follow as he sprints after the guy, his pistol already in his hands.
Antonio lets him deal with the guy, while he deals with the mysterious white parcel.
“Get back! Everybody, stay back.” He holds an arm securely around my waist and walks me out onto the lawn, with my dress gathered up in my hand. Everyone follows, some running frantically while others crane their necks to get a peek at the offending gift.
The box, now the single thing on the dance floor, appears to be a white cake box, tied with a ribbon. Of course, the biggest fear is that it’s a bomb. Some older guests are talking loudly back and forth about which rival family it might be from, each with contradictory information as to how the guy could have snuck into the wedding, past the background and security checks that all staff are subjected to. One of Antonio’s men comes walking out of the darkness, panting from exertion.
“They got him, boss.”