I’m undecided on where my future will be. Going home the victor or striking out on my own with Sofia.
For now, I’m just happy to be out of my family's town. But if I’m gone too long, the Calabreses’ will come to their own conclusions and depending on what that is dictates whether I live or die.
The gala is an extremely public event and security nowadays relies on the electronic wands to catch everything. I could strap a gun made of plastic to my leg the night of the masked ball. Or better yet,I will leave a gun at the event location beforehand. Everyone has watchedThe Godfathermovie and knows to hide a gun beforehand, what else is the back of a toilet good for?
I will show everyone that I’m not to be fucked with and that you never say no to Gio Conti’s daughter. I will never willingly enter an arranged marriage or be with a man in the mafia.
Fuck that.
I’ve beenin Florence for a week now and as I’m going after Sal, if I get caught, it carries a less formal punishment than killing a don, but I’m pissed as hell that Dante has gotten away with murdering my father. An inconclusive police report, my ass. I want to know how much he had to pay the commissioner in Milan for that. Why Daddy went there just to settle a score older than me is a question I’ll never have an answer for because I don’t trust my brothers' lame stories.
After scoping out everything and planning exit strategies for the gala beforehand, it’s finally here. My evening is long. My plan is to park near the Uffizi, then walk the short distance to the event. I’m dressed to kill but it’s not just sexy, it’s also practical.
An almost skin-tight black dress is not as flowing as other young ladies and I wear a cover designed to tear away in case I need to use my combat moves. I chose black for this occasion so I can blend in with the night.
I put my make up on with care and make sure my mask is tied securely so it won’t go anywhere. The hotel doesn’t have that many cameras but why take unnecessary risks?
My hair is styled in an updo. I had it bleached at the salon to match my new ID. I wore a wig for the pictures on it as I couldn’t be blonde at home.
Today, I had my hair coiffed at the salon and they did a great job, the only difference is I replaced the metal clip with a large decorative pin laced with poison in case I get into trouble.
I finish dressing, sliding on my three-inch heels. I have developed my legs and can walk miles in any shoe. I have an escape route planned and will escape to my car on foot. I have a ceramic knife sheath to my leg just in case. Never hurts to have a backup plan.
I slide behind the steering wheel of my beloved Rolls, inhaling the rich leather interior. It’s the most expensive thing Dad bought me. Then again, my home was extravagant compared to most.
Now that my mother has moved on and the estate has been taken over by Angelo because it’s been modified with secret rooms and such, there’s no better way to continue building the empire.
I drive to the event running potential scenarios through my head. Sal has to be alone to do the deed, obviously. Where and when will that happen? What if I never have the opportunity? I fret over the details I can’t plot and have anxiety as I’m not in control of the surroundings I’m entering. Not a good combat move.
The night air is humid. I have a pocket in my outerwear for my keys, tissues, and a burner phone. I use the white square to blot the sweat off my face as I join the line to enter the gala, having purchased my ticket under an alias.
Upon entering the luxury hotel, I am immediately aware of the energy and excitement as everyone is laughing, talking, and milling about in anticipation of the big gala. Soft music floats over me as the string orchestra plays sitting in an ancient alcove.
Little do they know how eventful tonight will be. Cameras go off before I reach the entrance. I make sure to dodge the limelight and others who are using their phone to video the evening with my mask securely in place.
Bentleys, Rolls Royces . . . you name it, everyone flaunts it tonight—their cars, jewels, and other finery. I can’t say I blame them being a mafia princess. I love the lifestyle too. I realized too late that not having a back-up plan when you were being supported was the biggest mistake of my life.
Many women are wearing the same black and gold mask as mine. I made sure to buy it in a store that sold hundreds so it couldn’t be traced to a special purchase. I’ve watched my share of murder and mystery TV over the years with the seriesElementarybeing my favorite. God love Jonny Lee Miller. Kitty is my role model. The abused, scorned girl gone rogue, a vigilante for justice. Love it.
I find my way to the ballroom where dining tables are lined up as if in a private parade. There are hundreds of people, wealthy people, who can afford the outrageous price of admission. This expense is nothing to them, compared to the cost of maintaining their fancy homes.
I should know. We had an incredible compound, complete with pool, tennis courts, horses, and stables. Dad didn’t earn everything we had. I’m sure he did his share of just taking what he wanted.
The crystal chandeliers are beautiful and for a second, I feel like a princess in a fairytale. Only this is the Micheli territory and if they had a daughter, she would be the belle of this ball.
No expense has been spared tonight. Each table brims with fresh floral arrangement of exotic orchids, baby’s breath, green leaves and white dust to resemble snow as the seasons are all represented in centerpieces. The buffet table is set up with a carving station, a table of side dishes and a dessert table. Large ice sculptures depicting the four seasons statues on the bridge next to the Uffizi grace each of the four large tables of food. It is after all the Four Seasons of Florence Annual Gala.
Photographers dressed in suits abound, flashing their overhead lamps as if Prince William of England was in the room.
There is a line of couples who stand in queue as they wait for their turn to use the requisite photo booth for tiny snapshots that resemble the first Polaroid instant developing pictures that were before my time.
Everyone smiles when they exit the booth whether they are in couples or groups. They are laughing at the funny faces the camera captured for their scrapbook because the memories will fade in a few days' time.
I’ve studied the hotel’s floor plan as well as Dante and Sal’s houses. Now I need to find out where Sal is sitting because those are always the last known bits of necessary information that can’t be acquired beforehand. As luck would have it, I spot him on my way to the check in table.
The tall darker haired man next to him is the incredibly handsome Dante who escorts his mother and what I can only assume is my half-sister.
Her hair is dark like mine and neither of us is exceptionally tall, but I beat her by a few inches. I’m glad I changed my hair color as it would be obvious that we are related if anyone were to catch us standing together.