“There you are, Elenora.” She kissed my cheeks and stepped back to admire my outfit. “I guess this will do.”
“Do?” I moved to the sink to pour some water into the vase then began to place the stems neatly inside. “What is this all about, anyway?”
“Your father is entertaining some work friends tonight, and we needed you here.”
“Oh, is it the gentlemen from the United States?” I knew Papa had made a huge deal with some American who was looking to expand over here.
“No.” She turned on her heel and left me in the kitchen wondering why she was being so vague.
“Hang on. Where is Angelo?” I followed her out to the dining room. “Shouldn’t he be here, too?”
“Um,” she pretended to fluff the pillow, “he’ll be here later.”
That should have been the red flag. Papa always made sure Angelo was at all the meet and greets.
“Mama?” Just as I said her name, the doorbell rang, and my life as I knew it was about to change forever.
“Please, come in.” Papa waved in the guests, and my knees nearly buckled beneath me. “Theodore, this is my daughter Elenora.”
“Lovely to meet you.” He extended his hand, and I looked at it in confusion. That was the very same hand that had rested on Noemi’s hip not a week ago. Those were the same lips that had brushed her cheek as I sat by my poor brother and wanted to weep. “Or perhaps not.” He rolled his eyes but smiled when my mama came up next to me and jabbed me in the side.
“She can be a little shy at first.”
“I can?” I muttered as my mother gave me a little shake and a frown. Then she stepped forward and led the Don and his wife into another room, leaving me alone with him.
Theodore looked around the living room and seemed unimpressed with the decor.
“It’s polite to offer a guest a drink.” He swung his gaze over to me. “Or are you mute and deaf? Because if that’s the case, maybe this isn’t the worst situation after all.”
That snapped me out of my daze. “I think I’m wondering why you are even here, in my parents’ house.”
“Ah,” he scoffed, “she does speak.”
“And hear too,” I snapped back. “And what is this situation you speak about?”
“Oh,” his eyebrows pinched together, “you don’t know?”
“Know what?” I folded my arms and glared at him.
“You’ve been sold to me. So, that being said, I’ll allow you to call me Theo.”
I didn’t remember much more than that. Dinner was a blur. Mama avoided my line of sight, and Papa was putting on quite the show, acting like a fool, showing off. That night, I was escorted to the bottom of the stairs and was told to pack my things and that I was going to be taken to the Coppola mansion in the morning. One of Theo’s men stayed outside our home.
“I don’t understand.” Francesco had crawled through the window to find out what was going on. He sat on the edge of bed while I sat like stone on the chair. “They can’t just sell you.”
“Apparently, they can and did.”
“You don’t have to go, Elenora.”
“Yes, I do.” I stood, furious at him, furious at Theodore, and even more furious at my parents. “They made it very clear that if I didn’t do as they said that my parents would suffer. Death was an option.”
“But why you? Why not someone with more money or—”
“Run away with me,” I begged and dropped to my knees in front of him, taking his hands. “I’m already packed. We can leave and just find a little place somewhere in the tropics. We could be free of all this.”
“Elenora…” He stopped himself, and I knew what was standing in his way. What was always standing in our way—his precious syndicate. His precious family. “You know I can’t do that. You know I can’t leave my family. Andrea just had her son, and they need me there. It’s where I belong.”
“They’re not your family.” I retracted my hands and stood, feeling lightheaded.