She’ll earn it though. I have my expectations. We all do. In the Rossi family, men are the heads of their houses. And that doesn’t change, no matter who we are.
I stand in the broad overhead lighting of my kitchen and stretch my arms up over my head. It’s the first time I’ve been able to fucking do that. A prison cell is the worst type of punishment for a guy like me, big and tall and bulky. I got almost used to the daily backaches from the confined space and tiny beds.
I’ll sleep like a fucking king tonight in my own bed.
Then I realize, I won’t be alone.
Jesus, Romeo. Didn’t give me a goddamn break. I know time’s of the essence, though.
It feels fucking good to be out of there. I don’t even know what I want to eat first, where I wanna go first, what I wanna do first. But a part of me wonders… Marrying so quickly after getting out of prison, will it be like being back in prison?
As I go through my home, like a stroll with a long-lost friend, I can tell someone’s been here. Fresh bouquets of flowers sit on the kitchen counter, and in the bedroom on the nightstand. Candles are lined up on my dresser, high-end deals that look handmade with varying heights, all cream colored and scented vanilla.
“Marialena?” I ask Romeo. He nods and smiles. He’s always had a soft spot for her. “Of course. Who else?”
Marialena gets very excited about the prospect of a new sister in the family. She’s become best friends with Romeo’s Vittoria, and I have no doubt she’ll try to befriend my new wife as well. While the men of our family rule the house, and handle the expectations of royalty, the women frequently buckle under the pressure of what’s expected of them. Tavi’s betrothed who ended her own life is a testament to this.
They are expected to marry, but never for love. It’s a hard sacrifice to make, but we’re expected to do the same. Not sure it’s any easier for us.
The number one tenet of being a Rossi, as anyone who is raised in the mob knows, is that every life decision must benefit The Family.
As in everything we do, it must strengthen our ties.
Rosa married a man in Tuscany, who cheated on her. She’s now single, with a daughter, and not as eligible to marry as is a single virgin.
That’s one thing I have going for me. Any woman that I marry will be a virgin. Unsullied. I’ll be the first man that ever touches her, if she’s followed The Family’s laws.
Maybe I can make this work. Maybe Romeo isn’t the only Rossi brother that marries for love.
My brothers bring me into the bedroom, where a tux waits.
“Mama will kill you when she finds out.”
He nods. “I can handle Mama.” Yeah, we’ll see about that.
I take a quick shower and enjoy every minute of the luxurious feel of soap on my skin, the hot water I let run and run.
In my mind, I’m still confined in that prison that smells like urine and hatred and despair. I don’t know how long it will take me to forget any of that, or if I ever will.
Someone knocks on the door. I’ve been in here so long, my fingers are like raisins.
“Yeah?”
“Father Richard’s here, man.” Mario.
I close my eyes and let the steaming hot water pelt against my face.
“On my way.”
CHAPTER 4
“It is too hard a knot for me t'untie.” ~Twelfth Night, Shakespeare
“Elise”
Elise and I texted the entire flight. We didn’t get into details about location or anything that might give either of us away if our phones were hacked, which they probably are. Her bodyguard kept her safe, bringing her all the way to the Switzerland border by car, and now here I am. God, I have no idea what will happen next, but I owe this to her. I can do this.
I’m so pumped on adrenaline I can hardly think straight. The pilot and flight attendant don’t bat an eye when they see me. Either I look enough like Elise to pull off the ruse, or they just don’t care.
“Get me a seltzer water. Please,” I tack on as an afterthought. Elise can be bossy when it comes to hired help.
“Of course, Miss.” The flight attendant gives me a tall glass with ice and a wedge of lime. “Just as you like it.”
Is that a knowing look in her eye, or is that my imagination? I’m so nervous I can hardly swallow it, but I sit up straight and merely nod my thanks.
“How soon until we land?”
“Just under an hour.” She smiles politely. I remember what Piero said about feigning “a crash or something.” Now that I’m actually facing the possibility of a crash, I feel suddenly nauseous.