Married to the mafia boss Series

Antonio with his connections got the best seamstress to make me a dress that fits my ‘new measurements.’ The dress, at my husband’s request, is light blue and matches my eyes perfectly. Wearing the beautiful dress I thought would make me feel beautiful but it had the opposite effect.

My hair was done in thick loose curls and I had put minimal makeup on-just some mascara, eyeliner, and nude-toned lipstick. Although my hair seemed to work in my favor tonight and is silky soft. And although my face is clear of blemishes and looked nice with the natural look of makeup I went with I still feel horrible.

I feel bloated and disgusting. I knew I shouldn’t have ate all the junk or sat on the couch for days on end without giving myself an ounce of exercise. I make a promise to myself that I’ll have Carmelo take me to the gym frequently. Maybe it’s what I need to feel better and get myself out the depression funk I seem to be sinking deeper into.

Arabella’s family’s home is magnificent. It isn’t in the city but just right outside. It is a large plot of land that the mansion rests right in the middle of. The inside was of marble and granite and the walls covered in expensive paintings by famous artists and vases crafted in European countries and exported here.

Being here also rung the question of, why doesn’t Arabella live in the house anymore?

Of course she married Vinny and moved out, but why didn’t she move back in. Not that I’m complaining about her presence in my penthouse, but I wonder why she lives with her cousin.

My arm is are locked with Antonio’s as we are greeted by various differently families and names of people I can’t and probably won’t remember after this is over. Something inside me blooms with satisfaction of being so close to Antonio, but my heart sinks because I know this is just for show. He holds me like a trophy and heads warning that if his trophy-his property-are touched, then you will be thrown to the wolves.

We all socialize in the living room and foyer as the mansion fills with all kinds of members from the Famiglia. I spot Angelo talking to Luca, as always they are arguing about something. Angelo looks distressed as Luca keeps a calm and cool composure shrugging at whatever Angelo said.

My eyes scatter across the room trying to find Arabella. It takes me a while because she seems to have wedged herself in the corner and has blended in to avoid attention. Tears are streaming down her face and I realize that this morning and right now have been one of maybe the only times I’ve seen her so scared and distressed. She was upset when Antonio and Rocco announced she was going to be married to him, but not to this extent. The fearsome aura radiating off of her is so strong that it makes even myself sick with nausea. She’s always put on a strong front for me and before my marriage to Antonio when I was scared she was always there to comfort me.

I wish I could comfort her, while Antonio is a cruel man, he is also a man who is considerate toward me and may have buried feelings. Luca will not be considerate to a wife, he will take what he pleases like a toy he desires and will break it in no time and only after it is broken will he throw it away. He will enjoy breaking whatever sanity that remains in Arabella after he has thoroughly destroyed her. I’ve seen it before, I’ve seen it in my mother after my father countless beat her both physically and mentally.

I wish I could comfort her but I know my brother and there’s no escape from his claws.

My second glass of champagne leaves me feeling ill. After thinking of Luca and how he’ll treat Arabella it leaves a sour taste I cannot get out of my mouth. My stomach churns with disgust and guilt that I can’t do more for my friend. I excuse myself from Antonio and one of his uncles we are talking to, to find a bathroom.

I find one next to the kitchen. It’s quaint, but still bigger than a normal person would have in their house. There’s no shower or tub, but only a toilet and double sink. I crouch down over the bowl and spew the remnants of what I had for lunch earlier along with my champagne.

After my stomach settles and I freshen myself up a bit by pressing cold water to my cheeks and neck, I walk out of the bathroom and head back to the party. Someone grabs my wrists and yanks me back into them. I yelp, but don’t scream when I see my captor. Antonio.

“Where have you been?”

“In the bathroom.”

“You missed the announcement,” he grumbles.

I frown. “I’m sorry. I’m not feeling too well.”

He analyzes me. “You are looking pale. Maybe I should take you home. Or to a doctor.”

“I don’t need a doctor. It’s just… revulsion,” I curl my lip in disgust. “It’s not fair that she has to marry him.”

“It is what it is. Arabella knows her place and understands that this is benefitting the Famiglia. She’ll get over it.”

I clench my fist. “Get over it? You think she’ll get over being abused for years?! He won’t stop, he’ll treat her crap until the day he dies or worse until the day he kills her.”

Antonio’s expression goes dark and unreadable. I can tell he’s mad by his pursed lips, but the look in his eyes, I don’t know. I don’t want to know. “Come on, I’ll take you home. You aren’t feeling well.”

He explains to the guest that we have to leave, a few of them-mainly his uncles-think me being sick is codeword for we’re leaving so we can have sex. That is the very polar opposite of what is going to happen tonight. That thought alone makes me sigh.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have left,” I think of Arabella. “She didn’t seem comfortable at the party and was avoiding everyone.”

“So what. Lots of people try to avoid social gatherings. I know I would if I could,” he shrugs.

“It’s not that, she loves parties and talking to people. Arabella is so bubbly and full of life and he… he sucks it out of her like a leech.”

Antonio doesn’t say anything after that and I wonder if it’s because secretly he agrees with me-that Arabella and Luca should not be married. Antonio as Capo can’t put his feelings before business though. Even if he felt an ounce of uncertainty about the marriage he wouldn’t call it off because the Famiglia comes first and the marriage is a business deal-a benefit.

***

Arabella never returned that night and I tried not to overthink it when nightmares kept me up. She might have just stayed at her parents mansion and she’s completely okay. I wondered if Luca was with her, it’s improper for an unmarried woman and a man to be in the same room alone. Our traditions don’t allow it, but Luca is a powerful man and he might have used his power against her parents’ wishes and tradition to spend the night with her.

The elevator opens downstairs at breakfast and Arabella enters looking exhausted and…

I notice bruises on her wrists and rush toward her. Up close I notice makeup on her face poorly covering up a black bruise under her eye.

“What did he do to you?” I spit disgusted.

Carmelo and Antonio stand from their seats in the kitchen and walk into the living area where Arabella and I are standing.NôvelDrama.Org holds this content.

Her eyes look bloodshot as if she’s been crying all night. “The wedding is in four weeks. I thought since I went with you wedding dress shopping, you could come with me?” Her voice waivers. She tries her best to cover up her fear but it’s not working.

“We have to call this marriage off!” I shout.

“Liliana,” Antonio says in a warning tone. “I told you, we are not calling the wedding off. It’ll start a war.”

“But he bea-”

Arabella grabs my arm cutting me off. “It’s okay, really. I’m just feeling a little down in the dumps. It’s got nothing to do with Luca.” She’s lying. She’s lying and putting on a false facade for my benefit I know it. “I think wedding dress shopping will be fun. I never did like the dress I wore at mine and Vinny’s wedding.” Her eyes water as she speaks her first husband’s name.

“Arabella,” I frown.

She shakes her head. “No, no. I’m fine. I would like some breakfast though. I’m starving.” She floats passed us, her face left unemotional and her eyes haunted with whatever happened last night.

I look toward Antonio and Carmelo. If I had to guess by the expression on my bodyguard’s face, I’d say he’s pretty pissed about what happened too. As for my husband, he wears the same stoic mask leaving his feelings and stance on the situation aloof.

We go to the exact wedding dress shop where I got my dress. Maria is at the store and claps her hands together when she sees the two of us.

“Bambina,” she cries out and hugs Arabella. “You are getting married or are you just visiting little old me?”

“Getting married,” Arabella tries her best to put on one of her famous smiles, but it is easy to see through.

“He must be a lucky man to have someone like you,” Maria grabs her chin and gives her an endearing look. The seamstress and owner of the wedding shop turns to me and smiles. “Liliana, has our Capo been treating you right? You look positively glowing.”

“I guess as right as a Capo can treat a woman,” I swallow hard.

“Come, let’s look for our dear Bella’s dress,” she leads us over to rack of expensive white dresses made with material imported from Italy.

Arabella’s eyes momentarily light up and then she frowns. “Uhm, do you have anything off white? I’m not exactly fit to wear a pure white dress when this is my second wedding.” The words didn’t seem like hers as if she was reading off a script.

Or remembering someone else’s words.

I gasp. “Is that what Luca told you?”

She gives me a wary look but doesn’t confirm or deny anything. “I think off white would be best for this wedding.”

“Of course my dear, I have some over here.”

We follow Maria but it seems as though Arabella’s heart is no longer in it. She continues to eye this one beautiful white dress with a lacy design, long train, and a sweetheart neckline.

“Why don’t you get that one?” I say softly.

“I couldn’t,” she shakes her head adamantly. “Off white.”

“Maria,” I call to her. “Is there any chance you could make this dress with off white material?”

“When is the wedding?” She cocks her head.

“Four weeks,” I say and wince knowing that is not enough time.

“Four weeks?!” Maria shouts and we both look over at Arabella who is on the verge of tears again. “I’ll do it. But I must start right away. Let me take your measurements,” she takes the measuring tape that was wrapped around her neck like scarf, off and begins to jot down Arabella’s sizing. “I will do my best. You will make a beautiful bride,” she kisses both of her cheeks and then shoo’s us away. “Ciao.”

“The dress really is beautiful, I actually kind of like the off white color,” I place my hand on Arabella’s back to comfort her as we walk down the street with Carmelo trailing a foot behind.

“You don’t need to lie to me. Everyone loves a bride in white. Off white just looks… dirty-tainted.”

“Is that what he called you? Arabella you aren’t dirty! You aren’t tainted either!” I stop in my tracks and stomp my foot at the outrageous accusation.

She shakes her head and sniffles. “No, he’s right. Men like Luca expect a prize on their wedding night. Virginity-it’s what they all look forward to and I lost mine with Vinny. I’m his defective bride. I’m no prize,” she shies away and it infuriates me because she’s never once been self-conscious since the moment I met her.

Carmelo lets out a low growl. “That man is a bastard. You most certainly are a prize. Virginity is a meaningless onetime thing. I know I would rather want my first time with my new bride to be pleasurable rather than painful.”

Her cheeks blush slightly but she continues to stare at the ground instead of meeting his eyes. “Thanks, Carmelo. It doesn’t matter anyways.”

“Of course it matters! He’s making you believe something that isn’t true. You are not dirty and I’m sure your first time together he’ll be too engrossed in his own pleasure to even remember that you have had sex before,” I argue.

“Don’t you see?! He was so made that he wasn’t the first to have me and he thinks that because I’ve had sex before I’m robbing him of a tight virgin. He-he said he wanted to ‘test drive’ me to make sure I’m good enough to fit his needs in our marriage.”

I blink rapidly at her not being able to comprehend a single word said. “Did he…”

“Like I said if doesn’t matter. Either way I had to give myself to him on our wedding night. Who cares?”

“I care!” I shout. “H-he took you without permission. He did something he wasn’t supposed to do!”

“He’s my fiancé! He said that I belong to him and he can do whatever he wants. There’s nothing you can do. You can tell Antonio all you want but he will say the same thing-the wedding is in four weeks so it really doesn’t matter. Do you want to know why it doesn’t matter because virginity is saved for the wedding night and I do not have mine so it didn’t matter that he took me last night!” She sobs.

“This isn’t right,” Carmelo’s eyebrows are knit together in frustration and anger. His voice is low and lethal. “I want to kill him.”

“Carmelo don’t say such things, if Antonio or Luca found out you said something like that they would kill you or you’d be demoted,” Arabella places her hand on his bicep to calm him.

Carmelo grumbles and curses under his breath. Since my engagement it seems to have just been the three of us going places and from that we have built a friendship. Even though he’s my bodyguard I have come to trust and care for him. I tell him things and he’s able to say certain things without fear that I would tell my husband or brother. Carmelo and I have developed trust and him and Arabella have also seemed to build another aspect of their relationship together.

It won’t be a trio anymore when Arabella leaves, it’ll be just Carmelo and I and as much as I care for him-he’s no Arabella and he’s also a man of very few words. Not exactly the best for conversation and gossiping. But I know I can always count on him to sit in the living room and enjoy a marathon of my favorite shows and movies.

Still, things won’t be the same and my heart aches at the thought of losing my best friend. My family and New York has taken so much from me and it seems they will continue to take from me until I have nothing left. Even now when I try to build ties to my family like calling my mother-she refuses to speak to me.

***

The toilet bowl has been my companion tonight as I throw up the lasagna dinner I had earlier. It’s the thought of Arabella and Luca that is churning my stomach viciously. The bruises on her skin, the fear in her eyes-I would give anything to stop this wedding for her sake. I hate that she tries to make me believe things are alright and that Luca had any right to taking her before her wedding.

Antonio walks in and holds my hair back, “Again? We should take you to the doctors, you might have the stomach bug.”

“Yeah and its name is Luca,” I groan and rest my head against the cool tiled wall.

“You have to stop worrying about them. They are not your responsibility,” he shakes his head.

“She told me last night they had sex.”

Antonio sighs. “I guess it really doesn’t matter, she’s not a virgin so-”

“How could you say it doesn’t matter! It doesn’t matter that she wasn’t a virgin he forced her!”

Antonio’s face goes dark. “They are going to get married in four weeks. I’m done having this conversation with you, Liliana. I don’t want to hear a single word about this wedding.”

“But-”

“Am I understood?” His voice booms and he stands tall and menacing over me.

“Anton-”

“I am your Capo and you will listen to me. Now, you are making yourself sick over something you have no control over and I will not have it. Wash yourself up and get some sleep. This conversation is over,” he dismisses me and walks out of the bathroom before I can formulate a response.

I pour cool water over my face and brush my teeth and by the time I exit the bathroom Antonio is sitting in his usual chair, sipping his usual drink. I walk over to my side of the bed and crawl in. I debate on picking up the book at my bedside and finishing it, but my mind isn’t in the right place despite desperately trying to focus on something other than what Arabella told me earlier.

Laying in my warm cloud-like bed, I close my eyes and focus on my breathing calming my racing mind and butterfly filled stomach.

Antonio notices my presence and downs his drink. He places the glass on the table and walks over to his wardrobe to change into the black sweatpants he wears to bed. He strides over to his side and all I notice is his muscled chest, him sleeping shirtless is a tease. I don’t normally fall asleep with him beside me nor do I normally wake up with him at my side. My eyes scan the tattoos painted on his arms and I marvel at the colorful art.

He slides under the covers and stares at me for a moment before saying, “Are you okay now?”

I sigh. “I don’t know,” my stomach still does feel queasy.

“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up?”

“I don’t think so.” At least not right now as my focus has shifted from the wedding to my husband. I wish he could see how much I need him. How much I want to talk and confide in him like I would any friend. I want him to act like a husband and comfort me and tell me everything’s going to be okay. Like always, he has to play the Capo card and let his feelings go cold.

“Tomorrow I’ll have Louisa make you some ginger tea if you still aren’t feeling well. If it persists, I’m taking you to the doctors.”

“I’m telling you it’s just-”

Antonio shakes his head once more and closes his eyes in frustration. “What did I say? I don’t want to hear a word about it. Now, shut off your light and get some sleep.”

I nervously pick at my fingernails. “Will you be home tomorrow?” I say in a soft voice.

Antonio turns off his bedside lamp and lays down on his pillow. “No. I have work to do. If you need anything have Carmelo contact me.”

And like always we are strangers sharing a bed. I yearn to lean over and sneak a kiss or to run my hands down his chest. I long to be in his strong arms as he rocks and cuddles me to sleep. I want a companion, I want intimacy.

I want love.