Sold to Mr. Giordano

Arielle

Antonio and Luca left early in the morning to do business. What kind of business I don’t know, my husband is keeps business away from me telling me not to worry.

Arabella seems off this morning as she mindlessly bites into a piece of toast. She could barely swallow a bite without looking like she is going puke. You’d almost think she’s pregnant, but I think she’s just repulsed.

“What happened?” I ask softly.

“What happens every night. Only this time I couldn’t scream or cry for risk that it would wake the two of you up.” She stares at her plate.

Saying I wish there was something I could do, again seems pointless. There is nothing I can do but be here for her and listen to her sorrow.

“I’m actually glad I’m not bringing a child into this world. Luca would be a terrible father and I don’t want my babies going through what that monster puts me through. Honestly, Ary, you can talk about your pregnancy to me. I’m over the moon excited to be an aunt. I’ll buy the little one so much. They’ll be spoiled with toys and love!”

 I smile as the old Arabella shines through with a genuinely large smile plastered on her face and hope in her eyes.

“You’re definitely going to be the Godmother! Rocco will probably be the Godfather even though I’d personally like Angelo.”

“Angelo can have baby number two.”

I nearly spit out the orange juice I took a sip of. I shake my head. “No baby number two. After this one is born, I’m going on birth control for the rest of my life.”

Arabella rolls her eyes. “Speaking as an only child, it sucks. Little baby Giordano is going to want a sibling.”

“Not gonna happen,” I reply sing-song.

“How is your other brother?”

“Slowly healing.”

She cocks her head. “Healing from what?”

“From the attack. The Bratva took him weeks ago and tortured him. He was in real rough shape.”

Arabella looks speechless with her mouth wide open. “I had no idea!”

“Luca didn’t tell you?” I furrow my eyebrows.

“Luca doesn’t tell me anything. If it’s not about sex, he doesn’t care.”

I cringe, at least Antonio isn’t like that. Although I feared our relationship would only serve as a means to scratch an itch, it’s become more than that. He didn’t want to get too close but he seems to open up more and more each day whether he knows it or not.

“I wish we could have a spa day or go shopping. Luca doesn’t let me leave unless I’m with him.”

“What about with a bodyguard?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Benedetto stays here and watches me when Luca is gone, but there’s also surveillance cameras so he can watch me at any time from his phone or laptop. He doesn’t trust me outside without him out of fear that I might say to someone I’m kidnapped or being abused or something that will stir up trouble.”

“This place is like a prison,” I curl my lip in disgust. “I can’t imagine… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault your brother is so horrible. No more apologies or pity. I’m just saying it like it is.” She stands and throws her half eaten piece of toast in the garbage and places her plate in the sink. “I’m so bored her that I saw Hulu has your show, M*A*S*H so I started watching season one.”

My eye light up. “Oh yeah? Who is your favorite?”

“Well, I like Hawkeye, but Trapper is also a cutie.”

I laugh. “Wait until B. J. comes in. Season four. You’ll love him.”

Arabella smiles but it quickly waivers. “I wish we weren’t so far apart. I could almost manage the horrible night’s with Luca if I got to spend my days with you.”

“I wish you were back in Chicago. Things aren’t the same without you there to harass me. Carmelo misses you too.”Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Arabella smirks. “Of course he does.”

The elevator door dings and normally I wouldn’t pay any attention for it had it not been for the fact that Benedetto springs out of his chair, grabs his pistol and aims it at the elevator. Arabella and I get down and hope the best.

“Luca didn’t tell me you were coming,” Benedetto sighs in relief.

“My son is forgetful,” the carefree voice is that of my father’s. My body stills and I’m frozen on the ground. I look up to see my father glancing over the couch at us. “You can get off the floor you know. It’s just dear old Dad. Do I get a hug?” He opens his arms wide.

Not wanting to seem suspicious, I stand and give him a quick hug and a kiss on each cheek. “What are you doing here?”

“Since you’re in town Luca invited me over for family dinner. Too bad your brother and mother couldn’t make it, but no matter,” he shrugs like he really doesn’t care that either of them are absent.

“They’re attending business at the office right now. I think you’re a little early for dinner,” Arabella states.

“Not to mention we just had breakfast,” I chime in.

“Can you blame me for being so anxious about wanting to see my daughter for the first time in months?”

You never seemed that anxious to see me before.

“You’re glowing, daughter. The married life is good to you. Your husband must be treating you well, you’re no longer skin and bones.”

My father struts into the kitchen and I give Arabella a confused look as I whisper. “Does he know?”

Arabella looks me up and down. “I don’t know. I couldn’t tell just by looking at you.”

Winter is ending and spring would be beginning soon which is unfortunate for me because these large bulky sweatshirts I’ve been wearing lately have been good cover up for the tiny bump I’m sporting.

While Arabella talks to my father, I use this opportunity to sneak a text to Antonio about him being here. Within seconds I get a response saying they’ll be home as soon as possible and to call if anything happens.

My father begins to pull various ingredients out of the fridge, pantry and cupboards. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to cook lasagna for everyone tonight. My treat. To my two children and their new marriages. We will have to toast to that,” my father smiles viciously. “Arabella, you have wine, right? We will definitely need the finest to drink to tonight.”

Arabella look to me with a speechless expression before nodding her head and nervously replying. “Yes, yes we have some wine we could toast to.”

Crap. If I don’t have wine, he’ll certainly know what’s going on.

“I better get started on the sauce,” my father murmurs more to himself than to Arabella and I.

For hours my father kept us in the kitchen doing things like chopping up onion, garlic, tomato, mozzarella and helping him make the pasta for the lasagna by the scratch. I thank God that my morning sickness has subsided or else I would’ve spewed my guts at all this food and given myself away—especially since Lasagna is one of my favorite dishes.

My father only made Lasagna a few times in his life. He never wanted to bother cooking especially not when, as he says, he has a wife and a paid cook to do it for him. My father knows how to cook, he’s definitely not ignorant to that fact. The few times he’s made us dishes were special occasions and also when he wanted to talk to us or keep an eye on us. When he cooked, he would ask us to do tedious kitchen chores or helping him with the noodle or chopping things just so he could make conversation and possibly get something out of us.

“Arabella, how do you like New York so far?” My father asks.

“It’s beautiful, our view is especially beautiful. I enjoy this city a lot. The city traffic reminds me of Chicago, although it seems a bit more intense here. I’m a little homesick though.”

“Luca says you seem to be adjusting well. I’m certain you’ll forget about Chicago in no time, especially when you start raising a family.”

Arabella locks in place and drops the knife on the ground nearly cutting herself. My father scatters her out of the way and picks up the knife. “You have to be more careful when handling sharp objects, sweetie.”

The false kindness in his voice and the use of sweetie makes me swallow bile creeping up my throat. Something is definitely up with him and I don’t trust him for a single moment.

“Arielle, how are you adjusting to Chicago?” My father asks me while his eyes are occupied on kneading the soon to be pasta in front of him.

“I love it. Love everything about the city.”

“Hmm. I remember you hated going to Chicago when you were younger.”

“Well, Chicago is where my family is now.”

He looks up to give me a death glare. It’s the angriest I’ve seen him all day. “And what is that supposed to mean? Now that you’re married the Giordano’s are suddenly your family and your real family in New York is now what? Nothing?”

“Never mind. I meant nothing by it, Father. I just meant I have my house and belongings there, my husband as well Angelo there.”

“Angelo. The second weakest link of my family next to you. Out of all three of my children you two seem to disappoint the most. Of course, you’re a woman and you can’t help but be naturally disappointing. Your brother has always had a soft spot for you and that makes him weak. You see, Arielle,. I paid very good money and spent a lot of my time to make your brothers tough. Do you remember when you were fourteen and some strange men took you and your brothers. They were about to rape you, weren’t they? Your idiot brother, Angelo risked his own life to save you just so you wouldn’t… what? Take a cock like a woman is supposed to? Luca tried to save his own skin and that’s what made me proud. You were always Angelo’s weakest link and that is why he is a disappointment.”

My mouth goes dry. “You wanted them to rape me?”

My father shrugs. “I wanted to teach my sons to not care about anything. You only care about yourself and the Famiglia. Wives are for fucking and giving children and children are a means of business and keeping the family name. You do not care for them because it makes you weak and it puts the Famiglia in danger. You care about someone and your enemies get a hand on them you’ll likely to do anything to get them back to you safe. It’s weakness, Arielle.”

Just as I was about to break down, Luca and Antonio enter. Antonio seems in more of a rush to be by my side  as Luca casually strolls in and inhales deeply.

“Smells delicious,” Luca wraps his arm around Arabella and kisses her on the lips. It wasn’t hard to see the disgust on her face as she scrunches her face and closes her eyes tight.

“I-I don’t want to be around him,” I whisper to Antonio.

“What happened?” Anger splays across his face. “What the fuck did he do?” He whispers harshly.

“He’s even worse than I remember,” I shake my head and try to fight off the burning, stinging sensation in my eyes. I refuse to cry in front of him.

“If you’ll excuse us, my wife and I would like some time alone.”