Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Yeah, it was just… I dunno, odd. He asked me all about our father, and I told him how they used to call him ‘The Skull,’ and how his signature move was a modern-day scalping. It was like—”
I stop talking because Romeo has come to a halting stop.
“Did you discuss anything like… a timeline? Our ages?”
I shake my head. “No, but I told him how we’d hide down there and look for bodies, because—” I close my mouth. Now that I’m saying this out loud, I’m not so sure I was supposed to say that.
Did he get me high on purpose?
“I…” My voice trails off.
Romeo’s face has gone ashen.
“What is it?” I ask in a whisper. “Romeo, please…”
But instead of answering he only tugs me into a corner of the room where Tavi and Orlando stand drinking amber liquid in crystal glasses.
“Y’alright, bro?” Orlando asks him.
“We need to have a word,” he says, jerking his chin to the corner of the room. “We’ll be back, Marialena.”
“Hey, wait,” I protest. “You can’t just… go have a word about something that’s a major concern to me and exclude me. What the hell?”
Romeo looks at me sadly and shakes his head. He opens his mouth to speak and then clamps it shut as if thinking better about it. “I love you, Marialena, and you’ll always be my favorite little sister.” A lump rises in my throat. “But you’re Marialena Capo now. Your allegiance is to your husband.”
Marialena Capo. I swallow a sob that rises in my chest at the enormity of this shift. It’s not like I was unaware, but I’m still hit with the painful loss of the way my family would confide in each other.
What’s happening? I hate that I don’t know who to trust or where to look. I feel suddenly cast away from anyone that ever loved me, including my new husband. I blink back tears as a member of staff sidles up to me. “Another drink, miss?”
I shake my head no. It’s time I sobered up.
“Hey, you okay?” I look up to see Rosa a few feet away, a glass of wine in hand and a look of concern on her face. “Marialena?”
The sympathetic sound of her voice makes me want to cry. It’s easier to stay strong when I don’t have someone nearby ready to catch me.
I look around for Salvatore, but he’s nowhere to be found. I release a breath and jerk my head toward the patio. “Hey, wanna go for a walk? It’s gorgeous out there. I saw actual dolphins the other day.”
“Absolutely, let’s do it. That white sand beach is like straight out of a resort catalog.”
“Right?”
On my way out, I survey the food and accept a few thanks and well wishes, some from people I don’t know and some from people I do. It takes us longer than I expect to make it to the exit, and when we finally do, I sag against the vacant doorway.
“Not easy being popular, is it?” Rosa asks teasingly.
I shake my head. “Not easy being known by everyone in the room, either.”
People knew who I was when I was a Rossi, but I wasn’t the most important person in the room half the time. So even though I didn’t get privacy necessarily, I was often left to my own devices, and that was good enough. Now, though…
“It isn’t easy, little sister,” Rosa says softly. “I somehow got lucky.”
“The second time around. Let’s not sugarcoat the first, babe.”
Her first husband cheated on her and beat her before my father found out. None of us knew that she was already in love with our very own Santo, a sworn member of the Rossi mob who came to live with us when he was a child. She’s found her happily ever after, but only after much pain and heartache.
“True,” she admits. “So what’s going on?”
We look out at the water, as the waves lap on the crystal white shore.
“I don’t really know. I can’t put my finger on it. And if I even verbalize what’s concerning me… I don’t know, I think it sounds stupid?”
She takes a sip of wine before giving me a wry smile.
“Try me.”
I look around us to make sure we’re alone. And though we don’t have total privacy, no one is near enough to hear us.
“I… feel like I have to put a wall up around my heart to protect myself from him. I feel like… if I drop my shield even for a moment, then I can’t… I can’t trust him not to break my heart.”
“Of course,” she says, nodding. “Understandable. I think half the women that marry men like we did hope to change them or reform them.” She huffs out a mirthless breath. “But that’s incredibly unlikely. The best that we can hope for is to be loved despite our circumstances, and for fidelity.”