The timer goes off and I hop off the bed to wash up, but the bright light from the sun beams through the room and I have to drink it in. It’s rare to get a great deal of sun at this time of the year. The weather is warming up, but this is the northeast. Spring storms are always on the way in from the ocean. It’s the start of spring, which usually means renewal, a fresh start, but to me it means a little more freedom to roam the gardens and plant. Of course the security is tight, but I can at least pretend that I’m a wife of leisure and completely content with my life.
I open the curtains to the balcony doors. They’re locked for my protection, or so they claim. In reality, it’s about stopping me from taking a nosedive into the cement below. Some days I’ve considered it, but I’d rather take Rafael with me. I won’t make my death easy for him. As I stare out, I can see movement coming from the left in front of the large portico. A black-on-black SUV pulls up and the driver exits to open the back door.
“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.” I see Rafael straightening his suit jacket before heading to the open vehicle door. He pauses and looks up. I quickly close the drapes so he doesn’t see me. I know that it isn’t a last glance out of love, but to make sure I don’t try to leave.
If only I could call the cops or maybe the Feds, but I’m not sure who to trust since so many are in their pocket.
Then again, if they have them paid off, why is their oldest in prison? I feel like there’s so much more there that interests me. Something about Santino Marchetti has intrigued me since I first learned of him. When we became engaged, I remember thinking that his brother should be the one my parents sold me to. After seeing his picture, I would rather have been his wife because at least he was good-looking.
For the first week of our marriage, I would pretend that Rafael was his brother. It’s stupid because they’re nothing alike in looks, but it helped me cope with the situation. It ended when he heard me call him Santino when we were at dinner. I played it off because someone had said his name during the dinner. It’s the only reason I managed to walk away unscathed that night. After all, the house isn’t full of pictures of the older brother. The only one I saw is the one they keep on the mantle, and I never look at it for more than a glance just in case their eyes land on me and see my curiosity.
I don’t know why, but I can’t stop thinking about Santino. Sometimes, I still fantasize about him like somehow he’d save me from this life. I shake my head and walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower. As I’m washing my hair, I remember why. This morning, I heard the guard say something to Rafael before he came into my room and Santino’s name was the only thing I could make out.
My shower’s quick because I don’t trust the guards. They don’t have the go-ahead to take me, but that doesn’t mean they don’t like stealing peeks at me naked. I wrap a towel around my body and one around my long, dark hair. Opening my closet, I pull out a pretty yellow top with a pair of jeans. My wardrobe consists of mostly the clothes that my parents bought as a wedding gift. I’m in the middle of brushing my hair when there’s a knock.
The door unlocks and he waits for me to open it. I keep my body behind the door so he doesn’t have a chance to ogle me. “Signora Marchetti, you’re being summoned by Signor Marchetti,” his guard informs me. I hate every single one of them. Their eyes have roamed over me like I’m nothing but an object. They’ve already hinted that the second I give the boss an heir, I’ll be their “cum dump” as they put it, and apparently, Rafael approves. What kind of husband would allow that?
“I’m allowed out of my cage. So thoughtful. Should I get dressed, or would his majesty prefer I go looking like a used hooker?”
“Please be presentable. Santino is here. Signor Marchetti temper’s high. Do your best to check your attitude. If you don’t, I’ll inform him of your mouth.”
“The prodigal son has returned. Am I supposed to service both of them now?”
“Well, he’s been without pussy for a couple of years, so maybe Rafael will be lenient and let him do you in the ass. Something he’s probably used to in the joint. Now get ready. I’ll be waiting.”
“Maybe they need to be made aware of your mouth, you little pissant.” I dismiss him with a wave of my hand and close the door. I fetch one of the four outfits suitable for the old bastard who makes my skin crawl and his oldest spawn. I double check my appearance. I tell myself it’s because I’m trying not to get a beating, but in reality, something is demanding that I look good for Santino.
“Get out here now. Quit being a spoiled bitch. Signor Marchetti said to make it quick.”
“What?” I throw open the door, ready for a battle with this bastard. “Who the fuck do you think you are talking to?” I remind him. “You are lucky that I don’t have
