“This is crap,” Gianna muttered. She touched my shoulder. “Lily, get the hell away from here. Let us help you. What’s the use of being married to the Capo and the Consigliere of the Famiglia if we can’t force them to start a war for our little sister? You’re going to be miserable.”
“Luca said I could get rid of Benito in a few months when it won’t look suspicious anymore.”
Gianna snorted. “Oh sure, and what until then? My God, could Luca be any more of a jerk?”
Aria didn’t say anything, which was a sign in itself. She usually always tried to defend Luca.
“Are you and Luca still fighting?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it fighting. We’re basically ignoring each other. He’s angry at me for keeping you and Romero a secret from him, and I’m mad at him for making you marry Brasci.”
“He isn’t making me, Aria. Father is. Luca’s acting like a Capo should. I’m not his responsibility but the Famiglia is.”
“Good God, Romero has really rubbed off on you. Please tell me you don’t really believe what you just said,” Gianna said.
“I won’t have you all risk everything for me.”
Gianna touched her forehead in exasperation. “We want to risk it for you. But you have to let us.”
Even if I said “yes” now, what could they do? Both Luca and Matteo wouldn’t help us, not when they were surrounded by Outfit soldiers. This would be suicide. And Romero? He would do it without hesitation and get himself killed. Father’s words flashed in my mind again. No, I had to go through with this. It was the only option.
Someone knocked and a moment later Maria poked her head in. She was one of my bridesmaids, even though we still weren’t talking much. “You need to come out now.”
She disappeared before I had time to say something.
“I can’t believe Father is married to her,” Gianna said. “I don’t like her but I still feel sorry for her. Father is a bastard.”
I barely listened. My vision was turning black. Fear filled my bloodstream, made me want to bolt. But I held my head high and lowered my veil over my face. “We should go now.”
“Lily,” Aria began but I didn’t give her the time to finish whatever she wanted to say. I hurried toward the door and opened it, startled to find Father right in front of it. I hadn’t expected him to wait for me here. I knew he’d lead me to the altar but fathers usually waited in the ante-room. Maybe he’d worried I’d run off in the last minute.
“There you are. Hurry,” he said. He slanted a hard look at Gianna when she and Aria walked by but didn’t say anything. He held out his arm for me. An image of him with Maria popped into my head and I wanted to throw up. I put my hand on his forearm and let him lead me toward the main part of the church, even though every fiber of my being wanted to get away from him. Inside the church music was already playing. Before we entered, Father leaned down to me. “You better convince Benito you’re a virgin or he’ll beat you to death, and if he doesn’t, I will.” He didn’t wait for my reply. We went through the double doors and every pair of eyes turned toward us.
My feet felt like lead as I walked toward the altar. Benito waited for me at the end of it, a proud grin on his face, as if he could finally present his catch to everyone. Despite the risk, my eyes searched the crowd until they settled on Romero. He leaned against the wall on the right, an unreadable expression on his face. I tried to catch his gaze, even though it would have made this walk even harder but Romero didn’t even glance my way. He was completely focused on Aria, playing the part as her bodyguard.
I returned my attention to the front, hoping no one had noticed the detour my gaze had taken.
In the spot where my mother should have been was Maria, hunched shoulders, pale skin, sad eyes; maybe she thought nobody was looking because this was the first time she hadn’t put on a brave face. This was a taste of what I would look like soon enough. I peered up at Father. He on the other hand seemed rejuvenated, as if the marriage to a barely twenty-year-old had allowed him to drop a few of his own years. Didn’t he miss Mother at all? She should have been at his side for my wedding. My eyes sought Romero again. I couldn’t seem to stop. And Romero should have been the one waiting at the altar for me. We reached the end of the aisle and Father handed me over to Benito. Old-man fingers curled around my hand, sweaty and too firm. Father lifted my veil and for a moment I was worried my disgust and unhappiness were plain as day but from the look on Benito’s face, he didn’t seem to notice or care. I didn’t listen to the priest as he started his sermon. It took everything I had to stop myself from peering over my shoulder, seeking out Romero one more time.
While the priest and the gathered guests waited for my “I do,” I considered saying “no” for a brief moment. This was my last chance, the last exit before I was forever stuck on a highway to unhappiness, or at least until I figured out a way to get rid of my husband. Was I even capable of something like that? I couldn’t even smash a
