Repaying the Mafia’s Dept

Emelia

I gaze ahead to the long mirror at my reflection. My heart squeezes.

This wedding dress is beautiful, very beautiful.

It looks like it was pulled from a fairytale. Definitely fit for a princess. Its sleeveless bodice hugs my frame, accentuating my breasts and the tiny curve of my waist. The endless length of fabric flowing from the body creates that magical effect flirting with my legs as I move.

I can imagine all eyes on me on the big day. I’ve tried on ten dresses today, and this one looks the best.

I really didn’t like the ones yesterday, but if I’m honest, I didn’t try all that hard. I always felt, though, when you see the dress you want, you wouldn’t have to try. You’d fall for it the same way you fell for the guy. He’d be the one, and the dress would be the one. That’s if it was real.

If it were real, I’d pick this dress. This morning, I thought I’d make things less difficult on myself by pretending it was real. I knew if I sent the seamstress away again today, Massimo would think I was being difficult and punish me for it, or some shit.

It sparkles against the sunlight beaming in from the long French windows of the hall. It’s truly, truly perfect. It’s probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Just like the ring on my finger, however, it doesn’t feel like it belongs to me. It feels like it doesn’t belong on me.

Both remind me of poison. The same way poison works its way into your body and slowly kills you. Both the dress and the ring have that effect on me.

Both are designed to hurt me.

Both are a poisonous reminder that I am owned.

I belong to Massimo D’Agostino, and just like one of his many assets, I am property. That is all I am to him, nothing more.

“How’s it going in there?” the seamstress calls out from the other side of the curtains. The hall was set up so I’d have some privacy to change.

“Good, I… like this one,” I reply. I give myself a once-over in the mirror and make my way out through the curtains.

The seamstress gasps, along with Priscilla and Candace, who came to help me. I swear Priscilla looks like she’s going to cry. It makes me think of how I imagined my mom to be during this time. I tear up at the thought.

“My God,” Priscilla says. She walks up to me and holds out her hands to take mine. I give them to her, and she gently squeezes. “Emelia, you look truly beautiful.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” I reply.

“My dear, you are one of the most beautiful brides I’ve ever seen,” the seamstress states, bringing her hands together.

Candace nods her agreement. “I second that. You look amazing.”

“Thank you all. I guess this is the winning dress, then,” I reply.

“Definitely a winner,” she agrees. “It’s perfect. I think we just need to take in the top here a little bit.” She tugs on the edge of the binding.

“Okay.”

“And may I suggest having your hair up to show off the back design? And a tiara, unless you specially want a veil.”

“I like the idea of my hair up and the tiara,” I agree completely. When I first saw the dress, I already thought the back needed to be displayed. It has scallops going down the curve. It’s as beautiful as the front.

“Perfect. You’re an easy bride to work with,” she beams, rubbing her hands together. Her green eyes sparkle with delight and the crow’s feet at the corners crinkle as she smiles wide.

If there’s one thing I’ve noticed so far, it’s that everyone who’s been in contact with me since coming to live here has been really nice.

“Thanks, I’m glad to hear.”

“Okay, go change, and I’ll work my magic. I’ll come back in a few days, and we’ll talk shoes and accessories.”

“That sounds great.” It sounds like I’m talking by default. Like the words are coming out of my mouth, but I don’t know what I’m actually saying.

Candace seems to notice. I can tell from the sympathetic look she offers me.

I duck back behind the curtains and place a hand at my heart when I look at myself again in the mirror.

I wish I could be happier.

I wish this moment could feel better, that I weren’t marrying a monster who has this effect on me I can’t explain. It hurt me to no end when he called me nothing. I can’t quite explain how it hurt me when he said it. It felt worse than feeling like a thing. Now, I’m not so sure where I am in my mind. What I am is stuck.

I change into a pair of jeans and a camisole. Clothes. My actual clothes.

When I woke this morning, there were two things in my room that I didn’t have yesterday. The first was my suitcases and bags I was supposed to take to Florence, and the second was a little bit of freedom. The door was open. It wasn’t locked. I could walk around outside the room, and I could open the window.

It was clear that he’d specifically come into the room last night while I was asleep and done all of that. I just knew it was him. The scent of him lingered in the air.

What wasn’t there was my art supplies and paintings. I don’t know if that was because Dad didn’t send them, or if they are here and Massimo decided not to give them to me. I don’t know.

By the time I unpacked my stuff and changed, it was time for my dress fitting.

I pull my hair back into a ponytail and head out again with the dress. The seamstress takes it from me and places it in a bag.

Candace walks up to me and taps my shoulder. She isn’t wearing her uniform today. Instead, she’s wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of jeans. Her hair is braided to the side, and she wears a pair of Converses that make her look trendy.

“I’m hanging out with you today,” she says. “How about a walk on the beach?”

I smile at that. “I would love to.”

“You girls get back in time for lunch,” Priscilla says.

“We will,” Candace replies. I just smile because it’s not like I have a choice.

We leave the hall and head down the same corridor I walked with Massimo last night, but instead of taking the stairs leading up to the terrace, we go down another set of stairs. The door opens out right onto a patio that leads to the beach. As Candace opens the doors, the salty scent of the sea washes over me and I feel alive.

It’s amazing what we take for granted in life. Small things like feeling the hot sun on my skin as the languid breeze lift the ends of my hair are things I’ve missed so much over the last few days. I smile and savor the feeling, savor the freedom.

And since I absolutely love walking on the beach, I take off my shoes so I can feel the sand between my toes.

Candace chuckles. I smile back.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” she asks.

“Oh yes. I always take my shoes off when I’m on the beach.”

“Maybe I’m too used to it,” she answers. “Let’s go this way.”

We walk down near the rock pool and sit on the sand where it offers a scenic view of endless sea. It reminds me of Italy. Of the beach in Tuscany Dad always took me and Ma to when we went on vacation.

“Let’s stay here for a while, then I’ll show you around the rest of the place and maybe give you a tour of the house,” she says.This text is © NôvelDrama/.Org.

I guess she must have been given the okay to show me more than the beach.

“Thank you. This is beautiful,” I say. “I love it.”

“Me too. My family is from Sicily. The beach where they live is just like this.”

“My family is from Tuscany. The beach there is gorgeous too,” I say.

She nods, agreeing. “When did you last go back?”

“A few years ago, with my mother. Just before… before she died.” It’s still hard to say the words that confirm her death.

She looks sad to hear that. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It was a few years ago. I still miss her so much, but death happens, doesn’t it.” I sound braver than I feel. Those words mask the truth of what I feel deep inside. I still cry for her. That sadness never ends, and I know if she were alive now, this wouldn’t be happening to me.

“Yeah… death happens,” she replies. Sadness clouds her eyes. “Both my parents are dead. It was an accident.”

“I’m sorry to hear,” I sympathize.

“Thanks.”

“My mom had cancer. That last trip to Tuscany was her last visit to her homeland. We painted… that’s what I do. I paint.”

“What do you paint?” She sounds intrigued.

“Everything. Anything my imagination conjures up.”

“That sounds cool. I write poetry. I stuck with it after college.”

“After?” I thought she was close to my age.

“After. I’m twenty-five.”

“You look a lot younger.” She beams.

“Thank you. I think it’s my youthful spirit.” She giggles. “I studied English literature. I wanted to be a teacher, but I guess I’ll get myself together eventually. It can be tough out there trying to get started in your career.”

“Yeah,” I agree. My launch into my career has been tough for a reason I’m sure most people never encounter, and it looks like it’s never going to happen for me. “How long have you worked here?”

“Years. I’ve known Massimo all my life though.” Her face shows that fond look I’ve seen on Pricilla’s face. I hope she isn’t going to sing his praises or do anything like that. I don’t want to hear it.

“If it’s okay, I… don’t really want to talk about him,” I say. That’s the best way I can put it without sounding too rude, although I probably do sound exactly that.

“You don’t have to.” She nods. “I’m not here for that. I thought maybe you could use someone to talk to. Or just hang with. If you do want to talk about him, though, I swear everything you say will be strictly off the record. I mean that.”

I gaze at her wondering if I can let my guard down and trust her. She and Priscilla have been nice to me, but that doesn’t mean anything when it comes to loyalty.

I learned well from dealing with people who worked for my father. In the end, they would always answer to him. Maybe though… I could just talk about the things on my mind that she must already be aware of.

“It’s hard, hard being here. Hard… doing what I’m doing. Marrying a man I don’t know,” I explain. Suddenly, I feel like I want to spill my heart.

She nods, understanding. “I know. I can only imagine. I could see it as you tried on one dress after another. You look like you want to be happy because the dresses and your ring are so beautiful, but the situation spoils it.”

She hit the nail on the head. “Yeah. All my hopes and dreams crushed just like that. My life stolen. I don’t know how I’m supposed to live like this. There’s no escape for me.”

She looks down at the sand, stares at it for a moment, then her gaze flicks back up to meet mine.

“Emelia…” Her voice trails off. “I feel sorry that this has happened to you. I confess that I don’t agree. I’m paid to do a job, but I see many things I don’t like. Your father did a lot to Massimo’s family, but I don’t agree that you have to suffer for it.”

My interest piques at her words. She sounds like she might have answers.

“I don’t know what he did. I don’t know anything. Up until last week, I never even knew my father knew the D’Agostinos.”

“Yeah, that figures. Women and children are kept out of business. I wasn’t so lucky. Just like Massimo. I saw the ugly side when I was far too young. It changes you forever.”

As she speaks, I get the impression that there’s more to her story than just her parents’ accident.

“What happened?” I ask.

“I… can’t talk about my story. Not yet anyway. Maybe someday.” She gives me a nervous, shaky smile. “Massimo though… things changed a lot for him when his family lost everything. My family has served the D’Agostinos for many generations. Being the help’s daughter, I hear things. I saw things. I know things I probably shouldn’t.”

My chest tightens. “Like what?”

“Have you ever heard of the syndicate?”

I shake my head. “No. Never.”

“Good. They’re a secret society for the most part, although they don’t keep their existence secret. If you know, you know. What you don’t know is how they operate and what they do, but it’s not hard to figure out they’re untouchable. They’re made up of six powerful crime families. Two of the current leaders are your father and Massimo’s.”

My eyes widen. “My father?” I can’t imagine that I wouldn’t have known about them.

“Yeah. I’m not surprised that you didn’t know. Membership is only made up of men. So, maybe your uncles or someone like that would have dealings with them.”

Uncle Leo is basically Dad’s right-hand man. “I see.”

“You get initiated based on wealth or resource. Whatever you can bring to the table that’s valuable. They live by a creed they sign in blood to protect each other to the death,” she explains, hugging her knees to her chest. “Your father and Giacomo D’Agostino used to be best friends. Your father stole their business you now have from him and wiped him out. Left him with nothing. And because he had nothing, he got uninitiated from the syndicate. That is worse than having nothing. It’s often worse than death because you aren’t supposed to be in a situation where you can share information about the Syndicate and its secret plans and plots.”

Jesus Christ. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

“What happened to them?”

“Everything bad. They lost their home. At one point, they were living in a trailer park. Just barely. Fifteen years ago, Giacomo started his oil business and flourished. The wealth was like wildfire, but it never made up for their biggest loss of all. They lost all they owned during that terrible time, but they lost something worse when Massimo’s mother died.”

“What happened to her?”

“She killed herself when Massimo was twelve. He found her.”

“Oh my God.” I bring my hands up to my cheeks.

“I know. It was so sad because she was like this perfect being. She was always so nice to me. Called me the daughter she never had. I was always hanging out with the boys. Massimo never said as much, but he blames your father for her death.”

My eyes grow wide as I recall what he said about not being able to bring the dead back to life.

“This is a nightmare.”

She smiles without humor. “It’s worse than a nightmare, Emelia. This war began long before we were born. Massimo blames your father for her death and the hard life they were forced into when he was growing up. But his father blames your father for so much more. The thing about hearing too much is having to bear the responsibility of knowing when to keep quiet. The reason why their fathers fell out was her. Massimo’s mother.”

My breath hitches in my chest. “What do you mean?”

“They were both in love with her.” A steel weight drops in the pit of my stomach. “That’s all I know, but it makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Makes you wonder what else happened.”

Secrets and lies, that’s what my world feels like it’s based on. I stare at her long and hard and wonder why she’s telling me so much.

“Why? Why are you telling me all of this?” I ask.

She raises her shoulders into a shrug. “Maybe I feel bad that you have to be dragged into a battle that isn’t yours to fight. Maybe I feel bad that your life will be stolen from you if you marry Massimo. Maybe I’d just hate to be you. Or… maybe I’m trying to justify my reasons to help you, breaking loyalty to a man I think of as a brother.”

My nerves scatter. “What are you saying, Candace?

Will she help me? How?

She leans in close. Her eyes turn glassy as tears well within them. “He trusts me the most. That’s why I get to hang out with you. Me and Priscilla. But he’s not the boy I grew up with. None of the brothers are. It’s not their fault though.”

No, it seems to be my father’s.

“Candace, are you going to help me?” I ask, cautiously. We both look around nervously.

We’re far away from the closest guard, who’s stationed on the terrace. He can’t hear us talking, but it’s understandable given the circumstances that fear and paranoia would set in.

Candace nods when I look back at her. “If he finds out I was disloyal in any way, I wouldn’t blame him if he killed me.”

“Then don’t. I couldn’t bear it.” I wince, shaking my head.

“Evil will always continue if good people stand by and watch, Emelia. Evil will always win if good people sit back and allow it to happen. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t help you, but please think before you act.” She holds my gaze as I consider her words.

Think before I act… A chance to escape is worth gold to me right now, but I know what she means. If I get it wrong, it won’t just be me who will be punished.

She looks ahead of us and carefully points to the end of the beach.

“Do you see that cave?”

“Yes.” The cave is at the furthest end of the beach. From here it’s almost a blur, but I can see it. The waves crash against the rocks, and the area looks like it cuts off after that point.

“The cameras don’t work past the area with the palm trees. There’s one camera on a lamp post. That’s it. The path leads right into the cave. There’s a rowboat inside,” she explains.

I can’t believe my ears. She’s just given me the answer.

“Oh my God, Candace,” I gasp.

“You’ll see a speedboat too, but don’t even try to take that. Massimo keeps the keys on him at all times, and even if you could get it to work, he has a security system on it that he can control from inside the house. It will alert him the second the boat engine switches on. So, your only choice is the rowboat.”

With trembling lips, I nod. “Okay. I’ll go for the rowboat. Candace-”

“Emelia, it’s dangerous,” she interrupts. “That’s the most important warning I’ll give you. Dangerous waters. You’re right in the heart of it on that side.”

God… I can’t swim well in safe waters, let alone dangerous waters. But it’s a route to escape. I will make sure I’m safe if I get a chance to use it.

“I’ll be okay. I have to be.”

“Then, please… make sure you flee and never look back if you do it, because if he finds you, he’ll know it could only be me or Priscilla who told you how to escape. So… please think properly before you try it. He’s given permission for us to show you around. It’s up to you to gain his trust for you to walk around without supervision and the guards on constant lookout.” She reaches out and takes my hands. “Please think about it before you do anything. That’s my one request.”

“I will,” I promise.

The plan now is to get him to trust me. I look at the cave and see freedom.

How do I get Massimo to trust me?

Obedience.

Doing what he says.

Being his.