Page 8 of Poison and Wine

Sister Lucia winked. “Lucky guess.”

“Any chance we have rainbow sprinkles?”

“I think there might be a jar left in the pantry,” Sister Maria replied.

“Thanks.” After peeking in the pantry, I began eyeing the shelves. Today was a lucky day apparently because I found a half empty jar. Normally, the order didn’t allocate funds for treats. The money we spent went only for basic needs. But I snuck the allowance from my trust fund into the budget to ensure we had treats for the kids and even the parents.

I shoved the sprinkles into my skirt pocket and made my way out of the kitchen. As I walked past a mirror, I used my free hand to tuck back the hair that escaped my ponytail. I didn’t have time to stop and redo it. I’d been eternally grateful when I joined the Sacred Heart that their more modern rules didn’t dictate that we had to wear a habit or robes. Instead, we wore black or navy calf length skirts and white or gray blouses while our hair remained uncovered.

When I arrived back at the examination room, I handed Flavia the ice cream. Then I dug the sprinkles out of my pocket. Her eyes popped wide with excitement. “Thank you, sister.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied. After covering the ice cream with sprinkles, I smiled. “Take care.”

Once Flavia and her mother exited the room, I moved on to my next patient. Anyone who presented with serious issues was moved on to the doctor. In my brief medical course with the order, I’d been taught how to take blood pressure, administer vaccines, and clean wounds. Back home, I would barely be qualified as a CNA, but here, what skills I had were very needed.

After making it through the rest of the patients, it was almost closing time. I’d just come out to the main room when Amara, a blonde girl with pigtails, approached me. “Sister Cat, will you read us a story?”

Although I had a million things to do to close down the clinic for the day, I could never tell the children no. They were truly my weakness. Besides my brothers, they were the thing I truly missed from the outside world, or I guess I should say the world outside of the Sacred Heart. Growing up in a large Italian family, I’d never been at loss for endless numbers of cousins. Before I was ten, I’d garnered the nickname of Baby Whisperer.

Smiling at Amara, I replied, “I would love to.”

She shoved a book into my hand. “Read this one, please.”

“Of course,” I replied, as I eased down in a chair. Amara waved over several other children who were waiting as their mothers visited the food pantry. “Once upon a time in a faraway land, there was a beautiful princess who was locked away in a castle…”

Although my eyes focused on the words on the page, my mind became spirited miles away in another place and time. Once upon a time, I had been a princess held captive in a castle. Instead of a faraway land, I’d been born and raised in Manhattan, and my castle came in the form of a penthouse on the Upper East Side as well as a mansion in the Hamptons.

A handsome prince had never come to rescue me from my prison where we could live happily ever after.

Instead, six months after I turned eighteen, a marriage contract had been brokered with a man twenty-five years older than me. A man who I’d never seen, least of all spoken to. The first time I’d met him was when I’d been paraded in front of him in my father’s office. Just the thought of that day sent a shiver of dread down my spine.

Without even a hello or a handshake, Carmine Lucero had leered at me. His lecherous gaze had first focused on my breasts before trailing down. He’d licked his lips at the sight of my legs. After smacking my father on the back, he bellowed, “You’ve produced quite a specimen, Alessio. With those child-bearing hips, I’m sure she’ll give me many sons.”

Carmine’s first wife had died unexpectedly, if not somewhat suspiciously, leaving him with three daughters to raise. Daughters who would make me an instant mother upon our marriage. One of which was only four years younger than me.

After sliding an enormous diamond on my left finger, Carmine asked to be alone with me. Although I knew better than to vocalize my fear to my father, I’d tried conveying it with my eyes. He’d merely given me a disapproving shake of his head before he left us alone.

Carmine loomed over me. I kept backing away from him until I bumped into the wall. “I’m going to enjoy breaking you in.”

When he’d dipped his head to kiss me, I’d darted away from him. But he grabbed me by the arms and shoved me back against the wall. “You will let me kiss you.”

“I’m not supposed to kiss you until we’re legally married,” I protested.

“Our contract is enough.”

Thrashing against him, I shouted, “You will not disrespect me in this way!”

“Listen to me, you little cunt. When we are married, I will disrespect you in any way I see fit. I’ll fuck you in any way I see fit, and you’ll take it because you’ll be my wife.”

In that moment, my disgust and hatred of him overtook my fear. All of the lessons of obedience my mother had forced upon me escaped me. Rage like I’d never known possible rocketed through my veins, and I didn’t stop to question my actions.

I reacted.

Rearing back, I spat into his face.

Carmine had flushed with a hideous violet fury before his meaty palm struck my cheek. “If you ever even think of doing that again, I will let every one of my soldiers fuck you before I traffic you somewhere your father and brothers will never find you.”

At his threat of rape and trafficking, fear overwhelmed me, causing my knees to buckle. I slid down the wall. After cupping my stinging cheek, I feebly protested, “I’ll tell my father what you said. He’ll break the contract this instant.”

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