Page 2 of Impenitent Claim

I almost did. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them. I wasn’t quite that stupid.

Chapter 2 – Isabella

The bright white threatened to blind me. The color symbolized purity, a prized virtue amongst the young women of Italian mobs. As bartering chips, we were meant to fetch a high price for our immediate family and support our famiglia, our organization or syndicate, with our marriage.

In my case, it was a lie.

Alone in the dressing room, the attendant who wrangled me into this veritable jumpsuit waited just outside the curtain, so that I could have a moment with my thoughts. The only thing running through my head was how much I hated this monstrosity of a gown. Most prisoners wore orange; I was stuck in white. And not a pretty, enchanting white. The dress was ugly enough to banish the loop of thoughts about my nocturnal visitor. I narrowed my eyes at the corseted waist. It was so damn tight! Shifting my upper body, I tried to create more room.

“Come out and show us!” Cecilia Bruno called.

My fingers curled into a reflective fist. “Coming, Cece!”

The strega wouldn’t slap me in front of the other women of the famiglia for using the nickname she abhorred. Would she?I glanced at my reflection one last time. At least a mark would bring some color to the woman staring back at me.

Hiking the ridiculous skirt, petticoat, and stiff crinoline, I stomped out of the dressing room. Cecilia’s glare scalded me, but she didn’t advance as I made my way to the platform. A chorus ofoohsandahhsswirled around the room like a bad stench.

My reflection shimmered in the half circle of mirrors. It was exactly the opposite of the gown I would have chosen. I enjoyed being able to move—and breathe. The color was all wrong. A little tea would stain it beautifully. Cutting layers to make a simpler skirt, removing the sparkling crystal beads, and adding old fashioned lace would make it moreme.

But I wasn’t allowed to be that woman.

No…I was the late don’s daughter. With the passing of my parents just before Christmas, the Rinaldi Famiglia was thrown into chaos. The threat of war loomed thick, and only the underboss’s solution saved us from certain doom. To keep the strongest capo from creating his own faction, they made him boss. None of the other capos were powerful enough to fight Aldo Bruno, not even the underboss. One by one, the other capos either fell in line with the new regime or they went to sleep with the fish.

But Signor Bruno was old school. When he became the new don, he wanted things done properly. Since his family had no ties to the founding family, he wanted that fixed. The solution? When his son came of age, the eighteen-year-old was going to marry the late don’s daughter—me.

While I was in Chicago, unable to complete the finals for college because I grieved my parents’ passing, the underboss called me with this ultimatum. Marry the new don’s son and they would allow my brother and me to live. Simple. Vicious. A typical mob solution. If I played along, my only remaining family member wouldn’t die. It was politically strategic to takeout my kid brother, so he never grew strong enough to challenge the leadership, but Don Aldo felt that by binding me, it would prevent future problems.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to me—marriage to end a war. I was no better than a prized heifer. It was every mafia princess’s worst nightmare.

“Isabella! Are you deaf?” Cecilia barked, snapping her fingers. “Turn, girl. Turn!”

As if things weren’t bad enough, the don’s sister became mistress of the house and considered herself queen of the Made Men. Her primary job, however, was making sure I was the symbol of peace and unity. A fit virgin to be sacrificed to her nephew.

“Oh, sorry, Cece!” I gushed, laying it on thick. Yep, she was going to hit me. But it was worth it to see the shade of purple flushing over her neck to use the hated nickname. “I was caught in the magic, Cece. I look just like a princess! Better than any Disney movie, don’t you think? Although, I could use some singing woodland creatures. Wouldn’t it be beautiful to wander through a misty, ancient forest in this dress?”

“It cost six figures, you willnotwander through nature!” the strega snapped.

Screw her. Some mud and twigs would upgrade this dress. “Wouldn’t it be splendid, though? To be shrouded in mist, with the fresh kiss of the wind caressing my skin as I rambled over mossy stones wet with dew?”

“You’d think she would have grown out of that nonsense by now,” Bella Silvio sneered. It was meant to be confidential to the glossy matron sitting next to her, but the words were purposely spoken loud enough so I’d hear.

There was no way I would give up my imagination, not when reality was so much worse and the escape to other worlds through my mind was the only relief. It wasn’t like I could go tomy bedroom, the only place untouched by the new regime, and lose myself to the pages of my Kindle. Oh, no! Not with such an important obligation as a fitting for a wedding dress I hated.

“Alonzo is going to go crazy when he sees you in that,” Giulia tittered. Sweet thing that she was, this was her attempt to restore peace.

Benedetta, sitting beside her, hummed in agreement. They were the closest in age to me, but I wouldn’t call either of them friends.

I smiled because that was what was expected of me. “I think he’ll be more interested in the lacy bits underneath.”

Cecilia gasped. The girls giggled, while their mothers blushed vibrant shades of red.

I couldn’t hide my stare of disbelief fast enough. Her glare increased.

“Itismy wedding night,” I reminded her, hoping my bubblehead act would save me.

“We don’t talk about such things,” she scolded.

Prude.

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