Page 4 of Veil of Vengeance

“Violette, Monica, and Diletta, I want you all out. I need to speak to Valentina.” Mom’s eyebrows reach her forehead at the tone my Nonna uses, but they all obey. I can feel Violette’s stare burn the side of my face. They all scurry out of the large wooden doors, and Nonna watches them before her sharp eyes turn back to me. They narrow slightly, something akin to disgust flashing in her gaze.

Her cane thuds against the cream-colored wooden floors as she makes her way toward the corner of the room, where two leather armchairs are facing each other, with a small black round French coffee table. Nonna doesn’t wait for me to sit down.

“As a woman, your place is with your husband, and you have been spoken for by someone we want to form an alliance with.” Her expression stays the same, even as she takes in my thinning lips, wide eyes, and clenched fists. I grit my teeth, knowing that she thinks of me as a nuisance.

“Your Dad has decided that an alliance with the Colombians is necessary. You will marry the eldest son of the Guerrero Clan. We will announce your engagement to Nicholas Guerrero at the party your Dad is hosting.”

My stomach rolls at the idea of being engaged to a man I have never seen, only having heard the cruel rumors plaguing his name like cancer.

“Nonna, please, you cannot be serious about this. I have never even seen Nicholas, and what if we don’t get along-” Nonna cuts me off, my cheek stinging with the pain of her slap.

“Be quiet, you silly little girl. Do not delude yourself into believing that because you were born in America and raised here, that you may entertain such devilish behaviors. We are Sicilian women; we carry our pride and honor like a crown, and I will not allow you to taint the Moretti name with such nonsense.” Nonna’s harsh words do not surprise me at all. I rub a hand over the sore cheek, avoiding her eyes. “Besides,” she continues with a sigh, “you should have been married off when you had turned eighteen, but since your Mom insisted that an education is important in today’s society, we had put off marrying you. Now the time has come for you to start your own family.”

Nonna clearly doesn’t think I have anything of value to say, because she leaves once she has finished speaking.

Eyes burning, my vision slowly blurs. I try to take deep breaths to calm myself, but it doesn’t work because I can feel my throat closing as if something is choking me. My chin quivers with the effort of not crying, and I rub the heels of my palms into my eyes, wishing for the earth to open up and swallow me.

I stand up, letting out a frustrated sigh. No, I won’t sit here and wallow in misery. I need to find a way to get out of this arrangement.

The drawing room is on the bottom floor of our Chicago estate, located in the farthest corner of the villa. Irritation clings to my skin as I make my way through the hallway toward my sanctuary in this hellhole. The library. Taking a breath, I stop in front of the door that would lead me to the hedge maze outside.

Instead of going to the library, I decided to slide the glass doors open and walk down the curving stairs. Pausing at the last step, a cool breeze washes over me. It’s kind of warm for an early fall afternoon.

As if the summer is refusing to move on, the leaves are already falling and turning orange. Which I am perfectly content to watch. I think that fall is the best time of the year because you get to see the beautiful change in nature.

A soft breeze blows my hair in my face as I reach the bottom step of the large granite stairs. I watch the sun as it slowly descends on the horizon, casting different hues of colors. My heart thumps as I weave myself through the first few hedges of the maze, some of the sun peeking through.

The sound of leaves crunching fills my ears as my sneakers step over them, something about it easing my racing thoughts. The maze always ends up feeling haunted around October and November, but once December hits, when it snows, it resembles a Christmas wonderland. Doesn’t matter when I explore it, though, it brings me a sense of peace every time. And right now, that’s exactly what I need.

* * *

By the timeI make it out of the maze and back into the house, dinner is already being prepared and I can hear Dad’s angry voice echo down the hallway.

A loud bang sounds from his office, bouncing off the dark gray walls. I pause outside the large mahogany door.

“Your son is going to cost us another war with the fucking Camorra, Benito. I will not have the Outfit suffer for your son's stupidity.” Dad must be on the phone with my uncle, and I’m not surprised that this concerns one of my cousins.

“No, your son was initiated two weeks ago. I will punish him for stepping out of line like everybody else…” It must be about Giuseppe. I don’t know what he did, but I am kind of surprised because he’s usually the more level-headed one between him and Michele.

“And because he’s fucking family, we will discipline him accordingly. I don’t tolerate any kind of challenge to my rule, Benito. I don’t care if he wasn’t initiated when he acted outside of orders. You know this. Giuseppe better be in the dungeons by six tomorrow, or you know what will happen.” I doubt Dad waits for a response since he slams something, which I assume is his phone against his table. The carpet muffles the sound of my sneakers as I try to avoid him.

“Valentina, sweetie. Where were you?”Cazzo!I clearly didn’t walk quickly enough to get away before he opens his door. My dad is usually nice to us when we do nothing he’d deem disrespectful. Well, as nice as a mafia Capo could be. With a swallow, I turn toward my dad.

“Um… I was out in the rose maze, Papa,” I say, and I can see his eyes narrow.

“Right, well, go to your Mom. She's looking for you.” I nod, but before I can say that I’ll go find her, he speaks up again. “Has Nonna spoken to you about your upcoming engagement announcement?”

My jaw clenches involuntarily at the mention of my upcoming prison sentence, or at least that's how I think it’ll be.

“Yes, Nonna has made me aware of it.” My heart thumps in my ears and my shoulders stiffen as I wait for him to let me go. Dad finally dismisses me with a nod.

I turn and manage to walk three steps before he speaks up again. “And Valentina, from now on, you are to wear heels at all times.”

Clenching my fists on the side of my baggy denim jeans, I look down to stare at my sneakers.

“Yes, Papa.” I stand there for a beat longer, wondering if he has any other demands, but all I hear is the click of his door closing.

* * *

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