Page 3 of Veil of Vengeance

1

VALENTINA

Sitting on the carpeted floors of our library, I face my two younger sisters. It’s the only place we’re able to talk without feeling the need to watch what we say, but we still keep our voices low.

“You realize that is an idiotic plan and if you get caught by Mom or Dad, they wi-” Violette’s voice echoes around the large open library, and I cut her off with a hushed voice.

“I know, but I can’t take it anymore. We’re being watched all the time, and I heard Nonna and Dad talking… They want to marry me off soon.” She opens her mouth to speak, but I continue, ignoring the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“I heard them, Violette. They want to marry me off before summer starts. That’s in eight months.” The panic in my voice is palpable. All I want is to feel some sort of control over my life, and it’s slipping through my fingers.

She releases a sigh as she leans back onto the heels of her palms. Tilting her head, her shoulder-length blonde hair falls backwards, making her appear angelic. She inherited our Mom’s hair color. I, on the other hand, inherited our Dad’s black raven hair.

“I know you might not want to come with me, but Lottie, please don’t get in the way,” I say firmly, my expression pleading.

I turn to face Monica, who is sitting on one of the plush pink armchairs with her elbows on the armrests. She looks up from her phone and only lifts one of her shoulders in a half shrug, her lips pressed into a line, causing her left dimple to show. Before she can say a word, the library door handle makes an ugly screech, which causes us to turn our heads in that direction.

The door opens and Marcello comes tumbling in. But someone stops him when he tries to step forward into the room.

“Marcello, what are you doing?” My Dad’s icy demand cuts through the air as he stands in the entrance behind Marcello, making him flinch. His chin trembles with the effort to hold in his tears. Dad has trained him to better prepare him for his induction, but Marco’s yet to learn how to hold in his emotions.

“Marco, come here.” My voice comes out softer than I intended it to, causing our Dad to send a scathing glare above Marcello’s head toward me. His face set in a scowl as he steps into the library, Marcello moving into my outstretched arms.

“I told you this before, you silly boy. You cannot sit with your sisters, or you’ll become soft like them. Now come here.” Dad’s sharp and cruel tone, as usual, makes Marco bury his face into the nape of my neck and a few sniffles escape from his mouth.

Dad’s face contorts into one of utter rage at the blatant disregard of his command, and at the fact that his heir is crying and in the arms of a woman. Before I even know what is happening, my Dad leaps across the room and snatches Marco from my hands, holding him up by his arms to be eye level, shaking him.

“Don’t you cry!” he screams into his face. At that moment, Mom appears in the open doorway of the library, paling at the sight of Marco in the hold of Dad. Her fingers clutch the fabric of her long-sleeved gray dress, eyes widening and her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Alvize, please, for the love of God, put Marcello down. He’ll behave this time,” our Mom pleads with my dad.

“Shut up, Diletta! This is your fault! Look at him! He’s weak! How in God’s name will he be the future Capo of the Outfit?!” Dad screams. Mom stands eerily still as her gaze darts to us frantically. As soon as Dad drops Marco from his hold, Mom rushes over to him. “Angelo and Giovanni, get in here.” His soulless black eyes stare at Mom as she cradles a crying Marcello. Both Dad’s bodyguards rush in through the large mahogany door, waiting for an order.

“Marcello will receive punishment,” Dad declares with finality.

“Alvize, what are you going to do? He’s only five. He’ll learn. Just give him time.” Mom’s eyes glaze over as she regards our dad from her position on the floor, her arms wrapped around Marcello as he whimpers into her neck.

Monica, Violette, and I are paralyzed in our positions. We all hold our breath, waiting for the domino effect that follows with Dad’s outbursts. Dad doesn’t break the silence, but with a nod toward Marcello, he orders both Angelo and Giovanni to take him.

“He’ll spend the next three weeks in the dungeons.” A sob breaks from Mom’s mouth, her body shaking, but Dad continues. “No one will speak with him, no one will look at him, no one but the guards will be allowed.” There’s a deep scowl on his face as he directs a searing look at Mom, and then he turns to leave. But Mom jumps to her feet and runs, standing in his way. She clings to his right arm and begs with hot tears running down her face. I cringe at the sight, knowing what’s coming.

“Please, Alvize, I beg of you, please don’t lock him in the dun—’’ she’s cut off when Dad throws her off, and she stumbles backwards, hitting her head on the edge of the table.

My knees scrape across the carpet as I rush to stand, Violette and Monica right behind me as we grab Mom, inspecting her.

“Mom, are you okay?” I ask in a hushed voice, concerned that Dad might notice us, but she doesn't respond. She holds back her sobs, causing her shoulders to shake.

“Let me go, LET ME GO!” Marcello’s demands make us all turn to see him as Giovanni and Angelo drag him out. His face turns red as he struggles to escape their hold. It’s no use.

* * *

It’s beentwo days since Dad had his guards take Marcello to the dungeons, and we know nothing. Nonna has tried to persuade him to let Marcello out, but he told her to not involve herself in the men’s business.

I focus my attention on the screen of my phone, avoiding Violette’s demanding gaze. She’s trying to dissuade me from leaving during the party. The party is in a couple of days, and I need to figure out the best route to get out and back in before anyone notices I’m gone. I wipe my sweaty hand on my jeans, trying to appear normal and stop myself from shaking.

According to Nonna, Dad has been Capo for the last thirty years and has been the longest ruling Capo in the Outfit. I guess when you’re a crime boss of a very powerful family, it means that everyone will try anything to get rid of you. Dad seems to be proud of his achievement, which is the reason why the party is being held in our Chicago club. At the Via Veneto, the largest club in the entirety of the state of Illinois.

I doubt my uncles want to celebrate my Dad’s rule over the Sicilian Mafia. I look up just in time to see Nonna enter grimly, and we all stand out of respect. She clears her throat before she orders.

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