Page 9 of The One
I follow him and the last remaining guests outside, my guards forming a wall around me. I ignore them and slide into the backseat of my waiting car. As the door shuts behind me, my phone pings with an incoming message.
My grin widens.
Valentina.
Right on cue, baby.
Chapter Four
Mariella
“Your daughter’s suitcases were transferred to Signor De Marco’s town car. She’ll be taken to the airport in half an hour,” Fausto, my father’s right-hand man, tellsmammain his usual cold, stern voice. “Time to say goodbye. Your car is waiting out front.”
I never liked that man. None of us do.Mammanods, and he turns to leave, throwing me a withering glance over his shoulder.
The door closes behind him, leaving us in the small room at the back of the church.
Even an hour after the debacle, the air remains thick with tension.
Thank the heavens Father is no longer here.
I’ve never seen him so enraged. If not for the Don, he would have wrung my neck for humiliating him in front of the entirelafamiglia.
“You should be happy. You don’t have to marry Conti now,” Mia says cheerfully.
Of the five of us, she’s always been the boldest, facing challenges head-on. But even she wouldn’t dare disobey our father. After Isa and me, she’ll be next to be married off.
Mammashoots me a worried glance. “The Contis will never accept you now. And your father will have a hell of a time securing another match for you. It’ll make finding husbands for your sisters harder too. He’ll be unbearable.”
She rubs her forehead, the furrows deepening, if that’s even possible.
I hadn’t thought about any of that. While I’m relieved my marriage prospects have taken a nosedive, the fallout from my father’s wrath wasn’t on my mind.
This is going to be ugly. I just know it.
I feel awful having dragged my sisters andmammainto this mess.
“I don’t ever want to get married,” Ariana, the youngest of my sisters, says, chewing on an apple. She’s only fourteen and dreams of becoming a vet or a zookeeper.
“Hush now,”Mammaadmonishes.
“It’s not like you’ll have a choice,” Sienna, who’s sixteen and already disillusioned about the life of women in the Mafia, replies at the same time.
“I’m sorry,mamma,” I say, my stomach twisting with remorse. “I never wanted to make your life harder.”
Knowing Father, he’ll blame her for what happened today because she never gave him a son. As if that was her fault.
She shakes her head, forcing a smile. “Getting sick was beyond your control, Mari. What’s done is done. We’ll deal with it.”
Her tone isn’t as convincing as she would like her words to be.
I hang my head. She’s scared, because of me. She’s the one who’ll take the brunt of Father’s anger.
“Girls, we need to go. Say goodbye to your sister.” She claps her hands, her telltale sign for us to get into gear.
She steps closer and holds me by the shoulders, kissing my cheek.
“The dust will settle on this. Give it a few weeks and people will forget. Having you in Rome will help. Keep your head down.”
