Page 132 of Beauty and the Mafia Boss

“And how do I fit into this story?”

“The company your grandfather bought is very important for La Santa. Mr. Coppeline paid dearly for the information that Vittorio wanted it and closed the deal before La Santa could do it.”

Alina makes no sense to me again. What kind of revenge is this that comes down to buying companies? Perhaps I had spent too long living among the men and women of Sagrada, but what kind of compensation for the loss of a daughter could buying and selling businesses bring?

“Vittorio knew he wouldn't be able to get his hands on the company by offering money to your grandfather, so he offered you as payment.” She resumes her explanation, making sense again, and I want to bang my head against the wall to put an end to the chaos inside it. “Your grandfather thought you were dead, Gabriella, murdered along with your mother.”

“What?”

“She was pregnant when she disappeared. Nine months pregnant.”

“She disappeared?”

“And was never found.”

“And how do you know that she was really murdered?”

“Vittorio's father was the leader of La Santa, at the time, he and your grandfather were having some disagreements.Francesco Cataneo wanted to teach Mr. Coppeline a lesson, but apparently La Santa has held you hostage all this time, waiting to use you when it's most convenient. That was why Vittorio started showing you off publicly.” And the making sense ships sails off and sinks again.

La Santa held me captive? For God's sake, this woman has no idea how I spent my eighteen years. The part about Vittorio starting to show me off, however, matches what I know. The Don himself told me that I had become useful, he just never explained to me how. The question remains: was he preparing to sell me?

“Was I going to be sold?” I ask out loud, and Alina nods.

“But your grandfather got tired of Vittorio's mind games and decided to rescue you.”

“Vittorio gave up on selling me?”

“Of course not, don't be silly! He was probably just having fun torturing your grandfather.” Or me.

It's impossible to stop my mind from going on an endless loop, reliving moments and words in search of evidence of legitimacy or falsity in the story being told to me.

I start with the night in Rome, I remember the way Vittorio pushed Coppeline away. I also remember something that at the time didn't seem like a big deal to me, but now I don't know: the look that Vittorio exchanged with Dario as soon as Coppeline walked away. Was it a confirming look? In doubt? Of what?

Since that day, so many other things have happened. Could it be that, in fact, it was all just temporary fun for Vittorio? Was he using my body as he apparently intended to use my face to get what he wanted? The man who took over my life in Brazil would be perfectly capable of doing such a thing.

But what about the one I've since met? The one who marked me in every possible way declared his possession over me and made promises to me, would this man be able to still use me in this way? A violent contraction in my brain makes my head throb with pain.

Vittorio knows that I'm not the granddaughter of this Coppeline, if he handed me over to the man, it wouldn't cost him anything. I don't know if La Santa was actually responsible for the death of the woman, they are declaring to be my mother, but I am absolutely certain that they have not held me captive for the last eighteen years.

“I didn't spend my life hostage to La Santa, Alina. Vittorio didn't know me until very recently,” I say, and she clicks her tongue before making a pout with her lips.

“That's what they wanted you to think. If you knew your origins, you would have looked for your grandfather sooner,” she says with conviction, and it is impossible to contain the hopelessness spreading in my chest. It's like talking to a wall, worse, it's like talking to a religious fanatic from a cult like those that locks people in bunkers. “But now you are free, Gabriella. Your grandfather rescued you.”

“Free...” I whisper, feeling my heart bleed at this simple idea, and, in an automatic reflex, I bring my hand to my neck, now empty.

“Finally! Now you are starting to understand.” Alina claps excitedly, completely misunderstanding the way I feel. I tilt my head, observing her undeniable madness, wondering if she has a story, if she was always like this or something led her to this.

“And what will happen to me? What exactly was I rescued for?” I ask. “If I'm free, why can't I leave?”

“What do you mean for what? To be part of this family, duh.”

“You and Mr. Coppeline?”

“Exactly. But you're young, Gabriella, your role is to grow it,” she declares, and a shiver runs down my spine.

The fanatical speech combined with the idea of fertility that her words invoke makes my eyes widen. Cult. Was Vittorio about to sell me to a cult that wanted me as some kind of breeder?

“H-how?” I stutter the one-word question.

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