Chapter 4

“I hope your Papa and Mama have filled you in on our contract.” Angelo remarked as soon as he joined the Viscolis at the far corner of the chapel, where they had been having a private conference. He emphasised the words “Papa and Mama”, imitating Moira’s voice, obviously in an unsavoury bid to mock her.

“Is that what a contract looks like in that pathetic little world of yours? In case you no longer realise it for what it really is, this is what we, the ordinary folk, call blackmail, Angelo. Why would you want to use a poor old couple for selfish gain? Haven’t you…” Moira charged at Angelo but her father quickly restrained her.

“Calm down and shut the hell up, Moira. All this drama will only get you into more trouble and make things unnecessarily complicated for all of us.” Isabella advised her daughter in a low whisper.

“I’d quickly drop that bitchy attitude if I were you, Moira. Angelo Manzini will certainly not tolerate such an out of control wife.” Angelo sarcastically referred to himself in second person. “So be a good wife or you’ll soon find out why everyone trembles at the sound of my voice; trust me, you don’t want to see that other side of me; but if you insist on upholding that behaviour you’ll certainly provoke the beast within me.” Angelo retorted, the tone of his face confirming the annoyance evident in his blue eyes.

“I’m not your wife. I’m just your hostage.” Moira mumbled.

“The contract… what’s the duration? For how long should we transport your stuff?” Mario took the discussion away from the awkward threats and bickering.

“Six months. For the amount of money you cost me the other time you should be doing it for a year or two. But because you’re now my in-laws… we’re family now… you just do it for a half year and we’ll call it even.” Angelo explained.

Moira and her parents exchanged glances that revealed the dejection that each of them felt. For Moira, six months with this loathsome man almost felt like a lifetime sentence of unending torment. Mario and Isabella Viscoli’s glances at each other however communicated more than dejection; there was also panic which neither Moira nor Angelo noticed.

“You and I are going to have a great six months, honey. You just…” Angelo exclaimed to break the silence.

Moira frowned and snarled angrily, “Don’t call me that, please. You have absolutely no right to call me ‘honey’. And… you mean… you mean… this nightmare is going to last 6 whole months?”

“What nightmare?” Angelo scoffed, intentionally teasing Moira in a distasteful manner.

“This sham of a marriage that you forced me into… when does it end? I get it that you want some stuff transported to cover whatever loses you accuse us of causing you. But do I have to be trapped in this hell hole for the entire six months?” Moira reasoned.

“Oh honey, you underestimate how valuable you are in this deal.” Angelo said, his face losing all expression, “Without you there’s no deal to talk about. So you’ll stay put. Six months; we’ll have a great time, you’ll see.”

Moira cringed. Hearing Angelo repeatedly call her ‘honey’ then confirming that she’d be trapped in his filthy presence – away from Tony- for half a year was simply heart-breaking.

There was a silent interval, during which advice was silently exchanged by the Viscolis via eye contact.

“So, after the six months are up, what happens? You let me go right? I have to get back to my boyfriend so I need to know what exactly to expect?” Moira enquired.

Angelo simply shrugged.

“How does that work? You realise that even this sham of a marriage actually is legal, right? We will have to divorce… you have to give me your word that you will sign the divorce papers without any drama. Can we at least agree on that one simple thing?” Moira voiced.

“Slow your roll, woman! There will not be a divorce. When the deal is done, we get an annulment; so don’t get over-excited with the D-word, OK? I’ll get the annulment sorted out, don’t worry about that.” Angelo exclaimed. “And let’s be clear about one thing, you go out of this marriage exactly the same way you came in… with nothing but your pretty face. I’m not giving up any of my assets over this arrangement; so don’t get any divorce settlement ideas. Understood?” Angelo added pompously.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Angelo. I have zero interest in anything that has your name on it. I’m not your usual kind of girl who’s only after your ill-gotten money…” Moira rebuked Angelo angrily and would have served him an insult or two had her mother not restrained her.

“Is that all you wanted to know? We better get moving, I have important work to do and you’ve already wasted enough of my precious time.” Angelo remarked sarcastically, completely ignoring Moira’s angry remarks.

“During the six months… will there be… you know…” Mario said as he waved his finger from Moira to Angelo; too shy to ask his question directly and resorting to using make-shift sign language.

“You said you’ll be living like husband and wife; will there be boundaries… limits to that?” Isabella weighed in.

“I expect a wife… in every aspect of that sort of relationship. What’s confusing about that?” Angelo grimaced.

“Hang on; stop right there, Mr Manzini! If you think this bogus contract marriage will grant you a free pass into my pants then you’re more deranged than I imagined. You said it yourself; I don’t leave your house with anything that I didn’t come in with… remember? Even a person with a pea brain will understand that it includes your DNA; so no sex and no sharing a bed or bedroom. We live in the same residence, that’s as physically close as we’ll ever get, as far as I’m concerned. I’m just a hostage and I can’t risk having your child, too… to constantly remind me of this nightmare.” Moira objected vehemently.

“Oh, that’s what you’re trying to say? Come on, I don’t have time for your nonsense either, missy. Girls like you.. bitchy girls like you… are just full of crap and I certainly don’t need them in my busy life, either. So don’t worry, I’ll certainly not be having any steamy dreams about you anytime soon, honey.” Angelo deliberately said it in an insulting manner.

“This is going to be the longest six months of my life. Really, how am I going to get over this arrogance and… Arghhh! This is the worst punishment ever!” Moira lamented she gathered the train of her wedding gown into her arms before running out of the chapel, hoping to find Tony so she could explain the sticky situation they’d fallen into.

“Oh, one more thing, “Angelo said to Mario and Isabella before going after his bride, “I really hope you’re not planning on visiting often. I don’t usually entertain riff raff at my house.”