Amelia
I starred at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, and I could hardly recognize myself. It was as though a stranger was staring back at me. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with air and holdingit there, until my lungs started to burn, urging me to breathe out. When I finally exhaled, instead of the calmness I was desperately seeking to wash over me, hot tears spilled out of my eyes, running down my cheeks, and my heart squeezed tight behind my ribcage.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to pull my hair. I wanted to do anything just to let out the frustration and despair that coursed through me. But I could not do any of that. I did not want to alarm anyone of the struggles I was going through. Not that anybody near me was going to care. And again, I did not want to ruin the braiding that the stylist had worked so tirelessly to perfect.
Salvatore Conti had made it clear that I was expected to be nothing short of perfect. And my new role in life was following through each and every command Salvatore gives with precision , unless I wanted "something unfortunate to happen to my family." If I faltered, I could only imagine what he would do to my family. Salvatore had a reputation; I had no doubt he would kill my father without blinking. And my little brother Ben, I did not even want to think of it.
So, instead of letting my emotions get the better of me, I let my head drop and hang below my shoulders and allowed a few more tears to rush out of my eyes, hoping they would dry out and enable me to walk out of my refuge and eventually face my reality
"Amelia," a voice called out from behind the closed bathroom, followed by a loud knock on the door and a rattle of the doorknob.
The sudden interruption startled me and my heart skipped a beat.
"Amelia, it's time; you need to come out, right now!" the voice insisted, and that is when it registered in my head whose voice it was.
It was Calliope, one of Salvatore's minions, and she had been assigned to "take care of me," and by taking care of me, they meant making sure I looked exactly how Salvatore wanted me to look for the day. The woman had worked tirelessly, probably exceeding her job description, barking and shouting orders at everyone.
I cleared my throat in an attempt to swallow the lump that sat there before I answered, "I will be out in a sec,"
"Be fast," she snapped, her impatience recking through the closed door.
With a heavy sigh, I grabbed the paper towel and gently dabbed it on my face, carefully drying the tears on my face and making sure I did not rub off or smudge the make up on my face. Thanks to the expensive stuff that was used, it worked just fine, and nothing looked ruined.
I looked at myself in the mirror one last time, and I looked perfect. I was the polished bride Salvatore had requested for. And inside? Inside, I was a kid clawing on the sand on her mother's grave.
"Amelia!" Calliope called out impatiently once more, and another jolted and immediately walked to the door to unlock it.
"I am sorry, I just wanted a few moments to myself," I explained once I was out of my hiding space.
Her gaze swept over me, her eyes inspecting every inch of me, from head to toe. She took a step towards me and fixed something in my hair before stepping back again.
"Perfect," she declared after she was satisfied with her art, "Now try not to look like it is the end of the world. You are marrying Salvatore Conti, one of the most powerful men in New York. Any girl would kill to be in your position."
It would have been better if it was the end of world, because then it will be the end of everything. Then I would not have had to sell myself to the devil himself. I was not any girl; I was Amelia Banks and I did not want to get married to this man but I dared not say that out loud. Calliope worked for Salvatore, and from the looks of it she was as cold hearted as her boss and she probably looked up to him. I had no doubt she was loyal to him, any mistake from me, she was going to run and tell her boss.
So, instead of protesting, I slowly nodded my head, as if I agreed with her.
"Now put a smile on that pretty face," she instructed and I moved my lips to make the said smile and she grimaced.
"You certainly can do better than that," she said, "If you are...,"
Just then, a knock interrupted her little speech.
"Yes, Come in!" she called out and a man in a black suit walked in. I recognized her as one of Salvatore's men.
"Enzo," Calliope said, "Is it time?"
The man nodded curtly, "Yes, bring her out now."
"Sure," Calliope responded and Enzo turned to leave.
"Forget about smiling, just stop looking so miserable," she ordered again and went on to help me with my dress as she ushered me out of the room.
She led me through the hallway until we got to the elevator that whisked us down to the lobby. She helped me lift my dress as we walked to the white Rolls-Royce that had been waiting for us.
Two men in black suits similar to the one Enzo had stood by the car and once we reached the car, the doors were opened and Calliope helped me in. She was acting as my maid of honor, and yet she came second on the list of the people I hated, right after her boss.
The drive to the reception was short since it was within the expansive grounds of the Conti Estate, and it did not give me much time to get myself together. Before I knew it, the car had come to a halt, and I was being ushered out of the car into the scorching sun of July. My father was standing in front of me, looking like he had actually taken a shower for a change.
"Amelia," he said, his eyes avoiding direct contact with mine, looking everywhere else except my eyes.
He was the reason why we have gotten to that point, and deep down, I blamed him for every bit of our predicament. If it had not been for his distracting habits and foolish decisions, we would not have gotten there. Ever since my mother died, he changed into a completely different man I did not recognized. I was sixteen at that time, and my little brother was only two years old. I was just a teenager who wanted the only parent she had left with to be there for her and comfort her through the misery. Instead I had found myself stuck with a father who drowned his sorrow in the bottle, leaving me to look after my little brother and assure him everything was going to be alright with our mother gone.
I had hoped that our father was merely a phase of grieving since he had loved our mother to the marrow and I had hoped that he was eventually going come around. But that never happened. It only got worse. I had lost count of the times that I had to drag his drunk self out of The Shadow Lounge. What began as a drinking problem grew into a gambling addiction, and the gambling addiction turned into financial ruin, and the father I knew totally vanished. I was only left with the good memories I had of him to hold on to and those memories made me hang on the hope that one day I will get the loving father back and we will be a happy family again. But life never goes the way we plan for it to.
He had borrowed money from Salvatore and had blown it all out either on the gambling table or on a bottle of alcohol. The day Salvatore busted the doors to our rundown house, I had recognized him, and immediately I had known we were in trouble. I had seen him in one of the casinos run by the Red Vipers family, and I knew his reputation. He was not a nice man. A man who had made advances me on several occasions, but I had always found a way to walk away from him.
"Hello, angel," he had greeted me, and I coiled and stepped back, keeping my eyes on him. If I was not so worried about my father, I would have fled without hesitation. Instead, I stayed in the corner, clutching little my brother tightly in my arms.
Salvatore's attention turned to my father.
"Banks, I am sure you know what I am here for."
My father, who was already shaking with fear, tried to answer but he could not make a coherent sentence.
"Where is my money, Banks?" Salvatore growled, his voice booming through out the room, making the thin walls of our house shake.
"I...I don't have it right now," my father stammered
"You don't have my money, Banks?"
"But I will have it soon, I promise,"
I knew my father had gotten himself in debt. I had paid some of them off myself when the lenders came banging on our door, but I had no idea he had borrowed from Salvatore Conti. If there is one thing I had learnt from living in this part of the town, it was never to borrow from the mafia. I had no idea how my father had become so stupid.
"And how are you going to get my 3 million dollars soon?"
I grasped as I heard the amount he owed. I knew very well that there was no way my father could raise such an amount and there was no way I could make that much either, even if I worked around the clock. As it only two lousy jobs. One at the bar, and the other at the supermarket, and neither paid well.
My father opened and closed his mouth without saying a thing.
"If I can't have my 3 million, then maybe I can have something you have," Salvatore suggested and I wondered what my father had that he would want. We had nothing!
And when his gaze met mine, I knew exactly what he meant and I immediately shouted, "No!"
"No?" he echoed my word as if he had not heard me and nodded my head to confirm.
"Yes, no. You cannot have me,"
"Then would you rather I take your brother?" He proposed, a sinister smile on his face as he walked towards me.
In that moment, that is when I realized that I should have run away while I still could. I should not have waited for my father to come around; he never was going to.
If only I had left and taken my brother with me, I would not have had to sacrifice myself to the devil so I could save the ones I loved.
My wedding was far cry from the vision I held in my mind since I was a little girl. I had always envisioned myself getting married to the love of my life at the beach, surrounded by our family and friends in beautiful floral dresses and floral shirts. But there I was, engulfed in a sea of unfamiliar faces, marrying a man I despised more than anyone in the world, in a vineyard on his estate. I had no doubt that our wedding guest list consisted of members of The Bandoni Crime Family, or La Famiglia Bandoni as they fancied to call it, corrupt government officials and their business associates. None of these people cared about the couple getting married; they were there for business.Different people approached us, congratulating us. All these congratulations messages should have been directed solely at Salvatore. He was the one who had finally gotten what he wanted. And as for me, they should have been offering me their condolences since I might as well have just signed my own death noti
When I opened my eyes, my head was throbbing and my body felt heavy, and I wondered why it was so. It took me a while to recall the shootout at the wedding and the green-eyed guy injecting me something after he carried me to his car. Even though my body was screaming in pain and would have appreciated some rest, I needed to get up. My father could have died in that shootout, and Ben might be in danger since he was at Salvatore's house during the shootout. I needed to get up and figure out where I was and then look for my family. I wondered how much time had passed. Ben needed to take his medication. He had type 2 diabetes, and it was never good for him to skip medication. With me away from him, I was not sure if that happened.I sat up straight before opening my eyes. A sharp pain stuck my head and I held my head in my palms, trying to contain the headache. When the ache toned down, I looked around and the room I was in was completely lifeless. Just the bed and nothing else I jumpe
I found myself lounging on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through the channels on the TV, trying to find something that could distract me until Salvatore arrives. Never had I imagined that I would wait for the husband I hated to come home, but there I was, hoping he walks through the door. Hours later, I heard Alessandro calling out my name, and I looked up, seeing him walking into the room. Why was he looking for me now? He had made it clear that he was not interested in having a conversation with me whatsoever.“Yes?” I replied.“Time to leave,” he answered and I frowned.“Where are we going? Is my family okay?” I asked instead,“I am taking you where your husband wants you and as for your precious family, you can ask him when you meet him.”“You didn't…,” I started, but he cut me off.“Get up. I don't have time to answer your questions and neither do have the answers,” he snapped.He might not look like his father, and he might not emanate his father's energy, but he surely was n
Alessandro's POVI was born and raised in the Bandoni Famiglia. And even though I despised the life in the famiglia, I had known from the very start that my fate was sealed within that life. Once you were in, there was no other way out. Guns, blood, and murder were not mere words to me. I had witnessed them since I was born. They were all part of the everyday life of the famiglia and they all made my stomach churn. That is why I decided to hide completely behind the computer.To my father's disappointment, while the other boys were fighting in The Underground, a fight club owned by The Bandoni Famiglia, I was locked up in my room, working on breaking an encryption code of a random company or website. The times you would find me at The Underground were after my father would have dragged me there and forced me into a fight."You need to toughen up and fight like a man," he always insisted.Most of the time I ended up sprawled on the ground, with a bleeding nose and bruises all over my
Amelia's POV3 Months LaterBeing Salvatore’s wife had come with a rigid and outrageous set of rules. But I had tried my best to follow through with the precision of a well-trained solider. I was the obedient wife, following his every command like his soldiers did. I did not put up any fight, and neither did I complain about anything. He wanted s*x; I opened my legs and gave it to him however he wanted it. He wanted an arm candy, I called the stylist and adored myself in designer clothes, plastered my face with make-up, and smiled at everyone until my jaws ached. He wanted to lure a partner during dinner, I sat next to him, acting pretty. I did everything that was expected of me.But somehow, somewhere, I ended up being on the wrong side, and he never failed to show his disapproval. A slap across my face or a punch was his preferred way to communicate his disapproval. I had lost count of the times Calliope had to treat bruises and the times she had to cover black eyes with tonnes of
Alessandro' POV I parked my car in front of my father's house and stepped out. He had been breathing down my neck, demanding that I had to meet him. I knew what it was about. He wanted to make sure I was going to take the oath on the next initiation night, confirming my place within the famiglia. His position in the famiglia was already being challenged since I, his only heir, was being reluctant to take on duties in the family. And what he wanted was to maintain his position in famiglia. The mafia was very traditional, and inheritance mattered a whole lot more than you would expect it to be in the 21st century.Was I going to take the oath?Yes. I was. There was no running away from that. Was I ever going to be really part of the famiglia? Not if I could help it. I walked through the doors and passed a number of guards standing watch. They were more than the usual number and seemed to be more alert too. I guess the attack on his wedding night had made him anxious and paranoid.
Alessandro's POVI got to my penthouse and went straight into my bathroom to wash off my father's wife's blood from my body. I discarded my clothes in the trash can and took a bath, making a mental note that I needed to take my Mesarati to the car wash. It was my favorite.After I was done, I went into my study. I was working on the security system for a research company in the UK, and I thought I could work on that since I was not feeling sleepy even though it was already 2am. I tried to concentrate on my computer, but my mind kept drifting back to Amelia. The haunting images of her frail body on the floor, in the back seat of my car and her on the stretcher bed were etched in my head. The sound of her whimpers echoed in my mind, refusing to fade away.Amelia had made her choices, and now she was suffering the consequences of her involvement with my father. I was not supposed to be feeling any empathy for her; she was a willing victimI sighed, trying to push my thoughts aside and f
Alessandro's POVMy father, seeing that I was not going to back out of our staring competition, placed his fork and knife in his plate, took a wet wipe, and wiped his hands.“Meet me in my office right away,” he ordered, throwing the wet wipe on the plate before standing up and leaving the room.I watched him walk out, and I remained sitting. I might as well have had a well-prepaid breakfast if I was going to face my father. And, oh, also talk to my father’s wife, who was now looking up and at me with a frown on her face.“Amelia,” I softly said.“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice gruff.“How are you feeling? Are you okay?” I asked, ignoring her question.She looked around, and I wondered what it was for. Her gaze returned to me, worry written on her face.“Please stop that. You are going to get me in trouble,” she said, and I realized that my question was innocent but not in my father’s house. It had the power to get her into trouble, and she had been checking if anybody