Chapter 2 — Part Of The Sin

Allegra

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Ugh, I was so irritated with these stubborn waves! I've been trying to tame them for what feels like hours, but they just won't listen to me. Every time I think I've got them under control, they spring right back into their wild, unruly state. It's like they have a mind of their own!

Frustrated with the situation, I yanked my hair back and secured it into an overly tight ponytail, causing a throbbing ache to pulse through my head.

I decided to dress up a bit today, usually, I just throw some clothes on and leave for college but today it was Lorenzo Vitelli—the Cosa Nostra's enforcer's daughter's christening.

Now that I've hit twenty-one, my mother is on my case about dressing up, as if that's the only way someone will notice me and ask me to marry them. Can't she just let me enjoy my life without bringing up this outdated and sexist idea that my only value is in my appearance?

According to the Cosa Nostra standards, I was quite old as most girls were married off at the age of eighteen. Some weren't even allowed to continue their studies. If it wasn't for my grandfather, I also would have been married off by now. Thanks to him, I can focus on my career and build a better future for myself.

I wore a full-sleeved ankle-length dress and propped the strap of my handbag over my shoulder before getting out of my room.

I made my way to the kitchen to see grandpa enjoying his morning coffee while my mama rambled on and on about finding me a husband of good stature.

"I cannot believe you're still not getting it, Papa Linus! The doctors have already given up on you, and God knows how much time you have left. My point here is crystal clear—if Allegra manages to find herself a husband who is suitable for her, we'll have another man in the house to look out for us. The Cosa Nostra is not kind to women who don't have a male figure in their lives, and this is exactly why we need to take action now!"

"Good morning," I interrupted, grandpa's eyes twinkled with delight as they fell on me and my mother just turned her face the other way towards the stove like she usually does when I'm around unless she wants something from me.

"Good morning, my sweet, have you had a good night's sleep?" grandpa asked.

I smiled at him, "I slept peacefully through the night."

"Of course, you did..." my mother let out a slight scoff.

My throat constricted, and my relationship with my mother has always been tumultuous. Her strict adherence to Christianity left little room for anything else, and she rarely displayed any emotion other than irritation and rage. Over time, I grew accustomed to her behavior, but so did my grandfather, but the tension never truly dissipates.

"So, when is the christening of little Aurora?" I asked, my hand reaching for my grandfather's wrinkly weak ones.

"This afternoon," he answered, squeezing my hand back for assurance.

"I'll be there..."

My mother finally turned, putting a plate of scrambled eggs before me with a loud slam, "Yes, you will be. A lot of high-status men will be attending that christening and I want you to be on your best behavior. I want you to engage, and socialize a little. Refrain from showing off your education. We wouldn't want them thinking you're too smart for your own good, now would we? So just be sure to dumb yourself down. After all, we wouldn't want any of those La Cosa Nostra men to feel inferior to their wives now, would we? Heaven forbid."

As soon as mama turned to face the other side again, I rolled my eyes with exasperation and that made grandpa laugh. Mama turned and squinted her eyes at me before marching out of the kitchen altogether.

After having breakfast and sharing a few more joes with Grandpa, I stepped out of the house and took a bus to my best friend's house. Chiara Romano lived on the upper east side where all the other high-status members of the La Cosa Nostra lived. Even though grandpa made enough money from the church—Capo was very generous with him—he donated most of it to charities.

So, after stuffing my face with breakfast and chatting with Grandpa for a bit longer, I hopped on a bus to visit my best friend Chiara Romano. Her place was on the upper east side where all the fancy people from La Cosa Nostra resided.

We weren't poor, Grandpa was doing pretty well for himself thanks to Capo's generosity, but he still preferred to give most of his earnings to charitable organizations and if I was in his place I'd do the same.

I've always been cool with a simple life. I never needed fancy stuff to make me happy - the little things always did the trick. I used to think, you know, what's the point in chasing money and things when they don't actually bring happiness? Real happiness comes from living a purposeful life with passion. That's why I never cared about having a big house or anything like that. The good stuff in life can be found in the small, simple things.

I took the elevator up to her apartment and then made my way straight to her room. Chiara and I grew up together, she used to live in our neighborhood before her father got a big promotion from the capo and they moved here.

Chiara's mother met me in the living room with a big smile, she hugged me and told me that she was in her bedroom.

I beelined to her bedroom and flung open the door startling Chiara out of whatever she was doing. She immediately shut off her laptop's screen.

I squinted my eyes as I made my way to her and sat on her bed beside her, "What were you doing?"

She rolled her eyes before snapping it open once more. Different pictures of the underboss came to life, Chiara not only had the biggest crush on him, but she was also his number one stalker.

"Do you think he is ready to settle down yet?" she asked, playing with her finger as she moved to another one of his pictures. This one was with a beautiful model, it was from the last year's charity event.

"I don't know, I'm not the one who keeps tabs on his every move but he is going to be at the enforcer's daughter's christening in the afternoon, and guess who is invited," I said with a proud grin.

She perked up, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and shaking me from side to side, "Please, tell me you're allowed a plus one."

I made a face, "I don't think so."

She visibly deflated back in her bed before I elbowed her side, "I'm kidding, why do you think I came here in the first place?"

She shrieked up from the bed, running to her closet, probably to look for the perfect clothes. I followed her inside and saw her taking out a few dresses that were the least church friendly.

"Friendly reminder, I don't think any of your clothes are church friendly."

"Oh yeah, because I always dress to impress the church. Skin is the new Sunday best, didn't you know?" She rolled her eyes and scanned me from head to toe, clearly unimpressed.

I sighed, "But we have to respect the church too, Chiara."

She scowled, "Allegra, I'm gonna nail the underboss tonight and trust me, he's all about that skin baby! No room for those dull layers you church ladies clings to."

Chiara always found it amusing to make jokes at my expense, but I didn't want to let it get to me. It used to hurt me when I was a teenager a few years ago but I never let on. Instead, I learned to let it roll off my back and carry on with my day. I've learned that sometimes the best response is no response at all.

I sighed, standing beside her in the mirror, "Mama wants me to find a husband today, any tips?"

She shrugged, tweezing her eyebrows, I winced I remember the pain of going through all this. I remembered the pain of excessive hair growth all too well. I used to be so self-conscious, feeling like Chewbacca from Star Wars. But now, thanks to laser treatment, I don't have to worry about it anymore.

"Just aim lower and you'll be fine," she advised.

I snorted, "What?"

I sucked in a deep breath, mentally shielding myself from what was coming.

"Oh, you want a guy who'd actually go for you? Good luck with that! Maybe aim for someone with lower standards, like a desperate soldier or something. Even if that means compromising on everything else."

I couldn't help but dread the direction this was headed in, even though it was an all too familiar scenario, I approached it with a sense of humor. Trying to justify my physical appearance or reacting negatively to Chiara's jabs seemed like a pointless exercise in futility, which only worsened my insecurity. Instead, I opted to go along with her jests as it was far more convenient than the distress caused by an argument.

I passed her a sweet smile, "Thanks for the advice."

She shrugged, "Love ya, babe."

"Love you too," that was true, I loved my childhood best friend too much to let these stupid things get between us.

We spent the morning at her apartment, looking for dress after dress until she found one. She had no problem in the asset department that the underboss seemed to like too much. I only have extensive knowledge about the underboss because of her, she is an ass man—not my words but Chiara's but he also likes big busts too. Even though Chiara had big breasts, she still stuffed them with things to make them look even bigger.

Even after I warned her a couple of times, Chiara still opted for a little white dress with spaghetti straps. I handed her my scarf to cover up a bit because she can't walk out of her apartment like this in front of her brother—who was also a made man.

We made our way to her car and she drove us to the church. She parked and we stepped out of the car. Her eyes roamed around for the underboss's car before she found it and laughed with glee. I laughed with her, it was cute how much she was excited to see him.

We entered the church, and a lot of guests have already arrived. The underboss was standing with grandpa, whispering something to him and I could see how hard grandpa fought a smile from creeping up.

"Oh my god, my ovaries just freakin' exploded. Look at him, just look, Allegra."

As I observed the underboss, I couldn't help but notice his striking appearance. However, his actions and behavior made me feel disgusted and repelled by him. I was appalled by the way he exploited his physical appeal. How can anyone find such a man appealing, knowing how he conducts himself?

Being with such a person would make me constantly worry. How can someone share their life with an untrustworthy person without agonizing over their whereabouts or the possibility of them cheating? Undeniably, he had the body of a Greek god, but no degree of physical attractiveness can compensate for his immoral tendencies.

I shrugged, "He looks fine."

Chiara rolled her eyes, "Honey, he is more than fine. You are just bitter knowing you'll never have a chance with someone like him."

I laughed, "I don't want a chance with him at all. He is all yours."

The underboss' gaze flicked to us for a mere second before he gazed somewhere else. And Chiara completely lost it, she saw her chance and snatched my scarf off her shoulders. But her attention-grabbing move went horribly wrong when she tugged so hard that the delicate spaghetti straps on her dress snapped. Suddenly, her white bra was on display for all to see.

Not knowing what to do, I stepped in front of her. By the moment everyone turned to look at us, I had covered Chiara with my body. I handed her my scarf back and she immediately wrapped it around herself.

It was difficult to get out of there with only my little scarf and my body covering hers without flashing anyone.

"I told you to wear a jacket over the dress," I hissed through gritted teeth.

We went back out and went into the lady's room. I flung open the door and Chiara ran inside both of her hands over her chest, keeping her torn dress up.

"What do we do? What do we do, Allegra?!" she screamed.

"Don't worry, I'll figure out a way to fix it," I reassured her, trying my best to stay calm. Frantically thinking of a solution, I quickly suggested, "Let me text Santina, and she'll bring us a sewing kit. I can sew your dress back together, don't worry."

Santina was one of the clergywomen and I'm pretty sure she will have something to fix Chiara's dress. The minutes ticked by slowly, and soon, an hour had almost passed. We tried to remain patient, but our anticipation grew with each passing moment.

Chiara blew out a breath, "The ceremony must have ended by now, he must have left."

I glanced at her, "No, I'm sure they are still here."

Finally, a knock on the door resounded and I opened it to see Santina with a sewing kit, she handed it to me and I turned back to Chiara.

"Take off your dress," I told her and she slid out of it and handed it to me, standing in the ladies' room in only her underwear and bra.

We were in the middle of stitching up her straps when an abrupt banging echoed outside the door. Startled, we froze for a moment, unsure of what to do with Chiara standing half-naked. Without a second thought, we both sprinted toward one of the booths and hastily closed the door.

"You nasty nasty girl..." The sound of a deep male voice sent chills down my spine. Oh no, what is happening? Why would a man enter the lady's bathroom, especially in a church?

"Fucking rip my panties off!" the women screamed and we realized, oh my god, someone was doing uhm

it in the bathroom with us trapped inside this booth.

The next thing I heard was the ripping of fabric, I turned to Chiara and she seemed stunned, almost like she was about to cry.

"What?" I whisper-yelled.

"That's..." her voice came out thick and she cleared her throat inaudibly, "That's Scott."

We cautiously approached the closed door of the booth, terror gripped me as I hesitantly peeked through the small gap. The sight before me left me gasping for air - a scantily clad woman was forcefully pushed against the mirror, while the fully clothed underboss relentlessly thrust into her from behind. Even though his back was turned towards us, I could see his face reflected in the mirror.

"Praise the lord for this ass..." he said to her and she screamed even louder.

I swallowed, and my cheeks heated up. I had never seen something so sexually graphic in my whole life. I blinked, facing Chiara as she seemed so engrossed in what was happening outside the booth.

"Do you know the woman?" she whispered.

I again glanced through the gap and noticed the woman, I almost let out a scream but covered my mouth with Chiara's dress that was in my hands.

"That's Mrs. Gastone," I whispered back.

Mrs. Gastone was a respectable lady in our circle. Despite having three children and a very loving husband, she chose to have an affair with the underboss. The thought of how she was betraying her family made me feel sick to my stomach. I could not fathom why she would risk everything she had for a moment of pleasure. It was a clear betrayal of her family's trust and a shameful act. My respect for her had been shattered, and I could not look at her the same way again.

"Yes, YES! FUCKING RIP ME APART, BABY!" she screamed out.

I felt ashamed by her words. Clutching Chiara's dress to my chest, I closed my eyes, hoping for God's forgiveness for what I had witnessed.

All I could hear were the heavy grunts from the underboss and shrill screams from Mrs. Gastone. I felt ashamed to be in the same room as them, and my heart sank as I realized the gravity of the situation. What if someone found out about this?

"That's a good little whore, yes, baby, fuck, yes."

"Take it in your ass."

"Dirty bitch."

"Beg for cock."

The scene in front of me was unbearable, and I couldn't bear it anymore. My hands automatically covered my ears as the words penetrated my soul, and I felt like crying. Witnessing them committing a sin made me feel ashamed, and I couldn't bring myself to watch any longer. By just being present there, I felt like I was a part of their sin.

"I wonder what would it feel like if he did all those things to me..." Chiara whispered, still watching them through the gap.

I didn't say anything or replied to her. I was so stunned that my muscles stopped responding to my brain's commands.

"Get the fuck down on your knees," he ordered, and Mrs. Gastone probably did. And then a few moments later, I heard the underboss letting a strained groan almost as if he was in pain, "Swallow it."

Then Mrs. Gastone let out a laugh, "I didn't let a single drop go to waste, baby."

Their voices then stopped, I mustered up the courage and again peeked through the gap once more only to see them fixing their clothes.

"We should do this again..." Mrs. Gastone whispered, adjusting her bra back in place.

The underboss washed his hands before he raked his wet hands through his tousled hair, "I don't fuck the same woman twice. Now go home to your husband and kids, Gabriella. You wouldn't want him to find out about this, would you?" saying that he turned and walked out the bathroom as if nothing happened while leaving me traumatized for life.