WHO IS GABRIELLA I
POV ACE VICENTE
Sometimes some things are meant to be seen and not heard, other times they are for the ears alone. Today I saw a beauty a beauty that should be left alone, untouched and unbound. This beauty had the look of everything in one and yet nothing at all, so much so that the thought of having her burdened me. It was such a battle to display constraint, to watch, see, look, but not touch. It was torture yet pleasure to be in her midst for the first ever time. Caputo di Santiago must have fought the entire world to keep her safe and away from the hands of men. He was one of my most trusted men and yet I had no knowledge of her. Her name rung like a reverberating triangle in my ears, a name suited just for her, and in that moment, I swore that the name Gabriella would be as popular as Ace Vicente, and oh it would be a complement or a testament to the force and grace that came with my name. Boy, I wanted her, no, I needed her, I needed her very essence to be close to mine. It was barely three minutes of setting my eyes on her and I was already obsessing over her. I haqd become a slave. I found myself adjusting my clothes, walking like a shy teenage boy behind Titi, holding firmly to a tommy gun and trying so hard to remind myself that I am the boss.
Connelly and his Irish brothers followed behind; they took short strides so as not to get ahead of me. I thought he, Connelly handled the situation well. I could tell that he saw me folding like a boy, but what sort of boss could not to a simple girl in a blue dress? "She is a beauty is she not?" asked Connelly, "Beauty is an insult to that woman mister Connelly. This one is a handsome woman. As we walked towards her, she and the other two women walked towards us till we met halfway. She seemed polite and approachable, but had a frightening feel about her, like a puppy to a child, like milk to a lactose intolerant fool like me. I wanted to approach. But I feared the consequences that might befall me. She was calm and spoke well, maintaining eye contact. No woman had ever been able to do that with me. Well except from Helena and she is drowning somewhere in the Venice canal with a two chain the size of a full-grown man cuffed to her feet. It has been five sorry years since Helena and I know for sure that seeing this woman now, could be the start of something special. "Don Vicente," she said, her ocean blue eyes steering mine to hers, "I bring a good word from my brother Caputo. He is well." It was too much. She was the messenger of the devil sent to me by a possible god to send me down to hell just like Helena. If I walked away now, I would save myself from impending harm.
What on earth did I need love for anyway, have you seen those who are in love? They are a sick little bunch of reckless lunatics. Those who are in love are desperate, too desperate that they sell themselves short always and throw dignity of self away in the name of love. I choose not to believe in it. That a man like me will fall for another fool of a woman who may toy with my head and for what, mere emotions?
Five years, five years it took me to stop loving and hating that woman even in death. Five years of thoughtless horrors of baseless anxiety and flashing dark lights. Five years of fighting to win my soul back and when I finally had me to myself, this, she shows up from nowhere.
No. I will not walk this path again. For once, I loved nothing, and I loved it. Love was a poison, a disease that you could never heal from, a sham on a hill with rainbows and dicks and vaginas wrapped in gold. I was happy that I did not love anything, those who loved were insane, willing to ruin everything for nothing. And they did not even know.
No. I was not going to put myself through such horrors anymore. I was going to be strong and put my will first.
The other women spoke softly and almost obediently as they were asked to. They had been sent by their husbands to tell me the same, that they were well. Now this here was a tradition I had coined. I did not trust a man without a family that is loyal to him. A wife must support her husband and she must know about his whereabouts no matter what. My men needed to be accountable to me and their families. I knew all the wives of the men. All of them, and they knew me as well. But I would not respond to her (Gabriella), the other women got theirs, but not her as a word to her had the power to break my will.