VIOLA
Present day
I was numb, not knowing what to feel. Mother handed me wedding gown after wedding gown to try on but not one looked flattering on me. Maybe it was my lack of enthusiasm or the world's way of telling me marriage would be catastrophic.
But what could I do but get married? My father would find me and kill me if I ran away or resisted marriage.
"You're getting a little fat. That's why none of the wedding dresses look good on you." Mother commented, frustrated.
The designer gasped but I remained stoic for two reasons. One, I wasn't supposed to react, and two, I was used to her body-shaming comments.
Sure, I had a pear-shaped body but I wasn't fat. Mother just hated that I had curves. Despite my slender figure and slim waist, she didn't let a day pass by without reminding me I needed to lose more weight.
She didn't stop at her first comment. She continued, saying, "You need to eat less. I can't have you looking like a pig on your wedding day."
The designer looked very uncomfortable. Surely, she must have been used to mothers talking to their daughters like that.
I knew deep down it was wrong and most mothers didn't treat their kids like that. However, I also knew there was nothing I could do about it.
"I can customize her wedding dress. It will be gorgeous and everyone will want to look like her on their wedding days. I guarantee that the design will be unique and stunning." She said.
The wedding planner, Hannah Brown, stood from where she was sitting and approached the three of us. She had been listening the whole time.
"How soon can you have it ready?"
"In five weeks—"
"Three weeks. I'll be back to get it after three weeks."
"That's too soon! I have other projects to do as well. Even five weeks is pushing it."
Hannah wasn't having it. Maybe it's what made her so good at her job. She never backed down and she always got what she wanted. She had been hired by the groom, a man whose name I was too afraid to utter.
That was how dangerous the rumors claimed he was. And I was going to spend the rest of my life by his side.
"I'll pay you extra to drop every other project and work on this one. Money is not a problem. This wedding has to be perfect."
The designer's eyes widened and I could have sworn I saw dollar signs in her eyes. She was mentally calculating how much money she was going to be paid.
My future husband was sparing no expense for the ceremony.
"I'll design the dress."
"Great. Once you come up with the design—which I hope is by the end of today, I want you to send it to me and Mrs. Agosti. We will decide if it flattering or not."
What about me?
No one cared about what I wanted. Even if they did, I didn't own a phone—I never had. My father believed that women were stupid and naïve.
He always told us if he got my sister and me phones, we would be taken advantage of by creeps online because we didn't know better. My brother, on the other hand, owned a phone.
He was four years younger than me.
And maybe Father was right. Maybe I would have fallen in love with a creep online living in his mother's basement. But, I knew the real reason I wasn't allowed a phone was so Antonio could control me.
The designer looked at me with eyes full of pity but she didn't say anything. I didn't expect her to. She was getting paid loads of money to design the dress, not caring whether or not the bride was happy.
After we left the wedding dress boutique with Mother, the three of us—including Hannah, went to a coffee shop since it was morning.
Mother and Hannah discussed the wedding, edging me out completely as if I wasn't the one who was going to walk down the alter and sign my name next to the name of a complete stranger.
It would be my name on the wedding certificate.
I would be Mrs. Mancini soon. The wife of the most feared and brutal capo in Italy, Nikolas Mancini. Rumors had it that he became a Made man at the age of twelve and that he'd crushed a man's skull with his hands when he was just eighteen.
What if he killed me in my sleep? What if he crushed my skull in his hands?
To say I was scared was an understatement. However. I did a good job of hiding it, just like my mother had taught me.
"…office next week." That was the last thing I heard before Hannah got up with her bag and left in a hurry. Before she reached the exit, her phone was already ringing. She was one busy woman.
She was the best wedding planner in the organized crime world. Everyone knew she was discreet and she blurred moral lines often. She was just like every other person born in the mafia—riddled with sin.
"We're going to buy a dress for your engagement party tonight."
My head whipped in Mother's direction so fast that I almost broke my neck.
"Tonight?" I asked. Despite my calm tone, I was anything but. A swarm of emotions flooded through me. I knew I would have to meet my future husband before the wedding but I didn't think it was that soon.
I thought I had more time to prepare.
I was scared to the core. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that I was going to be sleeping next to a ruthless murderer for the rest of my life. I couldn't imagine giving myself to a madman.
"Yes. The Mancini Family decided to host it in their estate. They want everyone to know that the Cosa Nostra and the Camorra are coming together and putting aside their differences after years of rivalry."
Why was she telling me mafia business? She never did before.
"Okay…"
"You need to look your best. We wouldn't want the groom to call off the wedding when he sees you. We have to find a perfect look."
As we left, she grabbed my arm painfully, her perfectly manicured nails digging into my skin.
"I saw fear in your eyes when I mentioned the engagement party. My work of training you to be a perfect wife cannot be in vain. Pull yourself together, Viola before Angie suffers for your mistakes."
"It won't happen again, Mother," I answered almost robotically.
The rest of the day was spent walking around in my Giuseppe Zanotti heels with my mother looking for a perfect dress. One that would make me look seductive and sweep Nikolas 'The Beast' Mancini off his feet.
Me, I would rather have been invisible in his eyes. I would have rather he didn't notice me at all.
But wishes weren't horses and I was no beggar. I had to wear my fate with pride. Even if I was afraid it would be short-lived because of who I was getting married to.
When I got home, there was a team of beauticians waiting to transform me from a mafia princess to a future mafia queen.