Between Mafias

What was going to be the best night of my life; my wedding night, turns into hell.

I receive too much information. I now realize that I was completely ignorant and oblivious to everything. I had no idea that my family ran one of the biggest mafias, second only to my new husband's family.

He just confessed everything to me, in full detail because he doesn't care about me in the slightest, the only thing he cares about is humiliating my family.

- I know you are not to blame for anything, Angel - I hate that nickname he gave me - but in my world there is no place for love - he feels no pity or remorse even though he is breaking my heart right at this moment.

He stops the car in front of my father's house, someone has informed him of what has happened. His youngest daughter has secretly married his greatest enemy.

- Get in there and tell them that from tomorrow you are mine - he whispers caressing my cheek.

I will never be his. Not after what he's making me do. My father won't allow it.

- I am nobody's - I say closing the car door.

I walk quickly. I go through the gate that leads to the gardens, full of flowers and singing birds and I can only think about how my life is sinking little by little. The ring on my finger weighs tons and yet, I caught myself touching it and doing the spinning.

- Tell me it's not true - my brother runs up to me. He grabs my arm and pulls me into the house - tell me it's a joke, please.

I guess in the end, not only will it be the worst day of my life, it will also be the worst day of my family.

- Calm down, it's no big deal - I lie - we just got married.

He stops dead in his tracks and looks at me with hatred. What have I done? I fell in love and got married and after our wedding night he tells me it was all a hoax to hurt my family, how can they think they are worse off than me?

- What's not a big deal? What's not a big deal? What were you thinking?

- I'm not a child, I'm 25 years old and anyway you have to give me explanations too, don't you think?    - I raise my finger accusing him - Mafia? Really Paul?

He doesn't deign to answer, what's the point? Reality has been hitting hard, swallowing me in the abyss of drugs and murders. It's impossible for me to assimilate everything that's happening. I walk behind my brother by inertia to the door of my father's office. I take a deep breath and enter.

- Is this true? - He holds up a photograph of me dressed as a bride. I'm clutching Marcus's arm with the most radiant smile I've ever seen, he's smiling too, but it's just a pose, nothing was true.  

- Yes, father.

- You knew I had decided that you would marry one of my Russian investors and yet you have married this man, my enemy, behind my back am I right?

I made it very clear from the beginning that I wasn't going to marry any man I didn't know just because my father decided to, but apparently, I had no choice.

- By inverter you mean mafioso like you? - I accuse, crossing my arms.

My father gets up slowly from his leather chair, too slowly. He circles his desk and approaches me with an ice-cold stare. I've never seen him like this, cold and lethal.

He raises his hand and slams it into my face. It's not a slap like the ones I've seen in the movies, this one is brutal and pulls me to the side until I end up lying on my shoulder. He had never hit me before. I have never been bullied like this before. I don't recognize my father or my brother who looks at me with the same coldness. I touch my lip, when I look at my fingers I see them stained red.

- You know? Mafia life isn't like you imagine, sweetheart - he walks around me with a fake friendly face. I just want him to walk away. This man I don't recognize - the most important thing isn't family, it's that the rest of your enemies don't see you as weak, and you, stupid girl, you just did just that.

I tremble all over myself. I can't control the trembling that controls my hands. The image of Marcus comes into my head. Happy for everything that is happening, happy for putting my family in this situation.

Before I can react my father has crouched down next to me, from his waistband he has pulled out a knife that, without a single second's hesitation stops by my arm, at wrist level and cuts me.

- This will remind you what not to do.

- Father... - I whisper, grabbing my arm - why?

He wipes the knife on his shirt sleeve as he walks away.

- Go to your room until I decide what to do with you.

No one helps me up or tends to my wound. Slowly I get to my feet. My legs tremble, and a cold sweat mingling with the blood appears on my fingers. I walk away towards the door, throwing an accusing glance at my brother. This is my family, fake and broken.

I go out into the hallway, but as I start to climb the stairs to my room, I retrace my steps to hear through the half-open door what my father's verdict will be.

- Father, what are you thinking? - my brother asks.

There is a tense silence that gets on my nerves.

- Son, first thing tomorrow morning we will execute your sister - my heart slows to a stop for a second - we can't offend the Russians, but we can compensate them for not giving them the wedding they wanted.

- Are you sure, father?

There is no answer. My father, the man who raised and cared for me since my mother died has ordered me to be killed for marrying a man, a man who belongs to the Mafia and who has sought to make this happen because he has no feelings for me either.

I slowly walk up to my room. I am very clear about what I am going to do. They have left me no choice. I don't want to be in the middle of a crazy game, I don't want to continue belonging to a family that doesn't care about anyone, not a single voice pleaded for my life. I take out paper and pen and start writing the letter I will leave for my father.

I reread it a couple of times before folding it and leaving it on the desk. I go to the safe hidden in one of the walls of my room, right behind a picture of my mother. It's full of wads of bills, I grab a few, an old purse I never use, but it's big enough to fit a pair of shoes and a clean change of clothes.

I go out into the hallway looking both ways, when I think no one is there, I move towards the stairs. The mansion is always full of men keeping watch, but I guess they have more important things to do today. I grab my car keys and run out. I have to get out of here and the sooner I do it the better.

I start up trying not to make any noise, but my mini is not too quiet although it is incredibly beautiful.

I drive from Verona to Venice. I only stop once to refuel. I arrive late at night, have they noticed I'm not there, are they looking for me, did Marcus call me? I have tried to be strong all the time, not to stop to think about what has happened and what I am about to do, because if I stop to think about it, the pressure in my chest almost doesn't let me breathe and a choked scream escapes from my throat. I have to place my hands over my mouth to keep from making noise, tears fall uncontrollably, but this is the only way out, there is no other way. I take off one shoe and leave it lying in the car, right after I take off my shirt full of blood from the wound on my arm that my father gave me and throw it into the sea. 

I start the car, put it in first gear and quickly, second. I listen to the beating of my heart in my ears, I put it in third and before the car falls and sinks into the depths, I jump.

If luck is on my side, they will believe that I have committed suicide, as I have written in the letter to my father, and he and my husband will never bother me again.

I gather my hair into a bun, being a redhead has always attracted a lot of people's attention and that's the last thing I want right now, so I take my shoes out of my bag and put them on, a clean t-shirt and a brown wig and walk away from my old life forever.

And this was the last day of my life. That's how between two men belonging to the mafias, they decided that my life was not important.