Prelude (Aliyana)

“Emotions make a man do crazy things. But a woman is a demon without it.”

Leonardo da Vinci once wrote, Black is like a broken vessel, which is deprived of the capacity to contain anything. I wonder what he thought of the color white. Did he think it was a sign of purity? Or did he too look upon whiteness as a false brightness, a lie?

2-years-ago if I stood on this very podium, with this man across from me, I would have smiled similar to the way I am now. The white dress hugging my body then a promise of honesty and trust as I glowed with a warmth knotting my stomach walls.

Only then, my smile would’ve been comfortable, wrapped in genuine joy, because then I loved him. At that stage in my life, he was my world and I would have laid myself on the floor where he walked with his blood-stained soles. And I would have done it naked, ready to bare myself to this one man with a smile on my face.

A smile that wasn’t bold, or soaked with the whisper of revenge. My heart would have beat with love, and not in the threat that now lurks outside these Church walls, waiting with finite patience that would soon be over. This marriage is no fairy-tale.

Yes, this entire scene once had the potential to be the perfect imagery of a great folklore tale where the devil married his angel. But I am not the angel, I’m the bad one.

Since I am going for honesty, I should also point out that this man is not the devil. The devil was once an angel. Marco Catelli has never known a day of what it feels like to be pure.

He only knows evil, hurt, pain, and hatred. And the only greatness in this entire Church is my hate for this one man, my future husband.

He lifts my hand, enclosing it in his own. I need not look into the crowd to know the women are glaring at me in disgust and jealousy. I am marrying a Catelli.

The few PEOPLE happy about this union are old and might think Marco’s hand over mine means he loves me. But I assure you, love is not the case of point. He is squashing my hand, his cynical eyes are stabbing me to death, over and over again.

Marco Catelli is showing me he will soon have power over me.

This isn’t a Union of Love; this is the Union of Death. Marco isn’t marrying me for the life he claims to breed with me in the foreseeable future. He is marrying me to avenge the one he has already claimed as his own. He is slipping this ring on my finger because I am the one with the tools he now needs in his arsenal to start a war.

I am the last choice. His last step into the darkness. And my inevitable early grave is the only solace he offers.

My father told me Marco was obsessed with the idea of me. But I know that is not true, Marco Catelli’s only obsession is feeding his addiction to power. It has blinded him to the extent that he can’t see, that I, Aliyana Capello his future bride, is his most dangerous enemy.

If he thinks I am going to just allow him to use me, I will relish in his misery when he realizes I am not the mouse he was so in love with. Camilla Moretti was foolish and whatever led her to her untimely death was her own doing.

She wanted to play a game with the wrong players and like Ren; they took her out like a pawn:- worthless and dispensable.

But for me, I have gained Queen status. I am as evil and cunning as Marco’s biggest adversary, Lucca Sanati. The man they all search for. A man who chose to make an enemy out of me when he took someone he was not supposed to touch.

“Do you take Marco Catelli to be your lawfully wedded husband, through sickness and in health, until you both shall live?” The word no comes to my lips. I should say it.

My true-love remains buried in a shallow grave that is still wet, in the middle of nowhere thanks to this man. I should say no. I look at him, his clean-shaven jaw, harder than I remember it. Those obsidian eyes that once burned with so much heat, I felt touched by the sun, now empty, freeze me in that my skin is still covered in Goosebumps from the time I arrived here, 37 minutes ago.

“Yes,” I say it and like a tick of a clock my fake smile drops.

It boggles my mind how one simple word can have such a life-altering outcome to one’s life. Is that what my existence has now come down to? Is that all that my freedom meant? One word and it is all gone. Sold at a low cost of pride to the man with the biggest title. How shallow has it all become? And I have said yes, sealed it all, and now I am the official Mrs. Catelli.

I take a deep breath, as the flashes of last night remind me of why I am here, and I tell myself that biding my time is my only option.

The ring my father chose comes into view by my small cousin Bernardino and as I take it my eyes drift to the man sitting in the front of the Church row, my father, my jailer who just gave me away.

A deep throat clears and my heart beats in equal measures of fear and nerves as I face my soon to be husband and hold the hand that just hours ago, left the mark on my neck. Funny isn’t it. What is hilarious is I slip the band on his finger knowing full well that he is not yet done with me.

It is sad that a tear betrays me, as it slips down the side of my cheek. Life can sometimes be a cruel joke.

How did it all come to this? When did I make the wrong choice?

My name is Aliyana Capello, daughter of Consigliere Sartini Capello, and today on June 23rd, 2014, I became the wife of Marco Catelli, The Capo Dei Capi of the 5th State.

The man who killed my lover, best friend, and who now wishes to kill me. And this is my confession.