“Chiara, dear, you don’t have to do this. You shouldn’t sacrifice your life for your family, let alone for the company. We’re fine, we don’t need desperately of this partnership; it was just a suggestion,” Grandma insists clearly and affectionately, giving me that smile that only she can give.
“Okay, enough of this nonsense. This is ridiculous; Chiara is eighteen years old. Eighteen, and you should have refused the offer on the spot. What kind of parents are you who say absolutely nothing when someone tries to buy your daughter?” Vincenzo shouts toward our parents, leaving Mom shocked and with tears in her eyes. Vincenzo never shouts at anyone, especially Mom. “You’re honestly fine with handing over your only daughter, the youngest of the three, to the Camorra in exchange for more money and power. Isn’t what we have enough? If you feel it isn’t, sell yourselves. You’re both single; marry into the mafia, but don’t hand my sister over to a murderer.”
“Vincenzo…” My father’s voice contained a clear warning: not another word, don’t make your mother cry. Her tears had always been his weak point.
“But…” His gaze lingers on my mother, and the words die inhis mouth; he looks at me, confused and angry. Perhaps he feels unable to express himself as he would like so as not to make my mother feel worse.
At this point, tears flow freely down my mom’s face. She lets out a small hiccup and appears to be in pain, perhaps guilty. My dad continues to show no reaction whatsoever, remaining in his cold businessman’s mask.
“Chiara, could you accompany me to my office so we can talk about this in a more civilized manner?” He ask calmly, looking into my eyes.
“You’ve got to be kidding. There’s nothing to talk about. She’s still a kid, your daughter is eighteen, and you want to hand her over to the Camorra. That’s the kind of father you are. Isn’t it enough that you left us behind?” Lorenzo questions in a hurtful way, making Dad turn his back on us and walk into his office, leaving the door open for me after he enters.
Without saying a single word to anyone, I follow him silently into the study, closing the door immediately after entering. Dad is sitting with his back to me, looking over the garden of the mansion outside.
“Are you sure about this decision?” he asks, without facing me.
“I remember Grandpa saying once that he always wanted a serious partnership with the mafia, which is why he started selling weapons to them. He said that this way, he could make sure that everyone was protected and that if anything happened, he could set the world on fire so that his family could stay as it always was.” Dad looks surprised. “He said he tried this partnership years ago, but it wasn’t accepted, and when they changed their minds, you were already married to Mom, and Lorenzo was on the way. He warned me that one day, I might be chosen to ensure our family’s power and protection, and now that I have it, I don’t intend to disappoint him, even if he’s nolonger here. And I know that you, too, have always wanted to be involved in some of the Camorra’s business, and this is your chance.”
“You don’t have to do it, Chiara. Your brothers are right; this is not your obligation. I never wanted you to find yourself in this position; a forced marriage is not what I pictured for my only daughter.”
“I know that, and this is my decision. I want to be untouchable Dad. It may sound ridiculous, but I want to be so powerful that no one can ever reach me; I want to be at the top where it’s hard to be hurt. I want to be unbeatable; I want to be a queen, and in the Camorra, I can be all that,” I say, remembering Luca’s words from the day before.
“Are you sure about this?” he insists with the phone in his hands, and I know that the moment I say yes, my life will change forever. He will call the Capo of the Camorra, and I will become, even if not definitively, one of them.
“Yes, you can let Camorra know, and don’t forget my conditions,” I answer, turning my back on him and on my life as I’ve known it until today.
I go upstairs and into my room, still numb from my decision, wondering if I really made the right choice, if I won’t regret it later,andif I’ll ever be happy with my life from now on. I try not to think about it, pick up my copy of “The Great Gatsby,” and enter another era where happy endings are not guaranteed, just like mine.
Chapter 7
I hear a small knock on the door, and I see my grandma come in; she smiles at me and comes over to sit next to me on the bed. I put my book aside and look at her. She caresses my face, and I gesture to lay my head on her lap; she starts to brush my hair, making me relax little by little.
“Your father has spoken to Don Henrico; they are negotiating and arranging the details of your engagement. Your father went blank with your demands,” she says calmly. “Are you sure this is what you want for your life, Chiara? I always imagined you would marry for love!”
“Yesterday, when Don Henrico proposed the marriage, I had never felt so insulted in my entire life; I felt like I was just an object, something insignificant. But the more I thought about it, the more my mind and heart told me to accept it as if it was my true destiny. I don’t know why, especially because I think that Luca and I will never be able to love each other, but something inside me keeps on insisting that this is the right path to take, and I’ve just decided to trust this instinct. Besides, this marriage will make me the woman I’ve always dreamed to be! And before you say it, I know I’m perfectly capable of being that woman without the Camorra; I know I am, but in a very twisted way, something inside tells me that this is the way to go.”
She looks at me with that look of affection and understanding that only she can give and smiles, taking my hand and squeezing it tightly. “No matter what, you are still my baby, and I will always be here for you, and if anyone dares to hurt you, even if that person is the most bloodthirsty murderer in theworld, you can be sure that I and the whole family would kill him for you!”
I look at her, and I know that she understands me; she may not take it very well or even agree with my decision, but I know that right now, she may be the only person in my family who really understands why I’m doing what I’m doing, after all, as she says, we are soul mates.
“How upset is Mom?” I question calmly, trying to hide the storm in my stomach. I don’t want my mother to feel disappointed in me.
“Do you want me to be honest?” I just nod. “I think she’s frustrated; she’s mad at your father, tired of accusing him of getting you into a loveless marriage. You know she’s always wanted the best for you, honey!”
“I know, and I feel terrible for disappointing her, but she can’t take it out on dad, a decision that was completely mine, and besides, she knows better than anyone that love doesn’t equal happy marriage,” I say exasperated and kind of angry with everything around me. “Look at her, Grannie. It’s been years, and she won’t open up to anyone, always under the illusion that one day, Dad will come home as if nothing happened. He’s been with lots of women; she knows that she’s seen their bachelor show just like us, he abandoned us. She deserves better; she deserves to start over! So she can’t demand from me the story of infinite love, which, unfortunately, she didn’t have.”
As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I feel like the weight of the world has lifted off my shoulders. Everything I’ve ever thought aboutfinally is not just in my mind. I love my mother, but she needs to move on, live her life, fall in love. To stop waiting for someone who hurt her so muchandstop projecting her dreams onto me. I’m my own person, and as much as love is something I’ve always wanted, I also have other ambitions.
“You know your mother has always been crazy about your father. I remember when they met, she was only seventeen, and it was at a business dinner; I insisted she go to show a united family to the Mancini. When we arrived at the house, your mother asked us to make it quick. She wanted to go out with her friends, but as soon as her eyes laid on your father, it seemed like her world stopped; she forgot everything she wanted to do. And your father also seemed hypnotized by her; they both looked at each other in a way I can’t describe. They laughed and talked the entire dinner; at the end of the evening, your father asked her out. She didn’t even breathe and immediately said yes, andshe was happy. They went out together three days after meeting each other and, after that day, became inseparable; they were always going out on dates andmet each other’s friends. They started traveling, and I knew that my daughter had found love, and I should be happy about that, but as much as I adore him, something in your father always told me that it wouldn’t be forever as she had imagined. I told her thathe was always very handsome, he would catch the attention of the women around him, he charmed them, and I thought that he wouldn’t be a one-woman man, that he wouldn’t be the Prince Charming she always wanted. But the years went by, and they continued together, and they seemed to like each other more and more, and then the proposal came; I was wrong, I thought, but something inside me didn’t tell me otherwise. They got married, then came your brothers, and you and your mother had never been happier in her life; he was a good husband, a good father. But when your grandfather fell ill, and your mother had to return to Portugal to take care of the business, I had a bad feeling, but I ignored it; after all, he came with her, he split himself between two countries, he did everything for all of you. Until that day, he was already distant, but he’d always been a man married to his work, so everything seemed normaluntil he came home, divorcepapers in hand, your mother collapsed, and he left. He left everything behind: the woman he promised to love and the children he promised to protect and care for. When I looked at my daughter, all I could see was anger, maybe a little hatred, for being left, for all of you being left, but he kept coming to visit; she thought that maybe with the visits, he would change his mind and finally stay. Until he stopped, stopped visiting and stopped calling. Your mother was heartbroken and powerless, not knowing what to do; her children were asking for their father, who seemed to have abandoned them. For a long time, I hated your father; I thought he ruined my daughter forever, but look at her, strong and independent, standing on her own two feet. Your mother loves your father, always has, and probably always will; you can’t blame her for that, but I hope you know that as much as she loves him, she loves the three of you even more. And yes, maybe she still hopes he’ll come back one day, and maybe he will! But all the love she needs and has ever needed comes from you, and she has never wanted anything less than the best in the world for her children, and for that, no one can judge her!”
Once Grandma finishes speaking, I look at her, feeling tears run down my face. She has the look that only a mother who has seen her daughter suffer helplessly has. I hug her and cry, feeling bad for my wordsandfor judging her.
“I’m going to talk to her; try to comfort her!” I say, wiping the tears from my face.
“Yes, dear, do that. She’s in the library; go on!”
I get up slowly from the bed, and my grandmother’s eyes are on me; I put my hair up in a high ponytail, trying to put my thoughts in order, mentally preparing what I want to say, to not say anything wrong or be misunderstood. I leave the room and walk slowly down the corridor, up the stairs to the third floor of the house, and toward the library door. I stop for a secondin front of it, put my hand on the handle, and take a deep breath, opening it steadily. I enter the library in silence, with the image of my mother immersed in a book, sitting in the armchair near the window overlooking the garden. I approach her slowly, hugging her from behind, making her jump a little on the chair and look in my direction, letting asmall smile appear on her lips. I feel a kiss being placed on my cheek, and I smile, pulling away to finally sit down in the armchair in front of her.
