“Even if I didn’t use force, you were forced to enter. From the moment he spoke to you like that in the hall, all your actions were thought out and plannedso that the mafia wouldn’t look bad so that everyone would realize that you were the ideal woman to be by my side. Our engagement forced you inside, and seeing your eyes before they went out, I know that we put an image on you that you shouldn’t carry, a terror that you can’t bear.”
“I’ll forget.” My voice comes out low and uncertain, knowing full well that I’ll be tormented by the memories of last night for a long time. “It’s okay, I’ll be fine. I’m stronger than I look!”
Three days later, all the Italian newspapers headlined the engagement of the heir to the Di Santis family and Salvatore Mancini’s youngest daughter. My photo with Luca, from the day I was introduced to the Camorra, is in all the papers, always highlighting the large diamond ring on my finger. The memories of that night are still too vivid, and my nights are far from peaceful; insomnia and nightmares have taken hold of me, andI hear him begging for forgiveness, for help. The newspapers have started calling me Principessa d’or (golden princess), but they don’t know the truth; they don’t know the blood that was spilled that night; if they did, they wouldn’t use the color of my hair to refer to me.
I twist my engagement ring on my finger, listening to my mother refuse yet another interview. The newspapers and magazines keep calling in an attempt to get an interview with me, with the excuse that they want to get to know the future wife of the heir to Italy’s richest family. My father has been trying to cover up my psychological reports, knowing that my life is being reviewed; the Camorra can’t know that fact, especially if it’s leaked to the newspapers.
“We’re not interested in money or publicity.” I look closely at my mother, noticing her patience waning out, her voice getting louder and more irritated. “I’ve already told you that Chiara has no interest in giving any interviews to any media. What do you mean public interest? It’s an engagement, not a political event; it’s something private; they don’t owe any kind of clarification.”
I let out a loud breath and walk out into the garden, seeing Luca get out of his car and walk toward me. His face isn’t thebest, but I can see that he’s trying to soften it as he gets closer.
“Paparazzi are surrounding your house!” his voice sounds angry, and he looks intently at me, coming a little closer; I don’t react, and he seems to calm down a little.
“I know, I can’t really leave the house, plus they keep calling asking for interviews and clarifications. My mother is afraid I’ll be surrounded if I leave the family property, so we had to increase the number of security guards in the morning.” I sit in a chair facing the small garden table, taking a deep breath and watching Amethyst run across the grass. I hear Luca pull up a chair, and I look over to see him sitting next to me, still looking at me.
“We’re trying to calm things down; I believe that in two or three days, things will settle down a bit.”
“A bit.” I let out a dry, irritated smile. “Will security have to be increased?”
“Yes, at least for now.”
“Have they surrounded your house?” Luca looks away from me and doesn’t answer. “Luca?”
“No, our family is well known; although they don’t have any proof, rumors of the mafia are circulating.”
I nod my head, a little annoyed that I’m the only one who has to deal with this avalanche of journalists. “They’re going to look into my life…”
“My father and yours have sorted everything out so that your anxiety disorder doesn’t get out.”
“If it makes the headlines, the Camorra will never agree to the wedding.” I look away from him, not wanting to face him.
“At this time, or any time in reality, they have no say in the matter; you are the one I chose; nothing will change that!”
“Your father’s.”
“What?”
“I’m your father’s choice; I’m not naive, Luca; your fatherchose me to deepen the partnership with mine; it wasn’t you who chose me because you were interested in me; it was your father because he was interested in what my family has to offer.”
Luca looks at me, but no words seem to come out of his mouth. I let out a dry laugh, get up from my chair and walk into the house. What was I really expecting? That he would deny what I said and promise me eternal love? How naïve and stupid can I really be? I go into my room and close the door, leaning against it and closing my eyes. I think back to the first time we met, and even though I already knew, I’ve now confirmed that he was never interested in me but rather in what I have to offer. I let out my breath and wish it wasn’t like that, not anymore; I wish I was more than just a favorable exchange for Luca, more than just a marriage of convenience, because he’s much more than that to me.
I hear small claws scraping on the door, open it and look down, seeing amethyst enter between my legs and Luca staring at me with an expression I can’t recognize on his face.
“Can I come in?” I gesture with my hand and make way for him to enter my room. Luca looks around, clearly assessing the space. “Similar to London, the stars…”
“All my rooms are similar; I’m not very original.”
“An easier way to feel at home, I imagine.”
“Maybe I’ve never really thought about it. I don’t think you’re here to talk about decoration, Luca.”
Luca sits on my bed, looks at me, and seems to be trying to find a way to start the conversation as if he’s choosing the words that will come out of his mouth. “When we agreed to get marriedwhen you accepted, it was always clear that we were both going to get something out of it; love was never something laid out on the board; power was. If you’re expecting love, a prince on a white horse, I’m not that person, Chiara; I’m the villain of the story, you know that. In our world, in the mafia,love is not a word used.”
“You’re trying to tell me to erase my fantasies about love, is that it?”
“In a way, love isn’t something I can offer you. So eliminate those fantasies before it’s too late.”
I let out a dry laugh and wonder how I got into this situation; I always imagined that when I fell in love, it would be a reciprocated love with a beautiful love story, and here I am, hearing from the lips of the man I think I love, that I should erase my feelings. “Well then, I think it’s too late, Luca because I’m deeply and stupidly in love with you.” I see Luca’s body stiffen, and his face become tense. “Wouldn’t you be able to love me one day?”
