Gigi orders another glass of wine.
Bria and Isabella order margaritas.
I relax in my chair as we chat. They welcome me like I’m one of them, and I laugh more than I thought I would today. They ask questions about my life and share their own stories.
They don’t talk much about Emilio, which is disappointing, but I have a feeling it’s because he’s in the room with us.
For the first time ever, I feel friendship with someone other than Dasha.
I feel like I belong.
A knot forms in my chest, and I chug my mimosa.
This will end when I have to kill my husband.
Emilio is their family. They hold a loyalty to him.
I doubt they’ll be as forgiving as Neomi was with Gigi’sdeadfather-in-law.
22
I watchLiliya while pretending to pay attention to what the other men around me are saying.
I nod and make comments when needed.
Liliya throws her head back, laughing with the other wives.
Her laugh echoes through the room.
Surprisingly, it doesn’t grate my nerves like most do.
It’s cathartic, almost—like a favorite song that dissolves the static inside your head, calming you.
For a moment, I look at the men around me.
All bosses, underbosses, or capos in our Mafia families.
This group of men kills without regard and doesn’t shy away from committing crimes. While I share so many similarities with them, there’s one large difference. They’re all happily married men who love their wives.
None of their relationships began like that. Like mine, they all carried conditions with either contracts, force, or blackmail.
Cristian, Severino, and Antonio discuss the fastest way to move illegal weapons. Severino is considering ridding himself of his dealer and taking over the business. Cristian said they’d havehis support both financially and with manpower. Antonio nods, saying he’s interested as well.
If you’d asked me years ago if I believed any of them would find love in their hearts, that’d be a quick no. Yet, somehow, they found a fucking sliver of it for their wives.
Their stories don’t give me hope for my marriage though.
There’s no softness inside my chest to heal.
Only a decaying heart, rotting from the inside.
I welcome that rot—can’t wait for it to happen.
The day I feel nothing will be the best day of my life.
Cristian leaves the group to make a phone call as the other men engage in a side conversation.
I turn to Benny. “How long did it take for Neomi to stop being a pain in the ass?”
