the breakup line

FRANCESCA

“HELLO,” A VOICE rasps out. My heart feels like it’s about to leap out of my chest. I’m so relieved to hear her voice again.

“Arianna,” I manage to say, my voice shaking. “Ar-are you okay, Anna?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are ~you~ okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your wedding. I didn’t know if you could call,” she rushes out.

I glance at the door, making sure no one’s there before I continue. “It’s not as bad as I thought. And it’s okay, I understand why you couldn’t be there. Is everyone okay at home?”

She takes a sharp breath. “If you’re asking if Father’s changed, then no, nothing’s different. In fact, it’s worse because the Don’s bodyguards left with you.

“We’re fucking stuck in this life! We women are just puppets for these men. We’re the dolls they can ruin whenever they want. We’re the things they can play with and then discard.

“It just gets worse with the stupid so-called husband. I hate this! I hate everyone. I just want to leave,” she says, her voice bitter. I flinch, but I know she’s right.

We are puppets. I’m a Mafia puppet. And the fact that everyone in the Family knows and does nothing about it disturbs me.

Instead of fighting together, we women fight each other for their attention. We’re utterly pathetic. It’s no secret that women tend to be smarter and more vengeful than men.

But when one of us tries to speak up, another woman shuts her down. Women are also the enemies of women, not just men.

“Arianna,” I warn, panic edging into my voice. “Don’t do anything stupid. There’s no escape.”

It’s the bitter truth. If I could have escaped, I would have. I even laid out my options when I was studying, but Father caught up with my plans and gave me a solid beating.

I was in the hospital for days. Arianna, my sister, always acts rashly and one day it’s going to get her in major trouble.

Father wouldn’t give a damn because he has me—his golden puppet.

“You haven’t even tried!” she cries.

I stay silent, letting her sob. “Trust me, Anna. If there was an escape, we wouldn’t be here. I can tell you that even this call is probably being taped.”

“What?” She didn’t know?

“Yeah, so don’t make any stupid decisions like running away or even stupider decisions like killing yourself. I live because of you, sunshine.

“You’re my light because I know you’ll always be there when others turn away.”

She chuckles. “Likewise. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Call me later, okay. I think someone’s coming.”

I huff out in annoyance before mumbling a farewell. I want to talk more but I don’t want to get her in trouble either.

If the Don finds out I’ve called someone without his permission, he’d slaughter me. Not only that, but I picked up Sophia’s call too.

~Fudge! Sophia!~

Her dad’s an FBI agent and a high-ranked one. If he found out something was suspicious, he would find out about my family. He could use me.

Antonio needs to know and I’m not going to hide anything from him. I’m not the idiot here.

Time crawls by. I skip lunch. I’m used to it. Back home, lunch was something as small as a granola bar. I simply didn’t have the time.

I decide to unpack my things rather than lying around. I quickly open my suitcase and separate my formal wear and party dresses from house clothes and night clothes.

I have much more but those are the main ones.

It takes me a few hours till I’m done with setting up my clothes. I’m not disappointed. I’m a neat freak. I hate something out of place. It irks me.

***

Antonio doesn’t come home till late. His brothers are already here but I don’t have the courage to ask them where he is. They go straight to their rooms.

I sigh as I wait in the living room, the show ~Shadowhunters~ playing on the TV.

I’m not really interested, even though it’s one of my favorite shows after ~Teen Wolf~ and ~The Vampire Diaries~.

Due to my lack of attention to the show, I see his shadow loom behind me. The lights are off and the only light is coming from outside the room, where he has opened the door.

I like the darkness better than the brightness.

I quickly turn around to see him leaning against the door, a cigarette in his hand. Despite the tiredness radiating off of him, he still manages to look dominating.

“I’ll heat the supper.” I barely walk past him before his hand latches onto my arm. My eyes lower in submission.

“Come with me upstairs.” I follow him like a lost puppy as he makes his way to the top floor.

The mansion is a three-story house and I haven’t even explored it all. By today’s end, I’ve finished exploring the whole second floor.

The third is still left for me to see. The doors to it are apparently locked.

“What’s on the third floor?” I feel like I’m taking a big risk. As if I’m jumping over a wall by asking him.

I can’t see his expression as he’s walking in front of me, but I know he has stiffened. I don’t think he’s going to answer until he does.

“The home base office. You can check it out but stay away from there afterward.”

“It’s locked,” I stupidly point out.

“I couldn’t leave it open with the guests in the house.”

I want to slap myself for being so stupid, but why would he need to lock the door against his trusted members? However, I’m not going to kill myself for it.

Curiosity is a dangerous thing. I’m not one to poke my nose where it doesn’t belong, but sometimes, you can’t help it.

“Thanks,” I mutter, my voice barely audible.

He swings our bedroom door open and I step inside, feeling the door close behind me. The room suddenly feels too small, too confined.

His scent fills the room, a musky aroma that’s both comforting and intrusive. He’s standing at a distance, but it feels like he’s right next to me, invading my personal space.

But then I look at him, and I feel like I’m the one intruding. Like I’m the one who’s barged into his life uninvited.

The silence stretches on, becoming unbearable. I decide to break it. “You wanted to talk, Antonio?” I ask, my voice uncertain.

“No.” His response catches me off guard. Then why did he bring me here? “Help me get out of this suit,” he commands, turning his back to me and heading towards the closet.

I hesitate for a moment before following him. The room is neat and tidy, my suitcases tucked away. My dresses hang neatly in the closet, a testament to my hard work.

I help him out of his blazer, placing it carefully on the counter. He turns to face me, his gaze intense. I reach up to unbutton his shirt, my fingers brushing against his skin.

A blush creeps up my cheeks as I remember last night. His hands rest on my hips, pulling me closer.

I stumble slightly, still sore from our previous encounter.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is soft, concerned.

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

His grip tightens, his gaze piercing. “I’m just a bit sore from last night,” I admit.

I close my eyes, bracing myself for a blow that never comes. Instead, I feel a gentle touch on my cheek as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

I open my eyes in surprise. He’s not going to hit me?

I realize that my hands are resting on his chest. “Sorry,” I mumble, pulling away. But I’m not really sorry. His warmth was comforting.

He nods, his expression hardening as he continues to unbutton his shirt. This is probably routine for him.

I look away as he discards his shirt and starts to unbuckle his belt. My gaze drops to the floor.

“I, uh, we need to talk about something,” I stammer.