calling him

FRANCESCA

I’m feeling out of place with Alessia here. I can tell she feels like she doesn’t belong. The boys are chatting away in Italian, which only adds to her discomfort.

I want to reach out to her, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself. I know they’d be eavesdropping, especially Antonio. He always seems to know everything.

The smell of the hot food does nothing to erase the memories of yesterday. I know I can’t dwell on it forever, but it’s hard to move on. Alessia needs me to be strong.

I catch her looking at me and I offer her a small, friendly smile. She quickly looks away, which makes me frown. Maybe she didn’t want to come here and was forced to. I wouldn’t be surprised.

Or maybe it’s because of the first impression I had to make. Does she know I’m married to her brother, and that I’m not after his money?

“Alessia,” my husband’s voice cuts through the room. Everyone turns to look at him. Alessia, suddenly the center of attention, flinches.

Antonio doesn’t seem to care that she’s uncomfortable. Or if he does, he’s not showing it. “Francesca will get you enrolled in school and show you around the city.”

Alessia nods timidly. She may not know who her brothers are or how things work here, but she’s smart enough to pick up on their dangerous vibes.

Growing up with a cop for a father will help her. As long as she stays in the dark, she’ll be safe.

“Use your words, Alessia,” Dante instructs. I think he’s trying to gauge her strengths and weaknesses, and to see how truthful she is.

“Okay,” she says. She looks so sad and I don’t know how to comfort her, especially since she doesn’t seem to like it here.

I’m not sure how to make her feel at ease. Maybe I should try to be her friend. But she’s ten years younger than me.

The brothers leave shortly after, cleaning up their plates. Despite my exhaustion from the sleepless night, I find myself looking forward to spending time outside with Alessia.

***

Everything is going well until I realize I need Alessia’s documents, which I don’t have. Antonio does, but he’s already left.

I have to call him. I have his number. Silvio gave it to me when I got engaged to Antonio for emergencies, but I’ve never used it.

I never thought I would. I don’t want to disappoint him, but I also don’t want to call him.

~It’s just a phone call, Franci. He can’t hurt you from that far away.~

~What if he drives back here just to do so?~ my mind counters.

~He doesn’t have time for that. Plus, he’s not that bad—~

~—if you ignore the murders and his psychotic tendencies, of course.~

I let out a heavy sigh. I’m going to call him. Whatever happens, happens. I don’t want him to say I didn’t try.

I press the call button and wait for him to answer. He picks up after a couple of rings, but it feels like an eternity.

“Giordano,” he says. Leave it to my husband to be formal, even with me.

“Antonio,” I say hesitantly, trying to gauge his mood.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. He knows I wouldn’t call him without a reason.

I swallow hard. “Um, I need the documents to register Alessia for high school.”

He’s silent for a moment. “Get them from my office downstairs,” he finally says.

“I-I don’t—I mean I don’t want to go…” I trail off. I don’t have a good reason.

“I’ll send Omero to you. Go to the mall or something first. He’ll find you there.”

“Okay,” I reply, relieved. I don’t want to go into his office or the third floor again. It’s too dark and creepy. “Uh, bye then. Stay safe.”

I cringe at my own words. Why did I have to say that?

He hums in response. “Of course.” Then he hangs up. I let out a sigh of relief.

Honestly, I prefer Costanzo out of all the brothers. He’s more laid-back and respectful toward me. Omero is quiet and gives off a creepy vibe.

Dante is similar, with his silent, gangster-like demeanor. My husband tops them all. He’s the mob boss and he acts like it.

He’s quiet and brooding, which is a bit cliché, but he’s a jerk nonetheless.

I roll my eyes and grab a pair of jeans and a loose, nude-colored off-the-shoulder sweater, pairing it with black boots.

I cover the dark circles under my eyes with foundation and apply a bit of mascara to accentuate my eyes.

I play with my wedding ring as I descend the grand staircase. This time, I remember to bring my phone and purse. A group of men are waiting below. There are six of them, and I only recognize Fabio.

Antonio’s men are more respectful toward me than my father’s were. They’re more professional and less thuggish. But they’re all wearing the same cliché suits.

It’s probably for Alessia’s benefit, because their usual attire is a black shirt that shows off their muscles and tattoos, jeans, and biker gloves.

Fabio nods at me. He’s a big guy, his muscles visible even through his suit. Tattoos crawl up his neck and he has a buzz cut.

His eyes are dark brown and a jagged scar runs across his face. It looks painful.

“Madam,” he greets me.

“Fabio,” I reply. Seeing him after what happened, I feel a bit safer around him. He helped me and trusted me enough to give me a gun. That’s like giving a woman power.

Alessia shows up a few minutes after I arrive, dressed in a hoodie and jeans. Her blonde hair is simply braided and her face is bare. I’m relieved she’s chosen something modest to wear. I don’t want to have to explain her outfit to the Don. And I can’t exactly tell her not to wear certain things without giving her a reason.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she says.

I smile at her. “No problem. Ready to go?”

She nods and we head out, surrounded by our six bodyguards. Silvio used to be in charge of them, but now it’s Fabio. I’m used to this, but Alessia isn’t. She’s clearly uncomfortable, probably feeling underdressed and poor compared to the luxury around us.

I want to tell her it doesn’t matter, but I know that would only make things worse. She’d realize I noticed.

Five SUVs are parked outside. I know we’ll be riding in the one in the middle. Fabio opens the back door for us. I let Alessia slide in before I do.

She stares out the window. I feel bad for her. She’s been ripped away from her family and thrown into this messed up world I live in.

My eyes drift to her slumped form. Just like the last time she was in the car, she’s huddled close to the window, as if I might eat her. What’s her deal?

I look away quickly when I notice the gun peeking out of the pouch on the back of the front seat on her side. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to have to explain why there’s a gun in the car.

I reach out and discreetly push the gun further into the pouch. She glances at me, but I turn away.

She didn’t see the gun and I can only hope she doesn’t get curious. Curiosity really can be dangerous.

“Do you need anything from the mall?” I ask her once we’re in the parking lot. We’ve already drawn a lot of attention with our six intimidating bodyguards trailing behind us.

Alessia shakes her head. “No, I don’t have any money.”

“Don’t worry about money, sweetheart. Just get whatever you want,” I tell her.

Alessia doesn’t respond. She nods, but I know her pride won’t let her accept. Men are going to love breaking that pride and I’ll have to watch it happen.

~No, I won’t let that happen. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to prevent it. She doesn’t need to lose her spirit like I did~.

For the next hour or so, I take her around, occasionally buying things. She starts to relax and asks simple questions about which outfit looks better and what mall we’re at.

She suddenly stops while looking at a bracelet. Alessia turns to me with a sheepish look on her face.

“I’m sorry if I was rude this morning. I was feeling really uncomfortable. And thank you for all this,” she says.

I smile at her. My heart swells with happiness. No one has ever taken the time to appreciate what I do for them.

They see it as my job or my duty, but no one in the Family ever says thank you. Not Father and definitely not my husband.

“It’s okay.” I beam at her. “How about you try this on? It looks cute.” I hand her a long-sleeved shirt that’s decent and modest. I know it won’t break any rules.

She looks at it with a raised eyebrow. “No offense, Franci, but it’s too modest. It barely shows any skin.”

I quickly shush her and glance at Fabio, who’s watching us. The other bodyguards are guarding the door, but Fabio stays with us.

I can’t tell if he heard or not, but I hope he didn’t. If he did, then my husband will definitely find out. He knows everything.

She looks at me with wide eyes, probably offended by my shushing her. But I can’t worry about that right now.

“Alessia,” I start. I don’t know how to explain to her that saying things like that could make her seem promiscuous (not my words), and she could end up hurt or worse.

She’s lucky she’s the Don’s sister and people prefer to keep their distance.

“Our family is very, very conservative. Showing even a little extra skin could get you into—a situation you don’t want to be in.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Bad situation? That’s stupid. I’m a teenager, not some old lady. My family never cared.”

I sigh. “I don’t expect you to understand, Alessia, but I expect you to listen. Not because you live in my house, but because I know the people you’re living with.”

She huffs. “Then what should I do? Because the clothes you picked out for me are so…old-fashioned.”

“Showing skin doesn’t always make you prettier. In fact, sometimes more modest outfits make you look more attractive. Like, buy a long-sleeved turtleneck. I love those.

“Leaving more to the imagination can be appealing.” I whisper the last part. I feel like an old woman. This is wrong.

I grab a tight black turtleneck off the rack. Alessia is very thin. The shirt will look good on her. “Try this.”

I see her face fall. I understand the phase she’s going through, wanting to show skin. I went through it too, and I remember the consequences. I shudder at the memory.

The physical scars from Father’s belt have healed, but the emotional wounds never did. What if Raffaello does that to her?

~No. That won’t happen. I won’t let it~.

“Trust me, it’ll look good,” I tell her, leading her to the changing rooms.

Fabio waits outside. I turn the corner to where the stalls are. I didn’t even realize I was tense until I was out of his sight. Little do I know, my own loyalties will be questioned after this.

Had I known, I would've wanted him by my side.