the consequences

FRANCESCA

MY HEAD SLAMS against the wall and I let out a whimper, but he’s not done with me yet. “Are you betraying me, Francesca?” he asks, his eyes narrowing into thin slits.

I can’t meet his gaze, but I manage to shake my head. “No,” I whisper.

He moves closer, trapping me between his body and the wall. His body presses against mine, rough and unyielding, as he lowers his head until our foreheads touch.

Suddenly, he spins me around and pushes me back against the wall. I strain my neck to keep my face from hitting the wall.

He wrenches my arm behind me and I feel my bracelet snap. A warm liquid trickles down my hand. It’s our blood, I realize.

“Lying isn’t the only form of betrayal, ~bambola~,” he says, his fingers gently playing with my hair. “So I’ll ask you again, are you betraying me? And don’t you dare fucking lie.”

His voice is soft, almost soothing, but I know better than to be fooled.

I look away, unable to bear his gaze, afraid of what he might do next. He removes his hand from my hair and places it against my throat.

If I try to push him away, I’ll only choke myself. It’s a clear warning.

He’s caged me in, just like my father did to my mother.

I swallow hard. If I say no, I’ll be lying, and I don’t want him to turn on me. Lying would be a clear betrayal.

Right now, the line is blurred, but if I lie, I’ll be crossing it. Then, nothing can save me.

“I didn’t know she was a cop,” I start, deciding there’s no point in hiding it anymore. He loosens his grip enough for me to turn around and meet his eyes, which are blazing with anger.

It sends a shiver down my spine, and it’s not the good kind. I can barely keep myself from shaking.

He doesn’t say anything, but I know he wants me to continue. He’s giving me a chance to explain, and I’m grateful for it.

“She followed me into the changing room. I swear, I didn’t know. She asked me to find the tag on her dress and that’s all I was doing, helping her like anyone else would.

“But the note was glued to the tag. It said she was FBI, but I didn’t call her. I didn’t call anyone. The note meant nothing.

“It was just a moment of weakness because of the murders I’d seen and the harassment from that man. It all just built up and made me take the note,” I explain, desperation clear in my voice.

“And where is the note now?” he asks quietly.

“I-I threw it away. I’m not lying,” I stutter, struggling to understand what’s happening.

He releases my neck. Finally, he speaks. “I was talking about Arianna, Doll.”

I recoil as if he’s burned me. A flurry of lies and excuses whirl in my head. What should I say? “What?” I whisper instead.

The pain in my head is nothing compared to the fear coursing through my veins. “What about Arianna?”

“I know,” he replies, stepping back and releasing me, “everything, Francesca.”

“Know what?” I feel a chill. He’s angry at me. He thinks I’ve betrayed him. I don’t want him to think that.

I didn’t betray him. Did I? I didn’t tell Arianna anything. I didn’t call the cops. I didn’t do anything!

I told him I was contacted by the cops! He didn’t know. I’ve just dug myself a deeper hole.

Arianna is my sister and he’s my husband. I knew he would ruin my sister’s life if I told her, so I didn’t.

“Every phone call made in this manor is monitored. Even the call you made to Arianna on your first day here,” he says, his voice devoid of emotion. He’s shutting me out again. I’ve ruined the progress we’d made.

“What about that phone call?” I don’t understand what’s happening. Did Arianna try something? I told her not to!

He steps back. “And she confirmed it by running away.” I’m frozen in shock. I can’t speak. “Did you help her?” he asks.

I swallow hard. I can’t breathe. “I didn’t, Antonio. I swear on my life I didn’t. In fact, I told her not to.”

“And you didn’t think it was important to tell me?” he asks.

“But she was caught the first time. I didn’t think it was necessary and you would’ve killed her! I was scared you would kill me!”

He chuckles darkly, running a hand through his hair. “You think I didn’t know. I knew she was trying to run away. And guess what, Doll, I helped her.

“She fell for the bait. She made everything worse for herself. She just sped up the process.”

“What process?” My voice is hoarse and I don’t bother to hide my worry and fear.

A smirk spreads across his face as he takes a few steps back. “The same process you’re in. Marrying, of course.”

“She was going to be married anyway. What’s the difference?” I ask. I don’t like where this is going. Antonio has a dark glint in his eyes, and it’s the one that screams murder.

“Romeo doesn’t like things simple, Francesca. She just fell into his trap. He’s going to play her bad, and all you can do is sit back and enjoy the show.”

***

Antonio storms out of the room soon after. It gives me time to think and I soon realize that his anger is justified, but so is my reasoning.

I need to talk to Antonio, but I’m not about to make a bigger fool of myself by going to him now. It would be like poking an angry lion with a stick and then wondering why I got eaten.

I’ll wait until he cools off.

I’m worried about Arianna, but I quickly realize there’s nothing I can do. I don’t have any way to contact her, so how can I help her?

I won’t let my relationship with Antonio suffer. I need him.

I’ve never been on the receiving end of his anger before. I’ve never seen his hatred or his grudges. I don’t know what to expect and, honestly, I’m scared.

I let out a sigh. If I could go back and change things, would I?

~No.~

~Yes, you would.~

I curse my inner voice because it’s always right. I know I’m being selfish, but I love myself too much to live a miserable life.

Antonio has been nothing but good to me so far. He’s not perfect, but he’s not the worst either. If I mess things up with him, I’m messing up my whole future.

I can’t afford to have him angry with me. There are plenty of people who would love to sabotage our relationship. He’s a don, and who wouldn’t want to be in a don’s good graces?

I’ve been a fool. I gave myself away. How could I not realize he was talking about my sister? I practically told him I was thinking of betraying him.

I’m walking a tightrope. I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I don’t know if he’s going to kill me or not. I don’t know what my punishment will be.

I don’t know anything and that scares me.

I’m sure his siblings suspect something is wrong, the way he stormed out in the middle of breakfast and slammed the door behind him. It was embarrassing. I don’t have the courage to face them.

~Don’t cry. Don’t cry.~

~Cry, Franci. Just let it all out.~

I can’t help but sniffle. My nose itches as I feel myself on the verge of breaking down. I need a distraction. I walk into the walk-in closet and grab the first suitcase I see.

I don’t know how much to pack or how long we’ll be in Italy, but I know it won’t be more than a week. As far as I know, it’s just us traveling and the Don wouldn’t leave his family unprotected for long.

Are we even still going? I don’t know.

I pack some jeans, a few dresses, shirts, and sweaters along with my toiletries. My hand brushes against the red dress. A sob escapes me as I toss it aside.

Why did I help that woman? He might have forgiven me if it was just about Arianna. Things wouldn’t have escalated this far.

At first, he was just venting his anger, but then he just left. He didn’t say anything. He just left! And that’s so much worse. I need a reaction from him. Anything. Even a hit.

I try to stop crying but I can’t. I need to let it all out. I slide down the wall, pull my knees to my chest, and hug them as my body shakes with sobs.

I feel so alone. No one understands my pain. No one can help me. The Don knows about my sister. The Don knows about my divided loyalties.

Sophia is gone too. I finally blocked her. Keeping in touch with her was a mistake, and maybe if I hadn’t, she wouldn’t be in danger.

After all, my husband is a crime boss. He won’t spare her life for being too nosy and if he does, he’ll just make her miserable.

I need to focus on myself right now. My sister can wait. She needs to figure things out on her own because all I’m doing is making things worse. I can’t help her and I can’t help myself.

The Don doesn’t trust me anymore. I saw it in his eyes. They were even more guarded than before. He sees me as a traitor.

It would’ve been better if he had at least vented his frustration, verbally or physically.

I don’t want to be scared of him—not when I was finally starting to get to know him. We’re back to square one because of me.

Mafia men hold grudges, especially the high-ranking ones. I can’t afford that. Without him, I’m vulnerable. I need Antonio to trust me again.

Not because he’s the Don or because he’s my husband, but because I feel safe around him. I need him by my side because he’s the only thing that makes me comfortable around others.

And now he’s not. I’m all alone. More alone than ever. Being alone means danger.

I know the difference between being the Don’s daughter, the Don’s betrothed, and the Donna. I prefer being the Donna because it makes me feel powerful.

I use my palms to wipe my tears, trying to stop crying like a lunatic, but I can’t. Images of the man burning and Jasmine looking at me with hopeful eyes fill my mind.

Visions of drugged women and a dying Arianna make me want to end it all. This is all my fault.

I need to stay strong. I can’t break. I have to fight back my fears and help myself in any way I can.

The next few moments are a blur. There’s a knock at the door. Our new maid, Carina Ricco, is on the other side when I open it.

With her black hair in a low bun and her uniform of a black and white dress, she looks like a professional maid, and she’s okay. A bit bossy, but okay.

I don’t really like her either.

“The Don has sent me to help you pack your clothes,” she says in a thick Italian accent.

I nod. I know she can tell I’ve been crying, but right now I don’t care what she thinks because I’m too depressed.

Before, I would have cared deeply because I knew I would’ve gotten hurt by Father, but he’s not here and everyone works for my husband.

In the past weeks, I’ve come to trust him enough to believe that he wouldn’t come back here just to beat me bloody.

I guide the housekeeper into the walk-in. She begins to pack my husband’s suits into the suitcase. I can’t help but raise an eyebrow.

How does she know what Don prefers to travel with?

Carina, seeing my confusion, chuckles. “Honey, I’ve worked for many families in this town. I know what your husband likes.”

~Alright then~… “Do you need a hand?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I’ll be done in a jiffy. You should rest,” she suggests, her gaze flicking to my face.

I offer her a small smile. “Thank you.” I mean it. I’m desperate for sleep after my emotional breakdown.

I don’t need to be told twice. The moment I collapse onto the bed, fatigue washes over me, even though it’s still early morning.

I yearn to forget everything. But despite my exhaustion, I remain awake, the image of Antonio’s enraged face etched into my mind.

If I were in his shoes, would I have forgiven me?