a white dress

FRANCESCA

WE FINISH UP before anyone arrives. It’s an hour before eight and Antonio is nowhere to be seen. I’m starting to worry. Did he forget? But that’s not like him. The Don is never careless.

At least, that’s what I’ve heard. So, when I see him in our room adjusting his belt, I’m taken aback. He’s swapped his white shirt for a gray one, paired with black slacks.

My eyes go wide at the sight of him. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were home.”

I quickly drop my gaze. It’s not right to address him so casually. He’s my father’s boss, my boss, the head of the Family. His word is law.

“I just got here,” he says. His voice is steady, but I can sense tension in him. It makes me wonder about his relationship with his family.

I’m surprised he responds. My cousins have told me their husbands would sometimes punish them for asking such questions, or at least mock them.

But I didn’t ask, did I? I made a statement, and he answered, right?

“Oh.” I close the door behind me, not wanting to seem rude by retreating to the closet.

“Get ready and don’t wear anything revealing. We have ~Nonno~ coming.” He seems to have a distaste for the man. But why? He’s the Don’s grandfather.

Every Mafia Family has its own issues. There are many people we don’t like but have to pretend to be friends with. Someone has to be in charge to keep everyone in line.

That someone is my husband, so how is ~Nonno~ his enemy? Shouldn’t they be allies? Or am I overthinking this?

I nod, then think better of it. “Yes.”

He moves away from the closet and sits on the king-sized bed in the center of the room. He doesn’t look at me, and I’m relieved. My luggage is still unpacked and I feel foolish for not having done it sooner.

What must he think of me now?

I gently set the luggage on the wooden floor and unzip it. This is the one with all my dresses and jewelry. I arranged them carefully.

I have plenty of outfits to choose from, even new ones. I select a few new dresses.

There’s a large mirror and dressing table here. I quickly take out my cosmetics and the dresses. It doesn’t take me long to decide. I choose the one that makes me look attractive but modest.

It’s a white off-the-shoulder dress with long sleeves. It hugs my curves and falls just below my knees. I remember it looked good on me when I bought it a few months ago.

I’m grateful that the bathroom is connected to the closet because I don’t want to see him. I quickly retreat to the bathroom and lock both doors before undressing.

The warm water soothes my anxious heart. I feel myself relax, even if it’s just for a few minutes. I need this.

***

It’s fifteen minutes before eight and no one has arrived yet. This gives me more time to prepare. I don’t know if the Don is still in the bedroom, but I don’t bother to check.

From the bathroom, I go straight to the closet and start getting ready.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I can’t help but feel trapped. I’ve never had any freedom and I never will. I’m all dolled up in a house that’s supposed to be mine, but I have no control over it.

I’ve always believed that a man rules the world, but a woman rules his home. But in my world, men rule everything.

I don’t care how my husband behaves outside, but inside the house, I want him to be just my lover.

I twirl a strand of my curled, light brown hair. I’m lucky to have natural golden highlights, otherwise my curls would look dull.

My hair is clipped back, with a few layers framing my oval-round face. My naturally plump lips, tinged with pink and red, are painted crimson today.

It makes me feel bold, powerful. Dark eyeliner sharpens my eyes, making them more captivating.

I look beautiful.

The makeup hides my emotions. It makes me feel like I can take on the world all by myself. It gives me a false sense of hope that maybe, just maybe, I could escape one day.

But I know that’s impossible. I was never able to leave my father. How could I leave my husband? He’s the Don.

I put on my red stilettos, knowing they’ll look good with my white dress.

Even though the shoes are painful if worn for hours, they’re my favorite pair and I always wear them on special occasions. Today, I’m dressing to impress.

My heels click against the wooden floor as I gently pull open the closet door.

He’s not there.

Relief washes over me. I don’t have to face him and I have about ten minutes left to gather my thoughts before people start arriving.

For the first time, I’m grateful for the etiquette classes my father made me take.

The halls are brightly lit and decorated with red flowers. I wander into the dining hall. It’s even more lavish than before, ostentatious.

The table is long, able to seat about twenty people. No wonder the Don doesn’t sit there. It’s too gloomy, too lonely.

My phone rings again, its constant buzzing annoying me. I end the call without looking. I think I know who it is.

Or at least, I think I do.