The Blood Union Was a Lie, and So Was My Mother’s Death

His voice climbed several degrees, and he snarled:

"What did you say?!"

I didn't answer him. The word severance was out, said aloud inside the Marchetti walls where such words were never spoken, and I was ready to take my sister and go.

But as I dragged the suitcase past Lorenzo, he seized her wrist.

He yanked her in front of him with sudden force.

His eyes were bloodshot with fury.

"Sever the union? Because I took Carmela to the clinic instead of standing through some pact your people dressed up as a wedding, you want out? Are you out of your goddamn mind?"

"What's wrong with helping someone? What did I do wrong? And Carmela got hurt because of your mother in the first place! And now you're threatening me with severing the union?"

"Fine. Severed. I'll grant it! I'll grant it!"

The suitcase toppled to the floor, and Lorenzo brought his foot down on it, again and again.

The veins stood out on his neck. He cracked the knuckles of one hand against his palm, the soft pop swallowed by his own breathing, and then he stopped talking.

I quickly pulled my sister back behind me, shielding her.

She'd always been timid, and now her small body was shaking, on the edge of bursting into tears right there.

In that moment I finally understood how foolish I'd been to agree to let her be bound to Lorenzo.

A dozen stomps in, the suitcase finally gave out and split wide open.

Our mother's keepsakes scattered across the floor.

He couldn't pull his foot back in time. His polished leather shoe came down right on the clothes, and the faded fabric was marked with footprints in an instant.

A scream tore out of me, and I lunged a step forward and shoved him off.

"Don't touch them! Get away!"

Salvatore's face was cold to the bone, his voice pressed down over the anger, full of warning. The room had gone silent the way a room goes silent only when the Don decides it should.

"Adriana, my patience with you has a limit. Stop testing it over and over again."

I rushed in and crouched over our mother's things, guarding them.

The Marchetti brothers traded a look. Lorenzo caught his meaning at once and dragged me and my sister aside.

Salvatore handed the thermal box in his hand to Carmela.

He stood in front of the suitcase, reached down and lifted a few pieces of clothing for a glance, and a sneer curled at the corner of his mouth.

Then he tossed the clothes carelessly back onto the floor and reached for a cigarette.

He turned the heavy signet ring on his right hand once, slowly, and the lighter was clenched in his fist.

"Treating a pile of garbage like treasure? What's with the pitiful act? Have I ever failed to feed you or clothe you under this family's roof?"

"You knew perfectly well the union was just a contract between bloodlines. What are you making a scene about now? Is a paper pact worth more than a human life?"

"I said we'd make it up to you, so we will. Are you still not done? You love this pile of rags? Fine!"

Before I could even react, his hand went still around the lighter. He flicked it to flame and let go.

Fire caught on our mother's keepsakes in an instant.

A scream tore out of me. "No!"

I tried to rush over, but Lorenzo's grip clamped down on my neck and I couldn't move.

My always-gentle sister had gone mad.

Her eyes were red. Her hands fell open at her sides, no longer reaching to tuck the loose strand of hair behind her ear, and then she opened her mouth wide and bit down hard on Lorenzo's hand.

In the second his grip loosened, she spun and slapped him across the face.

For a beat everyone froze. No soldier moved. No breath broke the quiet.

Carmela quickly set the thermal box on the table and rushed over to wrap my sister in her arms.

"Don't panic, Lorenzo didn't mean any harm, he only wanted to settle things between you!"

But from somewhere my sister found the strength to break free of her hold and grab a fistful of her hair.

Carmela was knocked to the floor, and my sister sat on her, grappling and tearing at her.

Wretched, sobbing cries echoed through the room.

Lorenzo had me locked down, unable to break loose, and I could only keep crying out for his brother to stop.

Salvatore's eyes went red at the sight. He stepped up, fisted my sister's hair, and dragged her off Carmela.

He pinned her head and slammed it into the wall.

After three times, blood poured down my sister's forehead.

My frantic scream came out shaking.

And all I could do was watch her run out of strength to struggle.

In a few minutes, our mother's keepsakes had burned to ash in the flames, and the floor was stained with black smoke into a mark that would never come out.