The Crime of Loving

Freedom, at least that was what I saw it as. The rules, my grandfather’s scrutiny, and the feeling of captivity were welcome compared to his wrath.

I glanced around before straightening my brown hair over my shoulders. I urged my hands to stop fidgeting and held on to my clutch a bit tighter. My long, deep red dress stabbed my ribcage, and I allowed the uncomfortable feeling to ground me in reality.

Then, I saw her. It was impossible not to pick her apart from this crowd as her eyes shined with hope and dread. I tried not to let myself fill with hatred knowing I was here, standing in the same room because of her. On the contrary, I almost smiled when her eyes snapped at mine. The smile would have been filled with praise. One tiny girl had rattled the ego of many, got away with it, and showcased the scar Dante had left on her neck with pride, as if it was a middle finger for La Cosa Nostra.

And yet, I couldn’t help but pity her. She had no idea what this life meant, and she still chose it—blindly. When the tall blond man who walked protectively by her side whispered, her attention shifted away from me as her eyes glimmered for him, and I understood.

Love.

The death sentence in our world.

An illusion of happiness and a set of shackles meant to prevent you from flying free.

I was so intrigued by the girl who was almost killed at the hands of my siblings that I missed the speech given from afar. Not giving it any importance, or the people that swayed in place, I searched for Aldo as he’d taken longer than anticipated. Instead, I found Dante in the far corner. Only the left side of his face remained out of the shadows. The side that intimidated many by the size of the scar that decorated his left brow and the corner of his eye.

We both kept quiet and away from view as claps and chatter erupted in loud echoes. Dante murmured something under his breath that was not clear for me to understand. As the claps died, classical music replaced the chatter from the live duo nearby. The crowd thinned little by little.

The aura changed within seconds. Dark violence silently swarmed inside, and as I felt its fierce pull, my eyes swung to its call.

Three men walked in our direction with purpose. My feet took a small step back, deeper into the shadows as I stared blankly at the trio. My mind dismissed the two that walked a few feet behind, only focusing on him.

“Massimo.” His name slipped through my parted lips, and my body stilled.

Massimo’s powerful footfalls never faltered, but his dark gaze narrowed as his head inclined slightly and he continued down the hall.

You are not hearing voices.

Massimo's fingers reached the tie of his three-piece black suit, leaving his tattooed neckline exposed as he adjusted himself. His sight turned toward the remaining people inside his home before he gripped the doorknob to his right and disappeared from view. While he took the violent aura along with him, the pull still tugged me tightly to follow. A dangerous pull that was wise to ignore.

A blond-haired man followed quickly behind. His resemblance to the one who’d escorted Davina earlier only brought more questions. As the last guy traced their steps, his wicked eyes caught mine. Dark hair and an even darker gaze trained on me. He stopped, craned his head, and pursed his lips in disgust as Dante moved forward at my side. His eyes assessed me carefully.

They weren't supposed to know about me…yet.

With a quick grip on my brother’s arm in so-called fear, I’d deceived the man into believing I was no one to care about. Just an ordinary woman lost in this made world who sought the thrill of being with a mafioso.

Of course, he fell for it.

He took one last look at Dante before closing the door behind him.

I let Dante go. “Who was that?”

“Your future brother-in-law, Elio. Massimo’s right hand man and Miami’s underboss,” he replied with distaste.

Brother-in-law? Aside from their olive skin and Italian features, Elio and Massimo bear no resemblance to one another.

“Enough talk, it’s time.” Aldo’s voice traveled faster than my body could find him.

I wasn’t surprised to see his hands missing our drinks. Even our small conversations contained lies. Little white lies we’ve told each other for years. The lies we hide behind.

Elio adjusted his tailored suit before he leaned over to Dante.

With a nod, I watched as Dante walked closer toward the door but waited as Aldo stood before me.

“Stay here, and away from view. Only step inside if Dante is the one holding the door open. You hear a gunshot —”

“I know. Find our men and get in the car,” I finished.

“Don’t forget what you are here for.”

“I won’t.”

Aldo gave me a small nod and walked past me, and I was left alone.

We were the enemy.

Invited, yet unwelcome in this city.

A small prayer should have fallen from my lips. A prayer for Aldo’s plan to come through tonight. A prayer for the moment Massimo realized he’d been one step behind. A prayer for what was to come.

But the prayer never reached my lips.

Now, all I could do was watch the pieces fall and the chaos unravel.

Dante held the door open, and the room fell silent as I stepped inside the room.

“A marriage,” Aldo proposed.

With each step I took closer to Aldo, the tension grew thicker.

I couldn’t look around to catch anyone’s reactions or pay attention to the built-in bookcases on the walls. Not when his eyes were on me.

With my head held high, I kept my pace steady while my lungs filled with the smell of oak and bourbon.