Fragile Longing

by Reilly, Cora

  Dad’s eyes softened further. He squeezed my hand lightly. “In many years, you’ll marry him. After you turn eighteen. So, you don’t have to worry about it now.”

  Six years and six months. “Is Fina sad?”

  Dad smiled. “No, she knows rules have to be followed.”

  I nodded slowly. “Danilo really wants to marry me when I’m grown up?”

  I couldn’t believe it. Danilo was so handsome and clever. Serafina and he had looked like monarchs beside each other, like a Disney dream couple.

  Dad kissed my forehead. “Of course, he does. Any man would be grateful to have you as his wife. He chose you.”

  I beamed up at my father.

  With a deep sigh, he pulled me against him. “Oh, ladybug.” He sounded sad, not excited, and I wasn’t sure why.

  I’d dreamed about Danilo all night. I couldn’t wait to talk to Anna about it. She’d come over today before she and her family had to return to Chicago.

  I’d woken before sunrise, too giddy to sleep further.

  Lying on my belly on my bed, I couldn’t stop writing Danilo’s and my name over and over again, no matter how childish it was. Sofia Mancini sounded perfect to me.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Come in!” I called, hiding my silly scribbling from view.

  Fina stepped in, blonde hair trailing down her shoulder. She was in simple jeans and a T-shirt and not wearing make-up, but she was still the prettiest girl I knew. Why would Danilo choose me over her? She was already grown up. She was the perfect princess for someone like him.

  I looked away from her, ashamed of my pettiness. Fina had been kidnapped and hurt.

  “I wanted to talk to you about Danilo. I assume Dad already talked to you?”

  “Are you mad at me?” I asked, worried that Fina felt bad because she was now without a future husband.

  “Mad?” she asked, looking confused as she walked over to me.

  “Because Danilo wants to marry me now and not you.”

  “No. I’m not. I want you to be happy. Are you okay?”

  Despite my embarrassment, I showed my scribbling to her, wanting to share it with someone else.

  Fina’s eyes widened. “You like him?”

  “I’m sorry. I liked him even when you were promised to him. He’s cute and chivalrous.”

  Fear of her reaction blasted through me, but she surprised me when she bent and kissed my head. Relief flooded me.

  Fina fixed me with a warning look. “He’s a grown man, Sofia. Many years will pass before you marry him. He won’t come anywhere near you until then.”

  “I know. Dad told me.” I didn’t mind waiting, and it made me happy that Danilo had agreed to wait so long for me. That meant he really wanted me.

  “So, we’re okay?” I asked, still unable to believe that Fina wasn’t mad at me for taking her fiancé.

  “Better than okay,” Fina said before she left.

  I hesitated, then decided to follow her to ask her more about Danilo. I didn’t know much about him. When I arrived on the gallery and peered down into the foyer, I spotted Fina and Danilo.

  “Sofia is a girl. How could you agree to that bond, Danilo?”

  My eyes widened at the rudeness in her tone. I thought she was okay with me marrying Danilo? It didn’t sound like it.

  Danilo looked furious. “She is a child. Too young for me. She’s my sister’s age, for God’s sake. But you know what’s expected. And we won’t marry until she’s of age. I never touched you, and I won’t touch her.”

  “You should have chosen someone else. Not Sofia.”

  “I didn’t choose her. I chose you. But you were taken from me, and now I have no choice but to marry your sister even though it’s you I want!”

  He didn’t want me? I sucked in a sharp breath as my chest constricted. Tears pricked my eyes.

  Danilo and Fina looked up.

  I whirled around and stormed back to my room where I flung myself on my bed and began crying. Dad had lied to me. Danilo hadn’t chosen me. He still wanted Fina. Of course, he did. She was so pretty and blonde. People often mourned the fact that I hadn’t inherited Mom’s blonde hair.

  “Go away!” I yelled at the knock on my door and buried my face deeper in the pillow.

  “Sofia, can I talk to you?” Danilo said.

  I froze. Danilo had never approached me. Slowly, I sat up and wiped my eyes. I hopped off my bed and checked my face in the mirror. My eyes were puffy and my nose red. Fina was a pretty crier. I was not.

  I tiptoed to the door, my stomach twisting with nerves as I opened it. Danilo and Fina waited in the hallway.

  Fina smiled at me, but my eyes were drawn to Danilo. I had to crane my neck back because he was so tall. My cheeks heated, but I could do nothing about my body’s reaction to Danilo.

  “Can I talk to you for a moment?” he asked.

  I tried to hide my shock and quickly looked at Fina to see if it was okay.

  “Sure,” she said.

  I walked over to my sofa, suddenly self-conscious about all the pink in my room. I doubted Danilo liked the color very much. I sank down on my sofa, curling my fingers into fists in my lap to hide their shaking. Danilo left the door open and came over to me. He scanned my room, and I cringed when his gaze lingered on the array of stuffed animals on my bed. I didn’t cuddle with them anymore, I just had trouble throwing them away. Now I wished I had done it. Danilo must think of me as a silly little girl now. He sat down beside me but with plenty of space between us. From the hallway, Fina gave me a faint smile, then walked out of view, but I knew she’d be close by.

  I risked a glance at Danilo. His dark hair was styled back but slightly mussed up, and he was dressed completely in black. I didn’t usually like black, but it looked very handsome on Danilo.

  He turned to me, dark eyes locking on mine. My skin heated even more, and I had to look down into my lap. He cleared his throat. “What you overheard in the lobby wasn’t meant for your ears.”

  I nodded. “It’s okay. I know you wanted Serafina.” My voice shook.

  “Sofia,” Danilo said in a firm voice that made me look up. I wasn’t sure what his expression meant. He definitely didn’t look happy. “I chose you. Serafina and I won’t work after what happened. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. That’s why I said what I said.”

  I searched his face briefly before looking away. He looked honest, but a hint of doubt remained in me. What I’d seen downstairs hadn’t seemed like a show for Fina. Danilo had looked honestly disappointed over losing her. Yet, I wanted to believe that he had really chosen me to be his future bride, that Dad didn’t have to talk him into it.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  I forced a smile. “Yeah.”

  “Good.” He stood, and for a moment, our eyes met again. His mouth tightened in a way I didn’t understand, then he turned and left.

  I peered down at my hands, torn between excitement and disappointment. Wiggling my fingers, I wondered when I’d get an engagement ring. Fina had gotten hers immediately when our parents had decided on the bond.

  But maybe this time, they’d wait. It would be frowned upon if an engagement was made public so shortly after Fina was saved.

  I stood and headed over to my bed. I grabbed my stuffed animals and tossed them to the ground, then removed a few embarrassing posters of horses from my walls. After I’d removed a few too-frilly dresses from my wardrobe and tossed them on the stuffed animal heap, I hurried downstairs to grab a garbage bag. Danilo wanted someone as poised as my sister. If I wanted him to want me, I couldn’t act like a little girl anymore.

  Returning home after ending my engagement to Serafina felt like admitting defeat. Few of my men knew of the cancelation yet. If it had been up to me, I’d have kept the matter under the rug for a while, but Father had insisted we tell our Captains.

  That’s why I’d called for a meeting first thing after I returned to Indianapolis. I had ten Captains who were
responsible for different areas of the business. One of them was my cousin Marco, who happened to be one of my best friends. His father had died a few months ago from the same cancer that was slowly devouring my father. They’d both been chain smokers since their teenage days, and both paid the bitter price for it.

  I flipped open the Zippo, then closed it. I’d stopped smoking six months ago exactly because of this, but I couldn’t part ways with the lighter that my grandfather had given to me for my fourteenth birthday.

  I cleared my throat, realizing my men had been staring at me and waiting for me to say something. I’d called them in, after all. They sat around the long glass table in my office, their eyes on me. I was the youngest, even Marco was almost a year older than me. When I’d started holding meetings in my own house and no longer in my parents’ mansion, I’d made sure to keep my office as modern and functional as possible—glass and sleek black wood. I wanted to show my men that things would change now that I was in power, and outward appearances always were a good start. My father had been a good Underboss, but I had to find my own style of ruling.

  I pushed up from my chair, preferring to stand so I could have a good view of everyone.

  So far, only Marco knew of the engagement debacle.

  Steeling myself, I told my men about the canceled engagement. Their reactions ranged from surprise to approval. None of them seemed to consider it a bad thing.

  My oldest Captain nodded. His white hair showed his age, that of a man who’d served as a Captain in Indianapolis for longer than I had been on earth—a fact he’d sometimes let show in the beginning. “It makes sense. They can’t expect you to marry someone the enemy has defiled.”

  I gritted my teeth. My first instinct was to contradict him and tell him the truth—that I hadn’t canceled the engagement but my fiancée had.

  Instead, I nodded, too proud to admit defeat. Marco didn’t say anything, nor did he react. I went on to tell them about my engagement with Sofia, and as expected, my men accepted the bond. For them, all that mattered was that our territory got the recognition it deserved. Women were interchangeable if they had the expected status. It wasn’t uncommon for girls to be promised at an early age, even to older men, as long as the wedding was postponed until after their eighteenth birthday.

  Despite their acceptance of the bond, a bitter aftertaste remained in my mouth after telling them. I’d always been glad to have a bride my age. Serafina and I would have had at least a few things in common. We knew the same people from our shared social events. Apart from that, Serafina and I shared our outward poised behavior. We could have made a marriage work.

  I doubted Sofia and I had anything in common, certainly not now. She was a little kid. When I’d seen her pink room with the pony posters on her walls, I’d considered canceling the whole thing, but again my pride stopped me. I wanted to marry someone high-ranking, someone close to Dante to establish my power even more, and that left only Sofia.

  Soon the discussion turned to our usual updates regarding drug trade and the Bratva problem.

  I was glad when the meeting was over. Only Marco remained to have a drink. We played a round of darts while having a cold beer without saying a single word to each other. Marco knew me well enough to recognize my need for silence.

  Eventually, after my second beer, I leaned against the pool table in my man cave—as my mother always called it. “What do you think?”

  Marco slanted me a look and took a deliberate sip from his drink. We were often mistaken for brothers because of the similarities in our looks. Same brown hair and eyes, and the famous strong Mancini chin.

  He gave a shrug. “It’s a messed-up deal. You realize neither Emma nor Sofia will be happy if they find out you and Samuel struck an agreement to marry each other’s sister.”

  Emma would be devastated. Sofia probably wouldn’t react much better. But in our circles, every marriage was based on a deal of sorts. Always quid pro quo. Love was very rarely the reason behind a bond. “They won’t find out.”

  The look Marco gave me was full of doubt. “You know how easily rumors spread in our circles.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the deal when I asked for your opinion,” I clarified. “I’m talking about Sofia. I don’t know how I feel about marrying her. What do you think?”

  “You won’t marry her for another six years. Until then, even you, stubborn bastard that you are, will have gotten over losing Serafina. You get a Cavallaro niece, that’s what matters, right?”

  It should have. From a tactical standpoint, my position hadn’t been weakened. And yet, it felt like I’d taken a deep fall. “She’s too young.”

  “Of course, she is, but it’s not like you’re marrying her any time soon. Trust me, in ten or fifteen years, you’ll thank your lucky stars that you have a young wife.”

  “We’ll see.” I motioned at the dart board again. “Another round.”

  Marco grabbed the darts without protest and began throwing. “What about Emma?”

  “What about her?”

  “She was supposed to live with you so your mother can focus on caring for your dad. But now that Serafina won’t be moving in, that’s not going to work out, right?”

  “Emma’s been getting more independent these last few months. She doesn’t need as much support as she used to. I’ll employ a nanny who specializes in children with disabilities. The maids can take care of the rest.”

  “You realize that you work a lot and are barely home? It’s not like you’ll have a ton of time to spend with her.”

  “I’ll make time,” I muttered.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Danilo. You have to stop blaming yourself for the accident.”

  I glared at him. “This discussion is over.”

  Marco sighed but finally shut up and continued to play darts.

  Emma’s accident wasn’t something I wanted to think about, much less discuss with him. It was bad enough that it haunted my dreams.

  The next day, I visited my parents. Emma still lived with them, but I’d promised her that she could move in with me today.

  When I stepped into the house I’d grown up in, my chest tightened like it always did on my visits lately. The soft whir of Emma’s wheelchair sounded, and she appeared in the doorway of the living room, worry reflected in her brown eyes. Her still-wet hair was piled atop her head in a messy bun. I’d tried to protect her from the darkness of the last few months, but Serafina’s kidnapping had been the trending topic in our circles, even among the children. Emma had witnessed the tumultuous events at my canceled wedding. She knew more than she should.

  I headed over to her and hugged her, kissing her forehead before I straightened. She felt frail in my arms, as if a strong gust of wind could break her. “How are you?”

  In the first months after the accident, she’d often felt an almost stabbing pain in her legs—not to mention the emotional turmoil she’d been experiencing when she realized she wouldn’t be able to use her legs like she used to, would never dance ballet again.

  “I’m fine, but what about you? Mom told me that you can’t marry Serafina anymore and have to marry Sofia instead.” She and Sofia were the same age, and both had already suffered the cruel side effects of being raised in the mafia. Occasionally, they had played together at gatherings. Now, Emma could only sit on the sidelines while the other kids ran around. All the anger and resentment of the past mixed with the new rage I felt, but I swallowed it.

  “I don’t mind. I’ll marry Sofia in six years. That’s a good thing.” It was a lie I’d have to use a lot in the future.

  Emma tilted her head as if she wasn’t sure what to believe. Suddenly, harsh coughing flooded down the stairs from the second floor.

  Emma winced. “Dad’s been worse these last few days. I’m scared for him.”

  I squeezed her shoulder. She had her own future to worry about, and yet fate had cruelly added Father’s deteriorating health to her plate of worries. The coughing continued, and Mom’s vo
ice rang out.

  “Let me check on them,” I said. I hurried up the stairs and found my parents in the bathroom of their master suite. Dad perched on the bathtub, bent over, his body shaking as he coughed. Splatters of blood dotted the tiles at his feet and his mouth was covered with it as well. My mother was rubbing his back, her face ashen as she whispered words of reassurance.

  They were lies. One look at Dad was enough to tell anyone that the coming Christmas would be his last—if he even made it that far.

  I didn’t allow the dreaded sadness to take root in me.

  Dad looked up and slowly straightened from his hunched position. His struggle to contain more coughs showed on his pasty skin. He wiped the blood off his lips with the back of his hand, and Mom quickly handed him a washcloth. While he cleaned his face, she came over to me and kissed my cheek. Her eyes swam with fear. “I don’t know what we did to deserve this,” she whispered.

  I did. Maybe Mom preferred to pretend my father and I were normal businessmen, but we all knew that wasn’t true. Dad staggered to his feet and gave me a weak smile. “The deal with Pietro stands?”

  I’d reported back to him right after my meeting with Samuel, Pietro, and Dante. I wasn’t sure if he just wanted me to confirm it again or if his memory was starting to get spotty due to his sickness. “Everything’s settled, but like I said, Emma’s engagement to Samuel stays a secret for the time being.”

  “I think it’s a mistake to wait to announce the bond,” Mom said. “Maybe people would stop pitying her if they knew she’s going to marry a future Underboss. And maybe Cincinnati will realize their mistake. May they rot in hell, all of them.” Mother crossed herself as if God would grant her wish to her that way.

  “If we announce it now, people will catch on and realize we struck a deal. Emma will be devastated if she finds out Samuel only agreed to marry her if I marry Sofia.”

  “You would have married Sofia either way,” Dad said.

  It was true. Sofia was a good match for me, at least from a political standpoint.

  And yet it felt as if I’d been bested.