“What’s it going to be on the paperwork?” Capo said, not giving me more time to think. “Your name.”
“Will I be in danger?” It was the first time I thought to ask. I was so busy being dazzled by the chance to live that I forgot about the dim veil of death.
“Yes,” he said, no hesitation. “You’ve always been in danger. I did the best I could with what I was given at the time. You being on the streets, not attracting attention to yourself, kept them off your scent, so to speak. There are other factors as well. The Faustis, for one. No one touches what belongs to them unless they have a death wish. As you can tell, I consider them family. I trust them as much as I can. However, that doesn’t change the truth. I can’t promise something that isn’t mine to give, which is complete protection against life. But I will vow to keep you safe at the cost of my own.”
“You already did, didn’t you?”
He became silent for a minute. Then he repeated, “What will it be on the paperwork?”
“Mariposa,” I said, no hesitation. “Mariposa.”
He nodded once, about to go to the door to get Rocco. I could tell he was ready to move forward.
“Capo.”
He stopped but didn’t turn.
“What…what’ll be my last name?”
“Macchiavello.” He took a breath. “Mariposa Macchiavello.” He sounded satisfied. “It’s not the name that pleases me. It’s that no matter where it came from, it came from me, and you’ll be wearing it like a fucking ring around your finger.”
He left me alone then, shutting the door behind with a soft click.
I wilted in the seat when I was alone. All of a sudden, I realized that he was the only man I would ever owe. And he knew it. He knew it at all along.
He wanted loyalty. He had secured it at all costs.
But never again would anyone, including the man who intended to be my husband, Capo Macchiavello, kill me with kindness. Because kindness didn’t kill you quickly. It ate at you slowly, like acid, until you wished you were dead.
10
Mariposa
Two weeks later, Capo drove us to Staten Island in one of his many fast cars. The man had a car fetish. My original assumption about his cars matching his ties was off base, but close to the truth. He seemed to have a car for every occasion.
The one he drove seemed a little overkill for where we were headed: the party Harrison was throwing for Keely’s big Broadway break. When I asked Capo what kind of car it was, he said, “Bugatti Veyron.” I was clueless when it came to cars, so I just tucked it away as being a matte black beast that could probably be used on a racetrack.
He had been picking me up on “dates” since our meeting. After I explained the situation to Keely, she seemed to accept it, but I could tell she was suspicious. Still, that didn’t stop her from making a comment about how fine Capo was when she first met him.
“Shit,” she had said. “That singer—what’s her name? The one who always writes about her boyfriends?—has no idea what she’s missing out on around here lately. Lots and lots and lots of creative inspiration. That tattoo on his hand has me wanting to lick it, not to mention that perfect face and that tight-ass body. Are you sure he’s real, Mari? The man doesn’t have one fucking flaw.”
I hadn’t found one yet, except for his coldness. It didn’t seem like he meant it, but there was something guarded about him at all times. It seemed like he had to make an effort to remove it when we were together. At The Club, in the darkness, he had been warm, dare I say welcoming, but in the daylight, he was as hard as a frigid wave.
His standoffishness didn’t take away from how well he seemed to know me already, though, because already, he was giving me things, experiences, I’d only written about in Journey. Our dates seemed tailored to fit me.
After our meeting, he had given me a card with the set amount of money on it. He told me I had to use it or he’d assume I was reneging on my end of the deal. This was, after all, an arrangement with terms.
I needed a new wardrobe. I worked on that.
I needed to start eating better. I jumped on that.
I had people to see about our two weddings. I did that.
Rocco’s secretary, Giada, made a comment about my hair when I’d gone to meet the wedding planner who took care of things in Italy. Most of my meetings took place at Rocco’s office. I still had no idea where Capo lived.
Giada secured me an appointment with one of New York’s hottest hair stylists, Sawyer Phillips, the same day. The Faustis had some real pull. Sawyer was kind to me, though, and after we were done, my hair was rich chestnut brown with swirls of caramel in the mix. The change was almost shocking.
My eyes were much more vibrant and my skin glowed from the inside out. It could have been that I was eating well, too, and not as stressed about where I was going to sleep and where my next meal was coming from. But…I had a standing appointment with Sawyer indefinitely after the first one, and two girls who did my nails.
I also had a man named Giovanni who followed me around when il capo wasn’t with me. I only saw Capo in the evenings for our dates, so I spent more time with Giovanni. He was a nice guy, and I usually didn’t mind him tagging along. I couldn’t help but notice how…different he was compared to Capo and the men who worked for or were related to the Faustis, though.
Giovanni wasn’t as attractive, which made no difference to me, but it seemed like Capo did it on purpose. And Giovanni and I had nothing in common. Zero things to talk about except for the weather and the things he liked and disliked about New York. He was from Italy.
Capo. My appearance. Even Giovanni.
There were so many changes in such a short period of time. I woke up knowing that some part of my life was going to be different. And after the wedding, I felt things were going to change even more. Capo seemed to be biding his time with the “dating” part of the deal. He wanted it to be official. Still, I hadn’t expected one thing:
I still felt like…me, just without the extra stressors.
I worried about the price of the clothes I bought. Even about the amount of groceries in my cart. So I bargain hunted, almost afraid the money was going to run out and I’d be left hungry and homeless again, even though I was still staying with Keely until her lease was up and I’d be married.
Some things would never change, I guessed. There’d always be a certain amount of fear in me. A certain amount of I can afford that, but what about that? Can I have a drink and fries?
All of these changes had to be explained to Keely, though, so she wouldn’t get too suspicious. So I told her that even though Capo didn’t give me the job, Rocco offered me one. I worked in his office as a gopher girl. To make this true, because I felt guilty about lying to her, I brought Giada coffee whenever I arrived.
Capo had nodded and said, “Bene,” when I had told him about what I had told Keely. We had to keep the story straight.
Capo’s hand came over both of mine after I sighed. “Stop fidgeting. It makes you look nervous.”
“I am,” I said. “Nervous.”
I’d been twirling the engagement ring he’d given me around my finger. It was a four-carat antique stunner. The central diamond was oval shaped. There was another surrounding layer of diamonds around the center. And then more diamonds on the sides. It was real artsy, feminine, and I could’ve sworn the side scrollwork and diamonds created abstract butterflies.
The only reason I knew the carat size was because Capo had told me. He didn’t want me to be worried about anything on the ring being a three. As far as I was concerned, he could’ve given me a simple gold band. The thing was heavy and sometimes I was afraid that someone would cut my finger off for it.
He had made the moment special, though. He’d taken me on a helicopter ride around New York at dusk, and after we landed, he told me to check my bag. I found a new coloring book inside. The title said: The Mariposa Princess. I had smiled when I opened it. It was a thick book and the first half of it wa
s filled with character portraits of me in many different poses.
He told me to keep going and only stop when I got halfway through. The second half of the book had been carved out, but the ring sat in the center, and it was made to look like it was on my left finger. The bottom of the page had writing in elegant script: When you know, you know. I had slipped the coloring book back in my bag, the thought of it more valuable than the ring.
“That way we have a real story to tell,” he’d said. “No lies to keep track of.” He had slipped the ring on my finger, and we hadn’t spoken about it since.
I told Keely about it earlier that day. I didn’t want her to be taken by surprise during her party, and I didn’t want to announce it to all of her family. It was her day. I told her to tell if she wanted, but I was keeping quiet.
She hadn’t kept quiet after I’d told her. “It’s too soon! You hardly know him. He’s affiliated with one of the most powerful criminal families in history. And do you know what that means? They’re probably the reason he’s richer than sin!”
He was richer than sin.
When we were going over the financial side of things during our arrangement meeting, all that Capo owned was made clear to me. Not only did he own one of the most successful restaurants, but one of the most successful clubs and a string of fancy hotels. I knew his wealth better than I knew him as a man. And if he had criminal dealings? He hadn’t disclosed them at the meeting. I hadn’t asked either.
Not wanting to listen to her as she continued on the same path, I had taken out the coloring book he had given me, the ring, and showed them both to her. She’d read the inscription at the bottom of the page out loud.
When you know, you know.
“Do you truly want this, Mari?” she had asked, staring me in the eye. “If you say yes, I’ll back off.”
I grinned at that. “Yeah, Kee,” I said. “I really do. But we both know that you’re not going to back off.”
She barked out a laugh, hugging me tight, kissing my forehead. “You know it. I’m your big sister. I’ll always take care of you.”
“By two weeks, Kee!”
“Italy. My Sis is getting married in Italy!”
I got the feeling our wedding was going to be considered big news at this party. That put me on edge. I wasn’t sure how Harrison was going to react. After learning about his feelings for me…I hoped my marrying Capo wouldn’t make things awkward between us.
Capo had agreed that I could tell Keely early, but I wasn’t sure how he was going to react to Harrison. I kept thinking about how he’d said, no one touches my wife but me. It was intense. Possessive. From the tone of his voice alone, he still ran with wolves. It was as clear as the tattoo on his hand.
“You dropped out of college.”
Those five words pulled me out of the nervous fog I was in.
“How—” I went to ask how he knew that, but I stopped myself. When he said he knew everything, he did. “Yeah. It didn’t work out.”
We were still holding hands, and as lost as I was in my thoughts, I realized that he used his thumb to make a soft pattern on my skin. He was making a ‘C.’ He held my hand a lot out in public, the only intimacy between us since our night in The Club, but he only made the ‘C’ pattern while we were in the car. It helped, especially when I realized how close we were to arriving.
“Work got in the way and then you were fired.”
“That about sums it up.”
“You should rethink going back. You’ll have the free time, when you’re not busy with me. Rocco suggested law.”
“Law?” I laughed, but he gave me a serious look, so I changed gears. “Why law?”
“He was impressed with the way you handled yourself during our meeting. You stood up for yourself. You were willing to bend on the terms you didn’t feel were all that important, but the ones you did—” he shrugged “—you took your gloves off and fought barehanded. You’re an excellent negotiator, Mariposa.”
They were impressed that I stood up to them. It didn’t seem like a lot of people did that. Men or women. I had nothing to lose when I went into that office, and once I found out that Capo was interested in me, I had something to bargain with. I think he knew that. I think he wanted that from me. Which made me respect him even more. He knew I was going in with nothing but a bag full of old memories, a journal, and stale bread. He gave me a bargaining chip. Me.
“I’ll consider it.” Law had never even crossed my mind. It seemed too unattainable, something only rich people with connections succeeded at. Maybe I’d ask Harrison about his feelings on the matter… The thought of Harrison made my palms sweat, so I changed the subject. “Were you going to pick Sierra?”
“What made you think of her?”
I shrugged, trying not to fiddle. “Rocco. The arrangement. It popped in my head.”
We drove on for about five minutes before he answered. “She was one of my top choices.”
“Because she was beautiful?”
“No, because she was one of the hungriest.”
Ah. It was like that. She was both literally and figuratively starving. He was looking for the hungriest of the bunch, a woman that would fall into the dizzying spell of his magnetic force. He had everything a girl could ever want. Looks. Charm. Money. And he carried a strong sense of I’ll always take care of you if I call you mine. Throw in a girl like Sierra, like me, and loyalty to someone like him would be high. We rarely got chances like him.
“Did…a connection have anything to do with it?”
“Depends on what you mean by ‘connection.’ If you mean sexually compatible, a strong physical attraction, yes.”
My cheeks heated, and not from embarrassment. I was a little jealous that he felt that way about Sierra. Sexually attracted to her. I wondered if they had sex, since she worked at his club, but I didn’t want to bring that up either. “Were you going to give her this ring, if you chose her?” I lifted it up and he gave it a sideways glance.
“No.”
He smoothly changed lanes and left it at that. I stared at him, hoping he would give me a little more, but it seemed like he had closed down. I sighed, turning to face the window. The world passed by in a blur. We were going too fast for me to catch up.
The quiet in the car was suddenly killing me. I leaned forward, and for the first time, fiddled with some buttons. I could tell Capo watched me from the side, underneath his glasses, but he didn’t say anything. Finally, I found the stereo. I grinned when I heard the last music he had been listening to. I kept pressing the forward arrow to see what he had on his playlist.
Bee Gees. 2Pac. Andrea Bocelli. White Snake. Sam The Sham & The Pharaohs. Staind. Seven Mary Three. Frank Sinatra. Nazareth. His fancy car displayed the artist’s names and their songs. I had no idea who most of them were, but they were all so different. His music tastes gave me no further insight into who he was. He is a man of extreme mystery, I thought sarcastically. And the rest of his list continued in this genre mishmash fashion.
“You’re laughing at me,” he said. “At my music.”
I laughed even louder, and then pinched my fingers, leaving a small gap between. “A little.”
“You have a warped sense of humor.” He shook his head. “And a wild laugh to go along with it.”
“What’s a wild laugh?”
“Some people cage it up, train it to be what they want it to be, a quiet animal. Some people fake it, hiding the fact that they have nothing to really laugh about. You do neither.”
I continued to laugh, turning on the radio instead of his old man music. He was going to be forty-years old in August, compared to my twenty-two in October. Even though there was an eighteen-year age gap, my time on the streets had aged me. I felt we were close to even on that.
Then a popular pop song came on and the gap widened some. It made me think of Keely and what she had told me about Capo and his family supplying enough creative inspiration for endless songs.
“You can’t be
serious.” He glanced at the radio like it had done something offensive to him. “You’d prefer this chick to Bocelli?”
“Me? Not serious? How could this have happened?” I pretended to pass out against the door, pressing a hand to my forehead. “I’ve got the vapors! Help me, handsome sir!”
“This is what happens when your brain has been on this kind of music for too long. You. You should be the poster child for kids who listen to this.” He switched the music to Bocelli, some real romantic Italian ballad.
I switched it back, feeling lighter than I had all day. Actually, I felt lighter than I had in years. “We’ve listened to your music. Let me listen to mine for a while. And I disagree. I love her music. This is her new stuff. It’s beautiful. Especially this song. Listen.”
My laugh threatened to burst from the cage I’d pushed it into. He was seriously listening to the song, and when he became serious, his thick eyebrows drew down and his lips became severe.
“You have a friend,” he said when the song was close to ending.
“I do,” I said. “But did you really listen? First she mentions a childish kind of love, then a love that takes place while they’re growing up, and then they get married. It is nice to have a best friend, but when your best friend is also your lover, it completes things. I would think, anyway.”
“So philosophical,” he said, and I almost laughed again.
“What? You didn’t get that?”
“All I got is a Tim Burton movie soundtrack stuck in my head now.”
“Who’s Burton?” I asked.
“Edward Scissorhands?”
I shrugged. “Have no clue.”
“It amazes me. You have no idea who Tim Burton or Edward Scissorhands are, but you had a pretty good idea of who the Faustis were when we met.”
“It’s a sad fact of life on the streets. You try to keep ahead of the things that can kill you.” I shrugged. “The rest doesn’t really matter when you’re hungry enough to rob a small kid for his ice cream cone. I doubt Tim Burton and Edward—” I made a motion with my fingers like I was cutting paper with scissors “—would chase me down and kill me, maybe even torture me, if I saw something I wasn’t supposed to.”
Machiavellian: Gangsters of New York, Book 1 Page 12
