Before I got the door open, I knew he was gone. Knowing that he’d said goodbye in my dream. Knowing that I was left alone. I saw his lifeless body before I ran to him. Jax grabbed me into his arms, but I fought him. I wanted to wrap myself in Papa’s arms. I wanted him to open his eyes and hug me, tell me that I was his beautiful princess. But he’d never do that again. He was gone, and I knew it. I knew that he left me. Momma left and now him.
“Bella, it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”
Tears exploded once more from my already tired eyes, but my cries were silent now. I could feel the pain on the inside, but everything on the outside was numb and non-existent.
Jax watched me with a careful expression, I had him worried. Big strong Jax, the boss of the Chicago outfit was worried for someone other than himself. He worried for me.
“When?” I asked, knowing it hadn’t been long.
“A few minutes before you came in.” His eyes were careful, his tone was gentle and soothing. “The nurse woke me up when your father opened his eyes.”
My eyes were as wide as they could be. “Why didn’t you wake me?” I asked with a shrill screech.
He shrugged. “I didn’t know what was going on and you were exhausted. I didn’t want to wake you before I knew there was a reason to.” His knuckles ran across my tear-stained face.
“What happened?”
“We spoke for a moment, right before.” He paused.
“And!” I demanded to know what’d happened, what he’d allowed me to miss during my father’s last moments.
“Bella…” He paused again, taking a deep breath. “He asked that I take care of you. He asked me to love and protect his princess. Then he took his last breath and just like that… he was gone.”
My mouth opened. My eyes widened. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. His deathbed request was for Jax to love me. To protect his princess. I was his very last word. Princess. The very last word he would ever speak. The last word anyone would ever hear him say.
The breath left my lungs. My chest felt tight, my heart pounded so quickly against my ribs I thought I was having a heart attack right there in front of Papa and Jax. A full blown heart attack. I couldn’t breathe. I gasped for air. I begged for it. My breaths were short and fast. Jax stood screaming for help. His voice echoed in my ears, but I couldn’t make out the words. Everything became blurred and just like that, darkness took over.
I’d let it win for now.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
—Bella—
Darkness loomed over my head like a thick cloud, I prayed for the storm to just run its course and allow the darkness to swallow me whole. I wondered, if my father’s death would be the turning point for me. He'd been my rock, my everything and now he was gone. How had I gone from a happy carefree girl to a sad, depressed, angry woman? It didn’t matter what I wanted for my life. It didn’t matter that I’d been forced into marring the man who would run this family. I’d probably be swept under the rug and left alone. Jax didn’t, or should I say, wouldn’t love me. Well, hell, who was I kidding? He wouldn’t, couldn’t, it was all the same. But either way, love was off the table. I knew that... he'd made that very clear.
The droplets of cool rain peppered against my toes as I sat on the deck of my father’s home in Detroit. Spring was finally here thank God because the cold winter had become redundant. The door creaked and clanking of the wooden deck followed. I didn’t want to have the conversation I knew was coming. My body tensed…there wasn’t a way out of it, I knew that.
“It's Saturday.” The bravado from Jax’s voice as he approached was welcome because it made me feel safe, but I could do without the content that followed.
“Mhmm,” I nodded as I slipped my feet off of the chair next to me.
“Are you ready?” The hum of certainty he exuded excited me. I was intrigued by his confidence.
My head shifted to the left. There he stood, his suit clad body facing me while he watched with his dark eyes. “I don’t need to be reminded.” I narrowed my eyes at him. I would not let him think that he controlled me.
When Papa died I lost it and Jax sent me into an inpatient psychiatric hospital. I vowed I would never let him see me like that again. I was upset, hurt, and angry that my father left me. Isn’t that what happens when people die? Apparently, sadness is a weakness that won’t be tolerated. All of the women in the Costa Nostra cry when someone dies, so why couldn’t I?
“Why are you so set on being difficult, Bella?” he hissed, it was obvious I infuriated him.
I remembered that nice guy he'd been or maybe I imagined it. I was sure he'd calm down by now. That hadn’t happened yet.
I blew out a breath. “Must you always be so overbearing?” I shot back. He was, and I hated him for it. I hadn’t been allowed to see Emily or the staff that I’d practically grown up with. Tony and Sal weren’t allowed to be around me either, and they were like my brothers. I had sat in the house for the last month, alone. Well, Alessandra was here. Jax only allowed his staff to care for me, even Papa’s gardener had been fired and replaced.
But today was Saturday, the day he would be confirmed as the head of this family. I wasn’t allowed to attend the actual event of course; women weren’t allowed to be a part of those pieces of the darkness their husbands swore themselves to. However, the family would get together for dinner after the fact. A huge celebration would take place which was usually centered around food. I told him I wasn’t going to go. I refused. He was taking my father’s place after-all. But that was only one of my many defiant tactics I used, as an excuse not to go. Another way to piss him off.
I remained seated on the chair while I slipped my red polished toes inside the silver sandals. I opened my mouth to spit something back but decided against it. I’d wasted too much energy being negative, it was all negative. I felt myself falling into a dark hole. Yes, I was having a pity party and the pity table only seated one, me.
A few seconds had passed without me responding, he hated that. I think worse than me back talking to him, he hated my silence. So of course, I was silent more than not recently.
“Why must you always act like this?” His fists tightened into balls at his sides.
I stood from the chair and faced the lake as I enjoyed the calm and peacefulness it offered. A gush of air brushed my face and I smiled. “I’ll get ready.” I drew a long, deep breath, of the fresh air and sidestepped past him as I entered the house. Jax was still, he never waiver, and my eyes met his only for a moment as I passed his large frame. The thing I liked about being in his company was the aroma of his expensive cologne. He smelled of spicy with a hint of floral undertone and it was delicious.
***
“Your dress is ready.” Alessandra said while she moved swiftly through the room.
I watched her as I stood silently holding my hands limp at my sides. I was numb and angry, I didn’t like feeling anger burn in the pit of my chest. I also didn’t like feeling alone and I hated Jax Moretti for making me feel that way… alone. He hated me as well—the feeling was mutual. Why? I had no idea. We didn’t talk, communicate, or any of the other things married couples were supposed to do. When we were together there was only silence between us. I caught his eyes watching me several times, observing me. A dark glower circled into the delta of darkness in his eyes. We'd eat silently then he'd excuse himself to return to his office leaving me alone, and I resented him for it.
Maybe I resented him because he didn’t want me. Maybe I was jealous of whoever he did want. We had been married for months, and he hadn’t even kissed me. I was sure I would’ve slapped him if he'd tried, but he didn’t try. He looked passed me as though I didn’t exist. Except for today, when he needed me to be the good mafia princess, appearances and all that bullshit.
Alessandra released the long, deep crimson gown from its plastic dress bag and held it at the hanger and hem in attempts not to wrinkle the satin. This dress wasn’t my favorite, but I didn’t get to
pick the dress, Jax had arranged it, insisted actually. Every detail was personally tended to by him. My opinion was moot and it was ridiculous for me to bother. I’d turned into the woman I never wanted to be, kept. Except I was more like held prisoner. He’d insisted on it.
Jax hadn’t left the house for two days. I wasn’t sure what had kept him home, I didn’t ask and he didn't tell. It only meant more fabulous silence.
“Why don’t you give Mr. Moretti a chance? He picked this beautiful gown for you, Bella. You’re too hard on him.” Her large, warm, chocolate eyes pleaded.
Alessandra thought of Jax as a son. She hadn’t come right out and said as much, but she revered him. This was her downfall, but I would forgive her… eventually.
My eyes fell to hers. “Don’t start with this again,” I pleaded as I smiled sweetly. She was constantly trying to get us talking, but I didn’t want that. No, correction; Jax didn’t want that. I did try, sort of. Well, perhaps not a lot and maybe not at all, but he certainly wasn’t trying. I didn’t know why he watched me with such disdain, I just knew that he did. So I’d chosen to hate him as much as he hated me. My heart was safer if I did.
She quivered her head and mumbled something in Sicilian. She literally mumbled, making it difficult to understand. I was fairly certain she was calling me foolish, however. I turned to examine myself in the same mirror that I had when the day I married Jax. Still the same girl, but now my flaws were even more pronounced than they had been then. The woman that regarded me in the mirror now was weaker in ways no one but me could see. She was heartbroken and alone.
One day I’d be happy. One day I’d be loved.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
—Bella—
Spring had definitely arrived and with it came lots of rain. The trees had budded, and soon the grounds would be filled with flowers. I beamed with many memories that the rainfall evoked. The grounds would soon become a blooming utopia. Spring was my favorite time of the year. No matter what had happened in the long, cold winter months, you could always depend on new life to flourish in the spring. New opportunities were guaranteed to come.
I took in the new blooms, adoring their silky finish as we walked along the stone—pathed garden and entered the corridor to the party. The wives waited and chatted amongst themselves about their boring lives. Momma hated these get-togethers, but she went to every single one of them without complaint, however.
The party was being hosted at the home of Tito Toscano, the underboss for the Sagatori crime family. I’d never been invited in the past. I was the daughter then, but now, I was the wife. I knew that Tito's wife was a small Sicilian woman that had handled most of the dinners since Momma passed. But before that Momma had been the one to organize these functions. She was always organizing something. She really enjoyed helping and being productive.
The long walk through the corridor gave me time I desperately needed to adjust to the feeling I had of Jax's hand covering mine; for show of course. His hand was warm and tense; the insurmountable stress was palpable in his touch. The doors were opened for us; two suit-clad men stood rigid as they greeted us with an unwelcome pat-down sliding unnecessarily across my breasts.
A snarl erupted from Jax’s’ throat and the man quickly stepped away. “Sorry, Mr. Moretti, my apologies.” Jax’s eyes were wicked. He had to maintain authority and composure if he was going to have the respect the boss needed to lead this family. I’d seen it for years with Papa, he’d never take anyone’s shit.
Our feet smoothly stepped in line with each other’s. Jax wore a dark suit, crimson tie, and matching handkerchief folded neatly into the pocket of his jacket. My eyes fell to the ground watching our feet stride in sync. His strides were longer and smoother than mine. I desperately prayed my long gown wouldn’t cause me to trip on my face. I also needed to maintain composure as his wife. Could you imagine the laughs behind our backs if I messed this up? But as if he knew I was anxious his hand clutched tightly onto mine.
“Moretti.” The bald-headed man who had approached reverberated. “Welcome to my home.” His beady eyes met mine and a smile pecked at his thin lips while his hand extended towards my torso. I wasn’t sure but it felt as if Jax’s hand had tensed at Tito’s approach towards me. “Isabella. Your father was a good man, a respected man.” His eyes were mischievous. I’d seen that look before. I’d of course seen several of these men at Papa’s funeral, but they only shook my hand giving their condolences and then departed ways.
“Yes, it’s good to see you again.” My voice cracked while an involuntary shiver tattered my skin. I was all too aware he was the epitome of a made man.
His eyes stayed on me for a second too long making me feel uncomfortable, but I wouldn’t let him know how he made me feel. Screw that shit. I was Bella Sagatori, well actually I was Bella Moretti, but I was still my father’s daughter and weakness wasn’t in our blood. So I smiled, meeting his stare head on. I stood tall in my three-inch heels and squeezed his hand, not like a dainty princess, but like a woman who could reach into her bag, take out a gun, point it to his portly temple, and pull the trigger without hesitation. Okay, I’m dramatic, I didn’t have a gun because they weren’t allowed inside these gatherings. They were kept in the car or confiscated. Jax had left is gold finished guns; the ones he always carried— in the car, and I didn’t have a gun so that was pretty much wishful thinking.
Momma had a few of these ladies over when I was younger, and I’d see them drinking wine and laughing, but that was grown up time. I played upstairs with the other children who came with the women, the other Cosa nostra children. We were clueless what our parents’ had been up to. We didn’t care either. They loved us and that was all that mattered. To others, our life may have been strange, but to us, it was as normal as it could possibly be.
Jax drew me into his side. I could hear his breaths, feel his chest heave once then twice. “Stay with the women… I’ll be back shortly.” I nodded again. “Dominic will be with you the entire time, if you need anything ask. Understand?” I didn’t answer. I examined him, seeing worry etched into the lines around his darkly shadowed eyes. Apprehension. “Bella, do you understand?” He dipped his head, so I did what I always did. I rolled my eyes and turned towards Dominic. I wasn’t his puppet, he could fuck off. But as soon as I turned he was behind me grasping my shoulders tightly with his lips were at the apex of my ear. “If I give an order it’s for a good reason. If you'd like to be difficult, wait until we’re home.” I turned and met his glower. From my peripheral, I could see a few women advance so I smiled, and yes, I nodded. I would’ve simply walked away, but showing my disdain at that moment would’ve led to trouble, so I simply nodded like a good little wife.
Jax dipped his head for the ladies and walked into the direction of Tito. Subconsciously, I watched as he sauntered away. Right hand tucked loosely inside his suit slacks, elongated stride, the smooth edge of his bottom, and the flex of his shoulders. His footsteps halted and his torso swiveled into my direction revealing a glimpse of his perfection. His dark eyes met mine with hunger; a fire loomed over him and goosebumps peppered my flesh.
“Isabella, welcome to my home. I was wondering when I’d get you over here,” Margarete exclaimed. She was an older woman, approximately early fifties. Dark brown curly hair. Four eleven, round pudgy torso. She was perfect. The smile on her cheeks told me she was happy I was there. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. She looped her arm with mine and leaned into me. “I hate this boring shit.” She sighed. My eyes swelled. She was not what I had been expecting... I liked her already. “Wine?” she asked as a waiter approached holding a silver tray.
“Yes, please.” I rotated my wrist watching as the fruitful liquid swirled in the glass. My eyes wandered around seeing the ladies in beautiful gowns. The room was white. All white. Very modern and yet classy-elegant. Margarete had good taste.
“So, tell me about yourself,” she said as she leaned her black satin clad arm on a chair.
I
smiled. “My father is, or…was, Anthony Sagatori.” Well, he was my father. He is, still, but now he’s gone. I pushed back the knot in my throat and drew a smile to my lips. “I’m married to Jax Moretti and…”
She shook her head. “No dear, tell me about you. I know all of those other things already, sweet girl.” I was surprised by her response. I thought I was supposed to just smile and nod at these functions. But now, I’m supposed to make friends? Okay, I was confused, but I’d roll with it. I didn’t trust these people. My father taught me never to trust anyone and except for a select few, I’d never trusted anyone completely. I wasn’t stupid. “Listen, you’re the boss’ wife. Fabulous. But if you want to fit in with these ladies you’re gonna have to be yourself. These women are good women, Isabella. Just give them a chance.” She seemed sincere.
“I just…”
“Honey, I knew your mother very well. If there was one thing that women are good at, it’s making friends. She loved a good party and her family, but she knew how to just be… ya know what I’m saying?” I did understand.
“Yes.” I smiled.
“Good.” She bowed slightly. “Let’s meet the ladies. That’s Tonya in the pink. She always wears pink. She lives in cotton candy land.” I threw my hand to my mouth stifling a laugh, but she ignored me. That’s Jezebel or “Jess” in the blue. Very funny and sweet girl, but,” she pointed her finger. “If you piss her off you’d better hope your weave is stitched in.” Noted. “Trista, she's the one wearing the white dress. Smart girl, but lets her shit for brains husband walk all over her.” She moved her head back and forth. She drew me around, watched me, her eyes a dark brown. “You don't know anyone here, do you?” I shook my head. “Okay let's introduce you to the girls. Lizzie is somewhere around; she’ll show up eventually.” Margarete held my arm as she walked us into the grand great room. How did she keep all of this white so…white? “Ah, Lizzie,” she said from my left side. I turned into the direction she'd been speaking to see a beautiful blonde crossing the corridor. She wore a long green dress and silver shoes peeking out from just under the hem. Her hair was wrapped in a bun, and her lips were hugged by a bright red smile. I’d noticed that this group of ladies all wore something different, and it surprised me that no one else wore red after seeing how beautiful they all were. Crimson has always felt like such a powerful color. I suppose when I walked in here tonight I had preconceived notions about these ladies, but maybe they weren’t all bad. I, on the other hand, was forced to wear this loud vibrant color.
Bella: The Begining (Sagatori Family Saga #1) Page 11
