by K. A. Ware
“Two days, you?”
“About two minutes,” I said on a scoff.
“I see,” she said, turning her head to look out the window.
I couldn’t help but compare her to Elena. The woman sitting in front of me wasn’t shy or quiet. I could tell by the way she held herself she was a willful woman—the exact opposite of what I wanted in a wife.
We sat in silence until our fathers came to retrieve us. We didn’t have anything more to say to each other.
On the ride back home my mind was consumed with thoughts of how I was going to tell Elena. I hadn’t made her any explicit promises, but the implication was there. We’d talked about how we’d find a way to be together that didn’t involve sneaking around, and in a single meeting, my father had ruined it.
Chapter 5
Marsala, Sicily
April, 1974
Elena
I pretended to wipe down the counter in the kitchen as I watched for Vincenzo to arrive back home. He’d told me it was only a day trip, and they’d be back that evening, but it was almost time for me to catch my bus back home and he wasn’t back yet. I didn’t want to leave without seeing him; visions of every way the meeting could have gone wrong had filled my mind the entire day, and I was sick with worry. Thankfully, Mama had the day off, so I didn’t have to worry about her questioning the mood I’d been in all day. I just needed to know he was all right; then I could go home.
“What are you still doing here?” Donatella’s voice called from behind me.
I spun around only to find that we were alone. “I was just finishing up—“
“I know what you were doing. You were sitting there pining away for my brother,” she sneered.
Shock froze me in place. We’d been so careful. How did she know? “I, I was ju—“
“Please. Don’t try to deny it. I’ve seen the way you look at him. You need to get one thing straight; you’re the help. You will always be the help—nothing more. So don’t get any ideas about sinking your claws into Vincenzo, it will never happen.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about; I wouldn’t—”
“Just go home before I have your pathetic ass fired,” she spat, turning to leave just as quickly as she’d arrived.
Fear settled in my stomach like a thousand rocks. If Donatella had noticed, who else had? Rushing out of the kitchen, I quickly gathered my things and headed to the bus stop at the bottom of the hill. I spent the entire ride home in a daze, my thoughts spinning with what Donatella would do if she knew Vincenzo and I had been sneaking around. We’d grown close over the past months, but I wasn’t sure our bond was strong enough to withstand whatever Donatella had planned. His family meant everything to him, so where did that leave me?
It had been two days since Vincenzo’s visit to Palermo and I’d yet to see him. He hadn’t come out of his room at all. I knew he was back because I’d overheard one of the maids being told to bring his lunch up to his room. It wasn’t as if I could seek him out; it would draw too much attention, especially with Donatella watching me like a hawk.
I lingered around the kitchen, finding miscellaneous jobs to be done in hopes that someone would ask me to bring something up to him. It was a silly thing to wish for, but I was desperate.
“Can you believe they’re only giving us two months’ notice? It’s a wedding, not a dinner party,” Maria, the head cook, complained to one of the other maids.
“Wedding?” I asked. “Is Donatella getting married?”
“Heavens, no!” Maria exclaimed, and then in a side whisper added, “Her father will have to pay someone to marry that one.”
“Then who?” I asked the question I did not want the answer to.
“Vincenzo. Mr. DeLuca just told us. He’s marrying the Caputo girl in June. Can you believe it? Just two months away, there’s so much to do!” she said, turning back to the pot on the stove.
I was thankful no one was looking at me because there was no way I could hide what I was feeling. My heart was shattering, and I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. I darted from the kitchen and through the back door, going to the only place I knew I’d be alone.
But when I rounded the corner out of the vine tunnel, my bench was already occupied.
Chapter 6
Marsala, Sicily
April, 1974
Vincenzo
I’d come out to the garden to think. To find a way to explain everything to Elena without it ending with her hating me, but before I could think of anything, she found me. I had heard her before I saw her, the sound of hurried footsteps preceded her appearance.
When she came into view, I could tell by her tear-streaked face that she knew. As soon as she saw me, she started to back up, moving to turn away and it killed me.
“Elena, wait!”
She stopped retreating but kept her back to me. “Why?” she asked. One word, one simple question that I didn’t know how to explain.
“I didn’t have a choice,” I pleaded.
She spun around to face me, and I felt the full weight of her anguish. “There’s always a choice,” she said, so quietly I almost didn’t hear her.
All I wanted to do was take away her pain. “It’s the only way the two families will agree to make peace,” I implored her to understand.
“Did you know? Before, I mean. Did you know when you left?”
Realization hit me like a truck. She thought I was playing with her, that I’d been in on the plan the whole time. “Elena, no. I didn’t know until I got to Palermo, I swear.”
I pulled her to me, wrapping her tightly in my arms. “I’m sorry,” I whispered into her hair over and over again. I didn’t want to let her go. “What if we run away together?” I asked just as soon as the insane thought came to me.
She pulled away immediately and stared at me as if I’d just lost my mind. “Do you have any idea what your father would do to my family if we ran away?”
“You’re right,” I admitted, pinching the bridge of my nose as I started to pace. “I just don’t know a way around this.”
“Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be,” she said quietly, a fresh wave of tears falling down her cheeks.
“Don’t say that,” I responded quickly. “There has to be some way for us to be together.”
“I don’t see how. If you stay, you have to marry her; if we leave, it puts everyone I love in danger.”
“But I love you!” I shouted.
All of her movements stilled and her face crumpled. “You don’t get to say that—not now, ” she cried.
I’d never told her that before, and the first time she heard it had been right after she’d found out I was marrying someone else. I was an idiot.
“I’m sor—”
“Vincenzo, please don’t. It’s done; there’s nothing more to say.”
I watched, helpless, as she wiped her tears and walked away from me.
Chapter 7
Marsala, Sicily
June, 1974
Elena
Tears blotted the paper as I read every note Vincenzo had ever written me for the hundredth time. I’d done well for the past two months. I’d avoided him at every turn and focused on my job, but now, the night before the wedding as I lie in a strange bed, with him just across the garden in the main house, I couldn’t help but cry.
In some cruel stroke of luck, I’d been chosen to help with the wedding, so I was assigned a small cottage at the edge of the property to stay in for the night, so I’d be available first thing in the morning. I was supposed to have a roommate for the night, but she hadn’t arrived yet. It was just as well; I was in no mood for company.
I’d just tucked the notes away when there was a knock at the door. Assuming it was my roommate, I didn’t bother with a robe and swung open the door in nothing but my nightgown. But it wasn’t another maid; it was Vincenzo.
“What—”
“I needed to see you,” he said, pushing his way past me.
H
is large frame took up too much of the small space. It was just the one room with two small beds and a tiny bathroom off to the side.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I said, closing the door to avoid the cool night air since the cottage didn’t have heat.
“I can’t do this,” he said, running his hands through his hair as he paced the small space between the two beds.
“You’ve already made your choice. You’ve got over a hundred people coming here tomorrow to watch you get married.”
“We can still leave,” he begged. “Elena, we can go right now. I’ve got a car ready to go—all you have to do is say yes.”
“We’ve been through this, Vincenzo. I can’t put my family in danger like that.”
“And I can’t be without you,” he said, stalking towards me.
I started to retreat, but he kept coming until I was backed up against the door. My heart raced at the determined look in his eyes. He caged me in, a hand on either side of my head, and leaned down, just an inch separating our lips.
“I need you,” he whispered. I could feel the heat of his breath on my lips, and it caused a shiver to run through my body.
“But—” I tried to argue, but he placed a thumb on my lips, silencing me.
“No buts.” Removing his thumb, he closed the distance and pressed his lips to mine. I couldn’t help but respond; the longing and desire that I’d tried to repress came bubbling to the surface in an instant. I was lost in him, the heat of his body against mine, the smell of the soap on his skin, the feel of his hands in my loose hair.
When he broke the kiss to trail his tongue down my neck, I started to come back to my senses.
“We shouldn’t be doing this, it’s wrong,” I said, but my voice sounded weak even to my own ears.
“Nothing about us is wrong,” he argued.
My mind and my heart were at war with each other. He belonged to someone else, but I had loved him first.
“Amo solo te,” he whispered.
I love only you.
With just those few small words, my resistance was shattered. I let him lead me to the bed, I let him strip me of my nightgown, I let myself love him, and I let him love me.
That night we’d created our own world where we were the only two people that existed, but the next day I watched from the shadows with blurry eyes as the man I loved pledged himself to another woman.
Chapter 8
Marsala, Sicily
July, 1976
Vincenzo
“We’re expanding our business,” my father announced.
I sat on the other side of the desk and waited for him to continue. Whatever he had up his sleeve was big; he’d kept me in the dark the last few weeks, and I knew it was so he could make some big proclamation—it was just the way he was. Everything had to be a production. He lived for the moment of the big reveal. His efforts were lost on me; I didn’t care for theatrics.
“I’m sending you to America,” he said simply. Out of everything I’d been expecting, that was not one of the options.
“America?”
“Yes. The west coast, to be more precise. You see, the east coast is dominated by the five families, then there’s The Chicago Outfit, but the west is virtually untouched. Establishing a presence in America will bring the DeLuca family to a new level.”
“Who runs the drug trade in the area now?” I asked.
“No one worth any salt. Just a lot of little guys. I’ve already talked it through with my contacts in New York and Chicago. Everyone’s on board, even the Vegas guys. They get a cut of the action in exchange for muscle until we get established.”
“When is this happening?” I asked, wondering just how long he’d been planning the move.
“The house I’m having built for you will be done next month; you’ll leave then.”
“You already had a house built? When did you start planning all this?”
“Yes, of course. I’ve been in talks since we got in bed with the Caputos. They took notice of our increased business and reached out.”
“Two years? And you didn’t think to bring it up until now?”
“Why should I? I’m still the head of this family until I die or decide you’re ready to sit on the throne. Don’t forget that, Vincenzo.” His hard eyes told me that I was treading on his patience.
“Yes, sir,” I complied, and stood to leave.
“You’ll also bring a small staff with you; I want you surrounded by people we trust. Don’t want outsiders coming in without being properly vetted.”
“Do you already have them picked out?” I asked. If he’d already chosen and Elena wasn’t on the list, I’d have to find another way to bring her with me. There was no way I was leaving her in Sicily while I took off to America.
“You’re a grown man, Vincenzo; you can pick your own staff,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said, turning to leave once again.
“You’d do well to keep a tighter lid on your affairs, son. You’ll have a family of your own one day, and you don’t need the added complication,” he said, almost as an afterthought.
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m not leaving without you,” I argued for what felt like the hundredth time as I paced the small cottage.
For the past two years, Elena and I had used the cottage as a new place to meet since the bench we’d used when we were younger was too exposed. It took me a year after the wedding to convince her to let me have her again. She’d insisted that it was wrong for us to be together since I was married, but I’d worn her down. She was mine, no matter what. She could try to fight it all she wanted, but we were meant to be together, even if the situation wasn’t ideal.
“I can’t just abandon my family,” she insisted.
“You’ll be compensated enough to send double what you give to your parents now. I assure you they’ll be fine.”
“What am I supposed to do? Move to America where I know no one but you and your wife?”
“Do you want to stay here and continue to work for my father?” I asked, knowing full well my father terrified her.
“No,” she admitted, her head in her hands.
“Come to America with me, start a new life.” I was playing on her dreams, and I knew it. She’d confided in me years ago about how much she wanted to move away from here and start fresh.
“It’s bad enough that I have to see you with her when I come here, but to actually live in the same house? Without any escape, I don’t know if I can survive that,” she whispered.
“This is our life, Elena. There’s nothing I can do about our circumstances except try to find a way around it so we can at least have some of the happiness we deserve. I’d rather have part of you than none. Please, I love you. Don’t you love me?”
“Of course, I love you; that’s never been in question. It’s just, you don’t know how it feels to see her, to see your ring on her finger. What if you had to watch me with another man, how would that make you feel?”
My body went rigid, and white hot jealousy raged through me. “What do you mean another man?” I demanded.
“Vincenzo!” she exclaimed, clearly frustrated. “You know there is no one else, but that’s exactly what I mean. What you felt just now at the thought of me with someone else, that’s how I feel when I see you with her, but it’s tenfold because it’s real.”
I sunk to my knees in front of where she was sitting on the bed and laid my head in her lap. We’d been arguing for over an hour, and we were both exhausted. “I’m sorry, I know I’m selfish for not letting you go, but I love you too much.”
She stroked the top of my head and sighed, “I love you, Vincenzo. You’re the only man I’ll ever love, and you know that. But this is a lot to ask of me.”
I lifted my head and stared up at her. “But would you rather never see me again? There’s a good chance that I won’t come back. Is that what you want?”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Never?” she asked, her voice thick with emot
ion.
“It’s a possibility,” I said, nodding, even though I knew it was a lie. I’d be back here and there—not often—but I’d still be back. Only, she didn’t need to know that at the moment. Not if it was going to convince her to come with me.
She closed her eyes and the tears that had been building fell. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll go.”
Chapter 9
Seattle, Washington
September, 1981
Elena
“I’m pregnant.”
Pregnant.
The word tumbled through my mind, bouncing off the sides of my skull, echoing in my ears. This couldn’t be happening. I wasn’t prepared, not yet. I knew it was probable, but I thought I’d have more time with Vincenzo before it happened.
I’m pregnant.
Luciana had thrown out the declaration as I was serving dinner as if it wasn’t a missile launched straight into my heart. I had frozen, plate in hand when I’d finally registered what she’d said.
“Finally!” Vincenzo had boomed. A smile split his face in two as my heart cracked straight down the middle. After I’d regained my composure, I’d placed the food and excused myself to the kitchen as quickly and politely as I could. But not before chancing a second glance at Vincenzo. He was nodding at whatever Luciana was saying, but his worried eyes tracked me as I made my exit.
I had known they would have children, it was expected, but at no point had I anticipated the agony it would cause when it finally happened. Bringing back the stark truth that Vincenzo wasn’t mine, he would have a family now, and I had nothing.
Bracing my hands on either side of the sink, I tried to hold my tears at bay—they would do no good. What was done was done, there was no turning back. Again I found myself at a crossroads with the man I loved and the expectations of everyone around us. So many of my life’s defining moments revolved around this man. A man with power and money and the charisma to get me to agree to just about anything.
