Chapter 30: Married With Malice: Chapter 29

By the time we reach my father’s house I’m done being a compliant captive. Mounting panic has turned me into a hellcat and I fight for all I’m worth as I’m dragged into the house.

In the process, my robe falls open and Sonny barks at the men to quit staring. With everyone distracted by my bare breasts, I take advantage and try to fight my way free.

“She bit me!” squeals one of Sonny’s men. “The crazy bitch actually bit my hand.”

“You’ll be fine,” growls Sonny, covering me and wrapping a meaty arm around my middle in an effort to stop all the thrashing.

“I’ll bite you next,” I promise even though it’s a fairly empty threat right now with my arms pinned and my legs flailing uselessly.

“Annalisa,” Sonny says with exasperation as he hauls me inside. “Stop this right now.”

“Fuck you. Where are my sisters? Where is my husband? Why the hell was I kidnapped from my own house in my bathrobe?”

“Your father will explain.”

My father is nowhere to be seen as I’m carried into the foyer and toward the stairs. But my mother, confused by all the noise, walks in and gawks at the sight of me fighting with Sonny in my bathrobe.

“What are you doing?” She has a feather duster in her hand and she smacks him in the arm with it. “Put her down.”

“Mama, where are the girls? Where’s Luca?”

The questions only cause her to become more bewildered. Whatever has happened, she’s obviously in the dark.

Sonny heaves an obnoxious sigh like all this drama is just a big, fat imposition on his time. “Sabrina is being picked up in the city right now. Daisy and that burger guy are at their apartment with two guards posted outside the door.”

“Where is Luca? WHERE IS HE? Give me a phone!”

“Give her a phone,” my mother says.

“I can’t. Albie says she can’t use the phone and she’s to be brought upstairs to her room.”

“Then I will take her.” My mother smacks him again with the feather duster. “You stay away.”

Sonny sets me down but he doesn’t exactly stay away. He remains exactly one step behind us as my mother walks me up the stairs with her arm around my waist.

The journey isn’t a comforting one. Each step reminds me of the time I was hauled up the steps to be battered by Rocco. The fact that Sonny is wheezing right at my back doesn’t help matters.

Sonny isn’t one of my favorite people at the moment but I believe him when he says Daisy and Sabrina are safe. It’s what he didn’t say, the question he refused to acknowledge, that drills sheer terror through my very core.

Where is Luca?

It’s possible that Sonny just doesn’t have any information on Luca’s whereabouts at all.

But then why wouldn’t he just say so?

Luca’s uncle is my father’s closest ally. I don’t pretend to comprehend all the intricacies of vengeance and blood codes bonded to the mafia world. But if my father is responding to a threat, then it would make sense to call Richie Amato for reinforcements.

Halfway up the stairs, I pause and look over my shoulder. Sonny’s face is impassive right now yet I didn’t imagine the flash of emotion he showed before he abducted me from my kitchen. He tried to make the whole kidnapping experience as painless as possible and beneath that was something else, something that keeps him from answering any questions about my husband.

“You feel sorry for me,” I say. “I can see it. Why?”

He stops walking and a cheek muscle twitches. He watched me grow up and has a daughter about my age. This is likely the reason he’s always had a soft spot for his boss’s children. He doesn’t enjoy carrying out this task.

“Go to your room, Annalisa,” he says, not without gentleness. “Your father will speak to you soon.”

I could try to run but then where would I go? I didn’t count how many men were milling around outside but there were more than a few and they probably all have orders to keep me contained.

There’s no way out using brute strength. Mostly because I don’t have any. My best hope is to remain calm and wait for an opportunity.

“Take your damn coat back.” I throw the thing in Sonny’s face, tie my robe belt and dash the rest of the way to my room with my mother scrambling to catch up.

Sonny closes the door the second we’re inside the rose and cream-colored bedroom where I spent most of my life. I can see his shadow standing watch just on the other side.

My mother’s eyes are wide and fearful. She twists the handle of the feather duster in her hands. “What has happened?”

“What has happened is that my father’s henchmen broke into my house, abducted me in my bathrobe and now I’m being held hostage while NONE OF THESE FUCKERS will tell me where my husband is.”

Furious tears cloud my vision. Breathing is painful and I sink down to the edge of the bed. My mother drops the feather duster and sits beside me.

“Mama,” I whisper. “I’m afraid.”

She holds me to her soft breast and clucks soothing noises while stroking my hair.

Not for the first time, the thought occurs to me that she’s not without leverage. She’s Giulia Messina, born in the cradle of the original mafia, the only daughter of Salvatore Messina, one of the most formidable dons who ever lived. Her brother Vittorio runs the family now. My uncle’s reputation is so chilling that even my father pales whenever his name is mentioned.

I’ve only met my uncle twice and the second time I was a young teenager. My impression of Vittorio was that he had no interest in speaking to children and he strongly disliked the husband of his younger sister.

My mother says nothing as she continues to tenderly stroke my hair. She’s never defied my father before. She won’t start now.

There’s no clock in here and I’m unsure how much time passes before I hear my father’s gruff voice on the other side. He murmurs to Sonny.

Then he laughs. HE LAUGHS!

I’m sitting here in petrified agony while he’s out there laughing like he’s watching a fucking sitcom. I jump to my feet, tempted to take a swing at his mostly bald head the second it pokes through the door.

My mother, sensing my mood, puts her arm around me. “Don’t talk back. You know how he is.”

Yes, I know how he is. And I’m no longer a child who is trapped under his thumb.

Albie Barone walks into the room and takes stock of his wife and daughter standing in the middle of the room. He casually unwraps a roll of antacid tablets and pops two into his mouth. I suppose hoping that he chokes to death on them is asking for too much.

“Why am I here? Where is Luca? Are Daisy and Sabrina really safe?”

He crunches the chalky tablets and takes his time about answering. “Of course your sisters are safe.”

“What am I doing here, Daddy? Why can’t I call my husband?” The crack in my voice is unfortunate. My father treats all female emotion with a high level of contempt.

“Giulia,” he says to my mother, “you’ll need to leave now so I can speak to Annalisa alone.”

“Fuck that,” I mutter and charge right into him, grabbing fistfuls of his blazer and successfully barreling him backwards into the wall. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

A brief flash of surprise registers in his face. He’s so used to bullying everyone around him that he’s stunned to be pushed back.

The surprise fades with seconds. Despite the fact that he’s old and he’s slow, I’m no physical match for him and he knows it.

His hands clamp around my upper arms and he gives me a brutal shove. Stumbling backwards, I collide with the corner of my old desk. The sharp pain in my hip is enough to drop me to my knees.

My father straightens his suit jacket, scans me with a look of scorn, and takes a harsher tone with my mother. “Giulia, do as I say. I need to speak to our daughter alone.”

“No,” my mother says. She stands in front of me and crosses her arms.

With that single syllable, the room falls ominously silent. I’d just climbed to my feet while trying to assess the damage to my throbbing hip. Now I grip the back of the desk chair and stare at my mother in astonishment.

“She is not safe with you,” my mother says. “I’m going nowhere.”

Her mutiny, though admirable, is short lived. My father stares at his wife with a dangerously inscrutable expression. Then he takes a few casual steps in her direction and backhands her across the mouth.

My gasp of horror is born of true shock.

It’s true that my father is not a good husband. Emotionally abusive and neglectful, he doesn’t treat my mother with the love and respect she deserves.

Yet I’ve never seen him raise a hand to her before.

She straightens up. Blood trickles from her split lower lip. Her eyes fill with hatred. But there’s no surprise, only weariness.

He’s done this to her before.

I’m shocked, but she isn’t.

“Bastardo.” She spits her blood at him.

With renewed alarm, I watch his eyes go flat with rage. His fist curls up.

“NO!” I dart in between them. If this coward needs to hit another woman then let him dare to hit me. “Don’t hurt her! Mama, it’s okay. Please go.”

She puts a hand to her mouth and looks at the fingers that come away covered with blood. Her eyes focus on me and well up with tears. She wears her emotions as plainly as if she has spoken them; her shame and her sorrow and her regret.

And her love.

Yes, a deep, enduring love for the strange and willful daughter she couldn’t protect and never understood. But the love is there just the same.

“For me, Mama.” I take her hands in mine and kiss her knuckles gently. “Please.”

She breaks down and runs from the room. The sound of her sobs carries from the hallway.

“Brainless bitch,” my father mutters with a shake of his head.

I straighten up and ask the only question that matters. “Where is my husband?”

His jaw flexes and he looks me over with the same energy that one might use when appraising a car. “Are you pregnant?”

The strangeness of his question only amplifies my fear. “No, I’m not pregnant.”

He grunts with a nod of approval. “For once your disobedience has worked in your favor, Annalisa.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“If you’d been pregnant you wouldn’t have been allowed to remain in that condition. I won’t have any of their kind around here.”

He says this so casually that my mouth goes dry and my heart hammers in my chest. The walls of my throat constrict with fright.

My father takes no notice of my terror. Or maybe he enjoys it when he says, “They killed your uncle. Richie Amato and the rest of his cursed family.”

I shake my head and wonder if I’m going insane or he is. “Uncle Bill died in a cartel hit. Richie Amato helped you take out those responsible. I don’t know everything but I know that much.”

“A lie, all of it. He set up the hit. He killed my brother. Then he pretended to seek an alliance, swearing that my enemies are his. In return I gave him loyalty and friendship. I even gave him a daughter. Now I take it all back. All deals between our family and the Amatos are finished. And so are they.”

“Luca had nothing to do with any of this! He wasn’t even working for Richie at the time. He was in law school. He didn’t know anything!”

“His uncle made him the family successor. He shares their fate.”

“WHERE IS MY HUSBAND?”

“Dead.”

The word carries all the cruel, indifferent power of a bullet.

I can’t even absorb its meaning.

My eyes see nothing except memories of Luca’s smile and my ears hear nothing but the echo of his voice.

“You’re my heart, Annalisa.”

“Marry me, Anni. Right here and now.”

“Miss me while I’m gone…”

A scream of unutterable grief rips out of my throat and I run to my father, prepared to claw his face off. “YOU’RE A LIAR! YOU’RE A FUCKING LIAR!”

This time he’s ready for me. He fends off my swinging arms with a blow that connects with my right cheekbone and comes with a constellation of pain. I’m struggling to stay upright but a punch to my stomach drops me to the floor and I have nothing left. No weapon, no strength, nothing but indescribable anguish.

My father leaves me there. The door opens and shuts. I hear him order Sonny to make sure I stay put in the bedroom.

There’s so much pain in multiple places on my body. The skin around my right eye is already swelling shut and the wind was knocked out of me with the punch to the gut. But it’s all nothing compared to the heartache that promises to drown me.

Curling on my side on the cold floor, I draw my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them, willing a miracle to happen.

There was another time when I was nearly this desperate, when I summoned him with a fervent wish and spoke his name like a prayer.

And then he appeared. Against all odds, there he was in the middle of a blizzard.

All I wanted then was him.

All I want now is him.

“Luca,” I whisper. “Come back to me.”

But minute after minute just keeps passing by and I’m still all alone.