Chapter 5: Married With Malice: Chapter 4

Luca should be thankful we didn’t get to cut the cake. I don’t know how I would have resisted the temptation of smashing a piece in his face.

The reception came to an early end when I realized that Sabrina needed to go to the hospital. My father tried to take charge and pack her into a car to be sent to the nearest ER.

By this time she was in tears. Trusting one of my father’s ghoulish manservants to take care of her was not an option. For once my father wouldn’t get his way and I braced for war.

But things took an unexpected turn when Luca heard all the commotion and decided to step in.

“We’re ALL going to the hospital right now,” he announced. Without waiting for anyone to agree, he started issuing orders.

Luca has a lot of flaws but he sure gets things done. My father didn’t even get a chance to sputter an objection. Within two minutes we were barreling through the night with Luca’s friend Monte behind the wheel. Luca sat in the passenger seat while Daisy and I comforted a sobbing Sabrina in the back.

Nobody could stop me from following Sabrina when she was wheeled into the sterile guts of the hospital. I’d left my shoes somewhere on the floor of the country club ballroom but I wasn’t about to go back and look for them. A kind nurse handed me a pair of paper thin blue socks so I wouldn’t need to walk around barefoot.

Things can move a glacial pace inside a hospital, even if you’re chasing after the staff every five minutes to demand test results. My father has the power to pull some strings and get quick answers but two hours have now passed since we arrived and he’s nowhere to be found. For all I know, he stayed behind at the reception to drink and stuff his jowls with booze and cake. Meanwhile, we sit here waiting for someone with a medical badge to check in with an update.

My mother, always prone to angst, is particularly bent out of shape. Sabrina is her baby and Sabrina has given her plenty to fret over from the day she learned to walk.

“How is that, cara?” My mother places her hand on Sabrina’s forehead right after fluffing her pillows for the sixth time in ten minutes.

“I’m okay, Mama,” Sabrina says. “You can go sit in a chair. Over there.”

The pleading expression my sister throws my way indicates she needs a break from being smothered by our mother’s attention.

“I have an idea,” I say as I pull my mother away from Sabrina’s bedside. “Mama, why don’t we go find Sabrina some more ice chips?”

“I’d love some more ice chips,” Sabrina mumbles with her hand over her eyes.

My mother sticks out her lower lip and makes a very theatrical gesture. “That Big Man Bowie person can do it.”

‘That Big Man Bowie person’ is currently stretched out between two chairs and taking a nap with his head in Daisy’s lap.

Daisy pauses in the middle of stroking his hair. “You guys don’t need to keep calling him Big Man Bowie. You can just call him Bowie. He doesn’t mind.”

Big Man Bowie snores and flinches awake. “Are we there yet?”

“No,” I tell him. “Go back to sleep.”

His crooked grin always reminds me of a large sloppy dog. He flashes it and then snuggles more deeply into Daisy’s lap.

“Mama really needs some air,” I say. “You stay here in case a doctor shows up.”

Daisy nods. “Sure.” She resumes petting her husband.

“But…” My mother flails her arms one final time as I lovingly use some muscle to push her out the door of the tiny room.

The corridor is harshly lit and empty. Around the corner there’s a single nurse fretting over a tablet screen behind a long counter. Her head turns at the sound of our footsteps. She openly sighs, expecting another interrogation from me even though she didn’t have any answers the first five times I asked.

“Can you please point to the ice machine?” I ask.

“Take a left,” she says, relaxing a little. “Then another left. You’ll see it straight ahead.”

“Thanks.” My bare arms prickle with gooseflesh. There’s probably some scientific reason why a hospital needs to be kept at refrigerator temps. If I’d known this is where I’d end up tonight I would have added a cardigan to my wedding ensemble.

Meanwhile, now that my mother has been momentarily distracted from her youngest child’s medical emergency, she has time to remember that she has a daughter she’s not too pleased with.

“Your real dress was lovely,” she says with a disapproving sniff. “And where is your husband? Have you forgotten about him?”

Husband. Wish I could forget but no, I haven’t forgotten him. I’ve just sort of mentally set him aside for now.

“Luca wasn’t needed here. Richie Amato ordered him to return to the reception and deal with the guests.”

Her head bobs with approval. “He listens to his uncle. He’s a son to Richie and he’ll be a good Don someday.”

I don’t care if he’s the Don or a movie star or a god on Mount Olympus. I think of him calling me a heinous bitch earlier and my blood simmers.

Technically, I started it by calling him a lying prick but why split hairs?

We’ve found the ice machine. As I grab a paper cup and hold it under the dispenser, my mother is overcome by a fresh wave of anguish.

“I don’t understand. Annalisa, why would you do this to Luca?”

There’s not much about me that she does understand. She didn’t fight for me when my father pulled the plug on my skating dreams. I never expected her to fight for me now.

Still, she’s my mother. I’d never hurt her. It’s not her fault she was kept under lock and key by her fearsome father and then punted out the door into Albie Barone’s clutches before the age of twenty. She remains bewildered by her own children.

As for my infamous grandfather, he died in a yacht explosion when I was three. The current head of the family is my mother’s older brother, rumored to be even more brutal than the man he succeeded.

Maybe this is why I can never bring myself to judge my mother too harshly. She’s always been held under the thumbs of violent men, including the one she married.

“Luca really liked my dress,” I assure her. “He said so.”

Sort of true. I doubt Luca really has a witch kink.

“Hmph,” she replies with her face full of doubt.

My feet are as cold as my arms. These hospital socks aren’t very well insulated. I hadn’t packed a suitcase for the honeymoon because I planned to scheme my way out of the trip but I did leave a gym bag with extra clothes back at the church. I don’t even have my phone, although this feels like a small blessing. There’s not much appeal in being connected to the outside world right now.

Sabrina is sitting up in bed and some new company has arrived. A tall, thin man with a shock of white hair and a matching lab coat introduces himself as Dr. Harvey.

“I’m getting surgery,” Sabrina announces. “Goodbye, appendix.”

“Correct,” says Dr. Harvey with more good cheer than the moment deserves.

My mother unleashes a cry of distress and rushes to the bed to cradle Sabrina in her arms.

The room is officially overcrowded. Now that Big Man Bowie is awake, Daisy pulls him out into the hallway so we’re not all standing nose to nose.

“When is she having the surgery?” I ask. “How long will it take? When can she come home?”

Dr. Harvey clicks his pen and studies me with thoughtful eyes behind egg-shaped spectacles.

“You can talk to my sister,” Sabrina pipes up from the bed. “Anni is my lifetime appointed guardian.”

The doctor nods as if this makes perfect sense. “She’ll be prepped shortly now that an operating room is open. I’m confident there has been no rupture so the appendectomy will be laparoscopic and will only take about an hour. If all goes smoothly, your sister will likely be discharged tomorrow. She should be able to resume all normal activities within one to three weeks.”

“Are you the surgeon?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“How many of these surgeries have you performed?”

“Annalisa,” hisses my mother, who doesn’t believe in questioning authority figures.

Dr. Harvey, however, seems unbothered as he mulls the question over. “Well over a hundred.”

I spend a few seconds examining him. His lap coat is pristine. His hazel eyes are clear and alert with a crinkle of amusement in the corners.

“My first name is Carlton,” says Dr. Harvey. “Feel free to look up testimonials from my patients. Last I checked, there were three hundred and nineteen ratings with an average of four point nine out of five stars.”

“Five stars would be better,” I say.

The eye crinkles deepen and he fights a smile. “Yes, it would. But I promise that your sister is in good hands, Ms. Barone.”

“Nope,” Sabrina says. “She’s Mrs. Connelly now.” She laughs at her own joke and then winces when it hurts.

“That will teach you,” I grumble and switch my attention back to the doctor. “I plan to wait here until she’s out of surgery.”

He clicks a silver pen and pockets it. “If you turn right and walk down the main corridor you’ll see signs for the family waiting room. Once your sister is in recovery I will visit you personally with an update.”

Dr. Harvey seems all right. Otherwise, I would not have hesitated to demand a different surgeon. This will be Sabrina’s third surgery. When she was nine she needed to get her tonsils removed. At age thirteen she fell off a playground swing and fractured her arm badly enough to require pins. She’s also suffered two broken wrists and needed stitches on four separate occasions.

Funny how I can rattle off Sabrina’s medical issues more easily than my own. But my injuries came from skating stunts.

Mostly. Except for one.

Other than that, I’m rarely sick and I’ve never needed surgery.

Though Sabrina is in an upbeat mood as she’s wheeled away for her date with an operating room, my anxiety won’t fade until she’s been safely separated from her infected appendix. Telling myself it’s a very routine surgery doesn’t help much. In my mind, Sabrina is still the same trusting little girl who counted on her big sister to lead her safely across the street and it hurts to see her in pain.

My mother wants to visit the hospital chapel. Daisy offers to accompany her and tows Big Man Bowie along for the field trip.

Now on my own, I’m finding it tough to sit still in the hushed waiting room full of squishy chairs. AI-generated autumn scenes splash across the room’s mounted screens to the soundtrack of sleepy piano music. Plucking a random magazine from a pile, I thumb through glossy pages of celebrity hijinks and diet advice. The words run together on the page and I toss it back on the table.

A middle aged couple huddled side by side across the aisle look up at the noise. I suppose that in my shoeless, gothic state of dress, I don’t really fit into this environment.

They’re holding hands as they stare at me.

I stare back at them because I have nothing better to do.

And now I’m wondering who they are and what brings them here and how many years they’ve worn their identical gold wedding bands. They look comfortable, like they’re just weathering the latest challenge in a long, shared life, secure in the knowledge that whatever happens, at least they have each other.

The couple have resumed their quiet conversation by the time I decide I’ve had enough of sitting in this room. At the doorway, I take one last look at them. Her head is on his shoulder.

I’ll bet they are nice people. I hope they hear good news soon.

But now I get to deal with the opposite of ‘nice people’.

“There’s my lovely wife,” declares Luca as he saunters this way flanked by the Castelli brothers, Monte and Nico, like junior capos-in-waiting.

If they’ve come to abduct me to the bridal bedchamber, I plan to scream as I’ve never screamed before. The couple from the waiting room will hear. They’ll save me.

“Sabrina’s still in surgery and I’m not leaving.” I cross my arms, as if that will cement me in place. In truth, Luca could throw me over his shoulder with zero effort and there’s not a thing I could do about it.

Luca stops walking. He slides the strap of my Lululemon duffel bag from his shoulder and drops it at my feet. “I heard. Daisy asked me to bring you this.”

I snatch the bag off the floor and hug it to my chest. “Great. Your work is done.”

He takes note of my hospital socks and raises an amused eyebrow. “No thank you kiss? I’ve saved the day. It looks like your wedding heels are unsalvageable but now you have a pair of pink sneakers to wear.”

“What the hell did you do, take inventory of my bag?”

“Of course not,” he says. “I didn’t mean to touch your lacy black thong while I was packing up your stuff. It was entirely accidental and I refolded it nicely. You’ll see.”

He smiles.

I make a fervent, silent wish for every one of his teeth to fall out but nothing happens.

And I’m suddenly very tired. “Is my father with you?”

A dent of confusion appears between his brows. “No. I figured he was here.”

“He’s not.”

“Hey.” All the laughter disappears from his face and he reaches out to touch my arm. “I can go find him. What else do you need?”

I’m very unprepared for the feel of his warm hand on my skin. I flinch away from him. “I don’t need anything. Sabrina will be out of surgery soon and I’m not going anywhere so you ought to find another form of entertainment tonight.”

“Another form of entertainment,” Luca echoes. He looks to his friends. “What should we do, boys? Let’s get creative.”

Both Castelli brothers answer by snorting laughter through their idiot noses.

“Luca, I really don’t care what you do,” I say. “Go to a strip club in the city. Go dangle from the Verrazano Bridge. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Don’t you even want to know how the rest of the reception went? We have a huge stack of presents but I won’t open them without you. And I would have saved you a piece of wedding cake but you’re sweet enough as it is.” He reaches out and tweaks my nose before I can stop him.

The Castelli brothers are cracking up so much that they start bumping into each other.

Enough of this. The three of them should stay in the hallway and keep laughing until they suffocate.

But Luca’s not finished. “Wait, before you run off and sulk, I have something else for you.” He reaches into his back pocket and produces my phone. “I was really hoping you’d have some sexy selfies for me to look at.”

Choking on my own outrage, I grab for the phone. “You actually broke into my phone? And you still think I’m the deranged one?”

“Broke in? Not exactly. What a genius move, using your own birthday as a password. I punched it in on a whim.”

“I don’t have time for this.” I shove the phone in my bag and start walking in the opposite direction. “Thanks for the delivery. You’re free to go.”

“Annalisa.” He’s much faster than I am. I’ve hardly traveled three steps when he cuts me off.

And now he’s so very close, invoking the same startling feeling from earlier today when he briefly pulled me into his arms. I blame temporary insanity for the fact that I liked it.

Luca is too smart. If I take a step back right now, he’ll see through me.

Standing my ground, I lift my chin and stare up at him. “What do you want now?”

Luca runs his eyes over me, lingering on my breasts, before returning to my face. He makes sure I’m watching when he kisses two fingers on his left hand. Slowly, seductively, he presses them to my lips.

I’m hit with an internal jolt of electricity that threatens to buckle my knees.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers.

Then he winks and takes off with the Castelli brothers, leaving me to grapple with some very confusing and unwelcome sensations.

Shaking off the fleeting madness, I head for the restroom and happily exchange my nightmare dress for a pair of black yoga pants and a grey sweatshirt. It’s also nice to wear shoes again.

Luca lied about the thong. I hate thongs. The only underwear in the bag is a simple pair of black bikini panties. They are, however, carefully folded in a way that I don’t normally fold things. I can picture Luca with his paws all over them, screeching with laughter and probably showing them to his buddies. They get thrown in the trash can.

And now, because there haven’t been enough unpleasant shocks today, I run right into Rocco Vincente when exiting the restroom.

“Your father’s waiting outside,” he says. Decades of smoking, drinking and being a conduit for pure evil have turned his voice into gravelly sludge. A sour odor of whisky mingled with sweat flies right off him. “He wants a word with you. Now.”

The days when my father’s favorite henchman can freely bully me are over. Yet I can’t stop the flutter of fear in my heart whenever he tries.

“Tell my father we’re in the waiting room. Sabrina will be out of surgery soon.”

Rocco seizes my elbow when I try to sidestep him. A lick of cold terror slices through my senses. There’s no twisting away from him.

“He said right now,” There’s pure spite in Rocco’s dark eyes. Men like him, ugly in all ways, don’t change. “Don’t make this harder. Won’t be fun for you.”

All of a sudden, I desperately wish that I hadn’t sent Luca away. While I wouldn’t call Luca an ally, I’m positive he’d never stand by and watch me get kicked around.

“What are you going to do, rip my arm out of the socket?” Even as I say this, my heart beats faster. An old and terrible memory flashes. Yes, he might do just that.

Instead, Rocco starts to look bored. “You’re coming with me to talk to your father and that’s fucking final.”

I’m sure my glare isn’t at all intimidating but aside from a gym bag, it’s all I’ve got. “Sure, I’ll give him five minutes. But right now if you don’t get your grubby hands off me I’m going to scream loud enough to shatter the windows.”

Rocco rolls his eyes and releases my arm. On the trek through the hospital hallways, across the lobby and out the door, he walks exactly one step behind me to make sure I don’t run off.

My father waits in the backseat of the vintage Rolls Royce that carried me to my wedding. The car idles in an awkward spot just beyond the emergency entrance and is being guarded by two shadowy men. The backseat door is held open and I duck inside to sit beside my father.

The look on his face is simultaneously terrifying and giggle-worthy. It’s identical to the one he wore when he saw me in my wedding dress earlier. If I were to suddenly shrink to the size of a bug, I’m sure he’d enjoy squashing me under his shoe.

“Are you coming in to see Sabrina?” I ask. “She’ll be out of surgery any minute.”

He takes his time about speaking. It’s a tactic on his part. He thinks long pauses make his words carry more weight than they really do.

“Where is your husband, Annalisa?”

“I don’t know. Check the nearest sewer.”

He exhales noisily. “A man shouldn’t have to sleep alone on his wedding night.”

“He’ll live. And Luca is free to find other company if he’s lonely. Are we done now?”

My father’s grim, unblinking stare probably works much better on mafia underlings. “Your little rebellion is at an end.”

“You should work on your material, Daddy. That sounded so much more convincing when Darth Vader said it.”

The lighting is poor back here and half his face is hidden in the shadows but I’m sure he’s turning crimson with rage.

“Listen to me carefully. Because of your sister’s emergency, you’ll be allowed to remain here tonight. But tomorrow you are leaving on your honeymoon with your husband. The plane will be ready to depart at three. You will be on it. By the time you get back from your honeymoon, this attitude of yours will have gone through a miraculous adjustment and you’ll be ready to settle into married life. No more wasting your time with working. Your only job is to be a wife.”

“I said I’d marry him. And I did. I never agreed to more than that.”

He leans in and narrows his eyes. “Luca is your husband now. And you’re going to please him in all the ways a woman is supposed to please a man.”

Earlier, I assumed no parental conversation could possibly be more appalling than my mother’s bloody sheets lecture.

How wrong I was.

While my tongue still struggles to unlock the most succinct, profanity-riddled refusal imaginable, my father adds one more horrifying requirement.

“And I expect you to be a mother to Luca’s sons. My grandsons.” He pauses and his lip curls with disgust. “Believe me, you would have been my last choice to continue the family legacy, but the deal stands and you’re going to honor it.”

“Go to hell,” I blurt out without thinking. “I never signed up to be a breeding cow.”

He’s so tempted to hit me. I know he is. I see the way his fat fist curls and I hear when his breathing quickens.

The fact that I now have a husband who is expecting to see me tomorrow, a husband who would surely have questions if I’m delivered with a black eye, leaves me feeling weirdly grateful for Luca’s existence.

But I’m sure the feeling will pass.

The glass doors to the ER open and Daisy springs outside. She’s holding hands with Big Man Bowie. After a quick look around, she recognizes our father’s car and comes bounding over alone.

She’s smiling as my father lowers the window. “Sabrina’s awake. She’ll be wheeled to her room soon and then we can see her.”

“That’s great news,” my father says with his eyes on me.

Daisy notes the tension in the car and her smile drops. “Anni, are you coming?”

“In a minute,” I tell her. “I’ll meet you inside.”

She nods and retreats. My father leaves the window down and we both watch as Daisy rejoins her husband. Big Man Bowie lowers his head and deposits a sweet kiss on her lips. He puts a protective arm around my sister’s shoulders as they walk back into the building.

“Remember, Annalisa, I’m not the only one counting on you.”

My father’s meaning is clear. The minute I sabotage this phony marriage to Luca, he’ll make Daisy pay. Possibly Sabrina too.

All along I’ve been a fool to believe I’d find a way to escape with ease. The confines of the car feel oppressive, like there’s not enough air in here.

“I’ll be on that plane with Luca tomorrow. I promise. Right now I’m going to see my sister.”

Albie Barone, however, has no intention of visiting his youngest daughter. “Tell your mother a car will be sent around for her in an hour. I’ll be spending the night in the city.”

He makes a gesture to one of his men and the backseat door is flung open. I can’t get away from him fast enough.

Once I’m safely through the hospital doors, I turn around and see that the car is already gone. My hands are trembling and I sit down in a plastic lobby chair. I need a minute to calm down before facing my sisters.

Daisy knows nothing of the implied threats against her. Sabrina has no clue that I’ve also bargained for her future.

It’s no secret to my sisters that I’m far from delighted about this union with Luca Connelly. They believe my grudging cooperation comes from a sense of duty to the family. Despite the lonely feeling of bearing the weight alone, I’d never burden them with the hideous truth.

My phone dings with an incoming message. Digging through my gym bag, where I’d haphazardly thrown it earlier, I’m grossed out to see the text is from Luca. He sent a photo of himself in the middle of a busy bar. He’s wearing a hat that says JUST MARRIED in sparkly letters and the pic is captioned with X’s and O’s.

He just couldn’t resist ending the night without one more trolling shot.

With a hiss, I thumb away from the text. And immediately I’m greeted with another image of Luca. That fucker actually switched my screen wallpaper to a closeup of his stupid face.

A horrifying suspicion dawns on me. When I click on the InstaFace app, my fear is confirmed. Luca has changed my profile pic to a photo of us standing at the church altar. He’s leaning in for a kiss. My green wig is exceedingly vibrant. My face is tipped up in expectation.

Of course, that kiss never came. Luca bypassed my mouth and brushed my cheek with his lips. Then he said he could see my nipples.

Oh, and he didn’t just change my profile pic. He added a post. In all caps. Because of course he did.

JUST MARRIED THE LOVE OF MY LIFE. LUCA DAMIANO CONNELLY, I’M YOURS 4EVA!!!!

Every single social media app is the same. There are hundreds of comments and sincere messages of congratulations.

“Jackass,” I mutter and switch the phone off before returning it to the bottom of my bag. I have no wish to deal with this right now. My new wedding ring gets tossed somewhere in the bag as well.

At least my hands are no longer shaking.

No sooner do I realize this than Big Man Bowie strolls through a set of hospital double doors. He spots me sitting in the lobby and grins.

“Anni, there you are! Daisy said Sabrina’s asking for you.”

I jump to my feet and pick up my bag. “Let’s go.”

As for Luca, he’s getting shoved out of my mind for the rest of the night.

He’s tomorrow’s problem.