Sold to Mr. Giordano

Arielle

Antonio with his connections got the best seamstress to make me a dress that fits my ‘new measurements.’ The dress, at my husband’s request, is light blue and matches my eyes perfectly. Wearing the beautiful dress I thought would make me feel beautiful but it had the opposite effect.

My hair was done in thick loose curls and I had put minimal makeup on—just some mascara, eyeliner, and nude-toned lipstick. Although my hair seemed to work in my favor tonight and is silky soft. And although my face is clear of blemishes and looked nice with the natural look of makeup I went with I still feel horrible.

I feel bloated and disgusting. I knew I shouldn’t have ate all the junk or sat on the couch for days on end without giving myself an ounce of exercise. I make a promise to myself that I’ll have Carmelo take me to the gym frequently. Maybe it’s what I need to feel better and get myself out the depression funk I seem to be sinking deeper into.

Arabella’s family’s home is magnificent. It isn’t in the city but just right outside. It is a large plot of land that the mansion rests right in the middle of. The inside was of marble and granite and the walls covered in expensive paintings by famous artists and vases crafted in European countries and exported here.

Being here also rung the question of, why doesn’t Arabella live in the house anymore?

Of course she married Vinny and moved out, but why didn’t she move back in. Not that I’m complaining about her presence in my penthouse, but I wonder why she lives with her cousin.

My arm is locked with Antonio’s as we are greeted by various differently families and names of people I can’t and probably won’t remember after this is over. Something inside me blooms with satisfaction of being so close to Antonio, but my heart sinks because I know this is just for show. He holds me like a trophy and heads warning that if his trophy—his property—are touched, then you will be thrown to the wolves.

We all socialize in the living room and foyer as the mansion fills with all kinds of members from the Famiglia. I spot Angelo talking to Luca, as always they are arguing about something. Angelo looks distressed as Luca keeps a calm and cool composure shrugging at whatever Angelo said.

My eyes scatter across the room trying to find Arabella. It takes me a while because she seems to have wedged herself in the corner and has blended in to avoid attention. Tears are streaming down her face and I realize that this morning and right now have been one of maybe the only times I’ve seen her so scared and distressed. She was upset when Antonio and Rocco announced she was going to be married to him, but not to this extent. The fearsome aura radiating off of her is so strong that it makes even myself sick with nausea. She’s always put on a strong front for me and before my marriage to Antonio when I was scared she was always there to comfort me.

I wish I could comfort her, while Antonio is a cruel man, he is also a man who is considerate toward me and may have buried feelings. Luca will not be considerate to a wife, he will take what he pleases like a toy he desires and will break it in no time and only after it is broken will he throw it away. He will enjoy breaking whatever sanity that remains in Arabella after he has thoroughly destroyed her. I’ve seen it before, I’ve seen it in my mother after my father countless beat her both physically and mentally.

I wish I could comfort her but I know my brother and there’s no escape from his claws.

 My second glass of champagne leaves me feeling ill. After thinking of Luca and how he’ll treat Arabella it leaves a sour taste I cannot get out of my mouth. My stomach churns with disgust and guilt that I can’t do more for my friend. I excuse myself from Antonio and one of his uncles we are talking to, to find a bathroom.

I find one next to the kitchen. It’s quaint, but still bigger than a normal person would have in their house. There’s no shower or tub, but only a toilet and double sink. I crouch down over the bowl and spew the remnants of what I had for lunch earlier along with my champagne.

After my stomach settles and I freshen myself up a bit by pressing cold water to my cheeks and neck, I walk out of the bathroom and head back to the party. Someone grabs my wrists and yanks me back into them. I yelp, but don’t scream when I see my captor. Antonio.

“Where have you been?”

“In the bathroom.”

“You missed the announcement,” he grumbles.

 I frown. “I’m sorry. I’m not feeling too well.”

He analyzes me. “You are looking pale. Maybe I should take you home. Or to a doctor.”

“I don’t need a doctor. It’s just… revulsion,” I curl my lip in disgust. “It’s not fair that she has to marry him.”

“It is what it is. Arabella knows her place and understands that this is benefitting the Famiglia. She’ll get over it.”

I clench my fist. “Get over it? You think she’ll get over being abused for years?! He won’t stop, he’ll treat her crap until the day he dies or worse until the day he kills her.”

Antonio’s expression goes dark and unreadable. I can tell he’s mad by his pursed lips, but the look in his eyes, I don’t know. I don’t want to know. “Come on, I’ll take you home. You aren’t feeling well.”

He explains to the guest that we have to leave, a few of them—mainly his uncles—think me being sick is codeword for we’re leaving so we can have sex. That is the very polar opposite of what is going to happen tonight. That thought alone makes me sigh.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have left,” I think of Arabella. “She didn’t seem comfortable at the party and was avoiding everyone.”

“So what. Lots of people try to avoid social gatherings. I know I would if I could,” he shrugs.Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

“It’s not that, she loves parties and talking to people. Arabella is so bubbly and full of life and he… he sucks it out of her like a leech.”

Antonio doesn’t say anything after that and I wonder if it’s because secretly he agrees with me—that Arabella and Luca should not be married. Antonio as Capo can’t put his feelings before business though. Even if he felt an ounce of uncertainty about the marriage he wouldn’t call it off because the Famiglia comes first and the marriage is a business deal—a benefit.