Bloodline // Mafia Romance

IV

I wake up to bustling noises. Rubbing my eyes, when I open them, there are about ten women in my room, each carrying various fabrics.

"Oh my God!" I yell, sitting bolt upright in bed. The women don't even seem fazed.

"Ah, Signorina Aria, you're awake. Up now, there's no time to waste."

An older lady ushers me to in front of the mirror. Instantly, coloured silks and laces are held up to my skin and hair, whilst every inch of my body is being measured.

"She's skinny," the lady says, a tinge of irritation in her voice, "but she's got a good curve to her silhouette. I want her waist highlighted. We'll have to do something about those breasts, though."

A younger girl nods eagerly and starts scribbling notes.

Suddenly, a male voice comes out of nowhere. "Isn't this a sight?"

Rocco stands at my door, laughing to himself. It takes everything in me to restrain my eye roll.

He mutters something in Italian, and the older lady sighs with annoyance before barking out an order. The rest of the women retreat from me and go back to analysing fabrics and threads.

"How's the mafia princess doing?" He smirks.

"Waiting for the chance to brush her teeth," I mutter.

He chuckles. "Dannazione (damn), Kingston. I didn't realise you bite."

"Is there something you want? Based on our introduction, you're clearly not here to chat."

He grabs a cigarette from his inner jacket pocket and lights it. "My... frustration yesterday wasn't directed at you. I think this whole 'arranged marriage' thing is bullshit."

"Are you going to tell me you're a romantic, now?"

"Hardly," he snorts. "Still bullshit, though. Unless you care to disagree? How was that lovers chat of yours last night?"

"I think your Don has little patience for women with opinions of their own."

"Only if they go against his."

"They all do."

"What fun this will be, then. For me, at least," he smirks, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Glad to be of service," I joke humourlessly.

"Oh, don't look so glum. I thought this..." he gestures to the women who have returned to treating my body like a doll, "was every little girl's dream."

"Feel free to take my place."

"I would look dashing in a dress, wouldn't I?"

I can't help but smile at the thought of him prancing around in a ballgown. "I'm sure your enemies would be running in fear at the sight."

Placing his cigarette between his teeth, he grabs one of the fabrics and wraps it around himself. "How do I look?"

"Dashing, indeed."

"Knew it," he chuckles.

The older lady snatches the fabric off of him and shoots a look. He raises his hands up innocently, but his mischievous grin remains.

"So, is there something you need? Or do you just wish to torment me?" I joke.

"I've been assigned as your personal protector."

"The hundred soldiers walking around the estate isn't enough?"

Rocco chuckles. "You really have no idea how important you are, do you? How powerful your are."

"I'm the dove, I know."

"The dove?" He leans against the wall, taking another drag. Amusement is drawn across his face.

"I'm peace between the Italian and English mafias. I was taken here practically choking on an olive branch."

"Oh, you are so much more than that, Kingston. You are about to combine two of the strongest mafias in existence. Everyone in the world knows your name. You have the ability to build nations - or to watch them burn."

"And what if I don't want that?"

"Then you are far better than me, little dove."

I walk over to the cafetiere and pour myself a coffee into the crystal mug. "Everyone knows my name - that sounds like a lot of enemies."

"I'm good with a gun," Rocco smirks. 

I turn to him, an eyebrow raised. "How do I know you're not my enemy?"

His smile only grows. "I guess you'll find out."

With the sound of someone clearing their throat, Rocco and I turn to the door. It's Will.

"Aria, I thought we should discuss the upcoming formal events for your engagement."

"And that is my cue to leave," Rocco replies.

"Not much of a personal protector," I joke.

"Unfortunately, I have a date with a Russian spy and a hot, iron poker. Personal protector business. I'll be back, little dove."

He walks out, humming a jolly tune.

I, however, feel drained of any humour.

"There's already been an attempt to get to me?"

Will says a command in Italian, causing the women to start bustling out the door with their various bits and pieces.

The older lady takes one last look at me. "So pale," she huffs, before closing the door behind her.

He looks to the ground. "He shouldn't have said anything. The spy didn't get past the perimeter." He walks toward me. Instinctively, I take a step back. "You're safe, Aria. No one will get near you. No one will hurt you."

I nod, trying to convince myself of his words.

"Tell me about these events. I don't want to think of this anymore."

"You have your engagement ball tomorrow evening. Christian will be presenting you as his bride. Everyone who matters will be there."

"Including my father?"

"Yes, Edward Kingston will be in attendance."

I pick up the coffee, hoping a sip will calm my nerves. But, as I look into the mug, the liquid shakes with my hands. I bring it to my mouth. The warm, vanilla coffee comforts me as much as it can. However, my body still feels cold as ice at the thought of reuniting with Father.

"Once the engagement ceremony is over, we'll return to Italy by the end of the week. Do you have anyone you wish to say goodbye to before we leave?"

I walk over to the balcony, watching the outside world. Only Mother enters my mind. But, which am I to ask forgiveness for: what I am, or what I'm not? Which should I regret: what I became, or what I didn't?

I turn to Will. "No. There's no one."

He nods, solemnly. "It doesn't have to be that way, anymore."

"I'm starting to see that," I smile, softly.

Will is kind. Kinder than anyone I've ever known. And, Rocco - he managed to make me laugh. I can't remember the last time I truly laughed.

Vitale may be cold, but finally, my heart feels warm.