My Tragic Mafia Life | ✔️

62

Josephine didn't think Viola was this naive. "Speaking of Dante, what's going on between you two? It's not like I wanted to come in your place."

Viola said gravely. "I know. Dante and I haven't been the greatest ever since I broke up with him."

"Oh my god, you broke up with him?" Josephine's laughter was golden. "I wish I was there to see it. Wait—did he take it well?"

Viola winced. "Not really."

"He seems like the type to throw a fit."

"He did."

Josephine's laughter came once again. "Oh, I'm sorry. That must have been horrible."

Viola looked down at their interlaced arms but doing nothing to unravel them. She shyly met Josephine's gaze. "How did, um, you two even meet?"

Going over the pathetic story was not on her list of nightly affairs. "Listen, Viola, I got into some hot water with your fiance right over there"—she gestured to the spot Dante was currently sitting at—"so I was forced to come. Don't worry. If everything works out, you won't ever have to see me again and your marriage with Dante won't include any mistresses."

Viola said, "That's not what I'm worried about."

"You're not?" Did these future wives find infidelity normal? They weren't living in the past.

With her free hand, she picked at the end of her dress, eyes wavering. "Me and Dante already agreed to try to make this engagement as natural as possible. It's weird to know that the same person you knew when you were in kindergarten is the same person you're going to marry someday. Thankfully, Dante felt the same and we've been trying to figure things out as normally as we can."

Josephine dared asked, "And how is it going?"

Viola sulked. "Not good."

She invited Josephine to join her own party where they sat a few meters from the royals. They were close enough to be seen as followers of Cordelia's crowd, but far enough to not listen closely or become the talk of the night. Perfect.

Josephine sat, her luxurious gown spreading around the sides of the chair. Viola took her own spot, her face looking more like a golden feather as she relaxed in her seat. Thousands of candles had been lit in place of moonlight, even the chandeliers overhead swayed in black glass, no reflection seen. Josephine surveyed the guests, so overdrawn in their own pleasures that she forgot where all of this was born. On the backs of illegal crimes.

A waiter came and offered them wine. Only Josephine declined. She was searching for a familiar sight of green hair or a prudish scowl but found nothing. Even with Houston's hulking size, he had disappeared as well.

Though a glass of wine sat on her side, Viola did not take a sip. "A lot of people thought you two were together. That's also what I thought. He doesn't really get along with other girls."

"Well, we're not," Josephine said, rattled by that conclusion. This wasn't anything she wanted to happen. She wanted to leech off of him, but not like how a moth was drawn to a flame. If anything, she would only end up burned. "Is it okay for me to ask why both of you broke up?"

Viola's laugh was shaky. "It was right after Hugo died. Dante went on—sort of on a dark path, if you know what I mean. I guess finding out your brother was killed really messes you up. He changed and it wasn't in a good way. And I, I know it sounds horrible, but I couldn't handle it." Josephine held her tongue because Viola looked as if her blood was pounding. "I know he was going through grief but it just became too much for me." Viola's skin began to pale. "I didn't know what to do to fix him and I couldn't fix him. The dona kept pushing for me to help, but I..."