Chapter 2

• My wedding was far cry from the vision I held in my mind since I was a little girl. I had always envisioned myself getting married to the love of my life at the beach, surrounded by our family and friends in beautiful floral dresses and floral shirts. But there I was, engulfed in a sea of unfamiliar faces, marrying a man I despised more than anyone in the world, in a vineyard on his estate. I had no doubt that our wedding guest list consisted of members of The Bandoni Crime Family, or La Famiglia Bandoni as they fancied to call it, corrupt government officials and their business associates. None of these people cared about the couple getting married; they were there for business.
• Different people approached us, congratulating us. All these congratulations messages should have been directed solely at Salvatore. He was the one who had finally gotten what he wanted. And as for me, they should have been offering me their condolences since I might as well have just signed my own death notice. My eyes were stinging with unshed tears, and my gaze stayed fixed on the marble floor for the most part, avoiding any eye contact unless required. But even though I was not looking at anything, I could feel eyes on me and with each second passing, the feeling was getting more and more intense. I raised my head and looked around the room. It took few seconds for my eyes to meet the darkest shade of green eyes staring at me from across the room. The young man stood by the bar, staring right straight at me and his gaze did not move even though he had noticed I had caught him staring. He looked different from all the men in the room. For one, he did not scream danger and power. He looked... normal. With his long jet black hair, tied up, he looked more like he belonged in a band, not with the bunch of corrupt men surrounded us. I wondered who he was.
• “Salvatore,” a gruff voice, jolted me back and I looked in front me.
• A short man with a potty belly stood in front of me and he had to be the most disheveled person in the room.
• “Giuseppe,” Salvatore said back, shaking hands with his right hand while the other one remained wrapped around my waist.
• "Congratulations; your choice is remarkable,” Giuseppe said, and I could feel his eyes on me, making my skin crawl.
• “You are a hard man to please, Giuseppe, but I am happy you appreciate my wife's beauty,” Salvatore said, his voice dripping with unlaced pride.
• “Mrs. Conti,” Giuseppe said, offering his hands to me, and I hesitated to stretch out my hand to him.
• Salvatore’s grip tightened around my midriff in warning, urging me to stretch out my hand to take Giuseppe's. Giuseppe's large, sweaty palm engulfed mine, sending a wave of repulsion through me.
• He raised my hand and kissed the back of my palm, and all I wanted to do was snatch my hand away and run across the room to tuck myself as far away as possible. But I stood there, my heart thudding hard enough to break my ribcage.
• “Congratulations on your wedding,” Giuseppe said.
• “Thank you,” I answered, hoping that his attention would shift back to Salvatore.
• “You sure are a beauty,” he continued, his attention still on me, his palm still covering mine.
• “Thank you,” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper..
• “Too bad Salvatore saw you first,” he added and I flinched, tugging my hand, trying to let my hand slide from Giuseppe's. I glanced at Salvatore, hoping that he would help me. Made men were supposed to be possessive, right? But there was no help coming from him. Instead, his fingers dug midriff and he busted with his laughter.
• “The early bird always gets the worm, Giuseppe," Salvatore responded, "But we can always talk business,”
• My eyes flew open and I turned to look at Salvatore. Was he doing what I thought he was? Offering me to another man on our wedding day?
• Giuseppe's own laugh filled my ears, drawing my attention to him.
• “Expect my call, Conti,” he said, a grin on his face and his eyes lingering on me.
• “I will be,” Salvatore answered before Giuseppe finally let go of my hand and walked away. I would have sighed with relief if my mind was not now occupied with the idea of my husband pimping me out to him.
• I had heard stories of these made men taking their wives against their will. It was no secret that these made men did not take a no for an answer especially from their wives and I had been bracing myself for that with little to no success. And now there was a probability of other men being thrown into the mix? I felt my inside turning. The music and the conversations in the room started to get distant and everything in front of me started to blur.
• What the hell had I gotten myself into? Was I going to survive this? Or I was better off in a cemetery somewhere or maybe drowning in the Hudson River.
• “Amelia,” someone growled in my ear as I felt a tug on my body.
• “Huh,” I startled looking up to see Salvatore hard gray eyes glaring at.
• “The boss is greeting you,” he said and I looked up.
• In front of us, stood a man, probably in his sixties, his face hard and his eyes cold.I stared at him for a moment, my mind still stuck in a trance. Salvatore’s fingers dug into my midriff again and I almost jumped out of his hold. I fumbled and finally offered my hand to “The Boss” as Salvatore addressed.
• “Congratulations,” The Boss said, his voice tight and his hold strong on my hands.
• I only nodded, refusing to say a word since I could not trust my voice.
• “Pardon, my wife, she has not been resting well since the wedding planning started,” Salvatore said.
• “I understand, planning a wedding can be a bit hectic. Maybe you should take her out for a while so that she can get some fresh air,” The Boss suggested, his voice still tight and void, not fooling me that he was any better.
• “I will,” Salvatore said.
• The Boss walked away, and Salvatore's hold tightened around me as he led me out of the room. We rounded a corner, and we were out of sight when he released me and pinned me on the walls instead.
• “Now, listen Amelia,” he whispered harshly, “Your job as my wife, is to act pretty and smile at whoever you need to smile at. Not acting like a haunted zombie like you are doing. Do you understand?”
• “But…,” I started to argue but he shut me down immediately.
• “There are no buts, Amelia. You are my property, Amelia and you do exactly what I tell you to do. I don't have to remind you what is at stake here, do I?”
• I shook my head no.
• “Good. Now wipe off that zombie look and plaster a smile in that face and act like a happy bride that you should be,”
• I nodded, not saying a word.
• “Now look at me,” he ordered and I schooled my features, trying my best not to let what I was feeling inside show on my face.
• “Better,” he said and took my hand, dragging me back to the ballroom. I followed him, hoping and praying that I did not have to put up with this charade of acting happy bride for a long time.
• Just as we walked back in, the lights flickered, I looked up wondering what was going on. I wondered if God had answered my prayers and was cutting this facade short.
• The lights went off and an explosion followed. I screamed going down and closing my ears with my hands. I heard guns being drawn out and men shouting orders.
• I heard the first gunshot and I screamed as several other gunshots followed.
• I had hoped for an end to the night but a shoot out was not on my list of choices on how I would have preferred the night to end. But then life had not been giving me any choices for a long time and I had to deal with whatever it gave me.
• I needed to find my brother and leave. I knew he was somewhere in the Salvatore Mansion, and it would take me a while to find him, but everybody was distracted and would not care about me. Salvatore certainly didn't care. Because when I looked up, he was nowhere near my sight; no one was. This chaos needed to go on for a while to buy me more time and give me an opportunity to run.
• I looked around, trying my best to locate the closest exit in the darkness. I found one and was about to dash towards it when I felt my hair being pulled. I screamed with pain as hold my head and getting up to my feet. The person pulling on my hair pushed me and I stumbled into someone else's hold.
• “Take her out of here,” Salvatore ordered.
• He had been the one pulling on my hair and the man he was ordering, was the green eyed guy who had been staring at me since this wedding started.
• He was not built up like most men in the mafia. He was lean but he was surely strong. The moment tried to kick out of his hold, he scooped me up like I weighed nothing and put me over his shoulder. I was kicking and shouting but he was not letting go until we were outside. He opened the door to his car and placed me inside, shutting the door right in my face, he went to the driver's seat and drove off the estate.