Married to the mafia boss Series

Arabella

A fucking corset. What is this, the sixteenth century?From NôvelDrama.Org.

The ladies that are hired to get me ready are now lacing up my corset so tight I can hardly breathe. I gasp for air and begin to feel bile rise up my throat. I swallow it and fan myself for some cool air before they jerk me back by pulling the strings. I hold onto the headboard at the end of the bed to keep myself in place as they do their job. I really can’t blame them.

Although the corset makes my waist super tiny, I’d much rather choose oxygen over looking skinny. At this rate I am going to faint before I can completely walk down the aisle. My entire body begins to feel agitated and I’m regretting everything. The large curlers in my hair are tight and are starting to hurt and itch my scalp. The tears burning my eyes are threatening to ruin my freshly done makeup.

One of the ladies fans my face and whispers in a mother-like tone, “No crying, bambina. It will be over before you know it.”

I don’t want it to be over. I want time to slow down so I can think. God, I can’t think straight in this corset. Can’t think straight with these stupid curlers pinching my scalp.

I sit at the vanity; my posture has never been so straight in this thing but I want nothing more than to slump. I want to curl up into a tiny ball and make myself invisible. The mirror shows a beautiful girl, the makeup makes my eyes look wide and innocent. Whatever cover-up and bronzer they used makes my face look full of color and look as smooth as newborn baby’s skin.

It’s hard not to reflect on the two weddings I had in the past. It’s hard not to notice that before every single one of my weddings, just hours before I walked down the aisle, I was nearly in tears and bursting with severe unhappiness. A girl’s wedding is supposed to be the happiest day of her life. This is my third and all three have been some of the worst days of my life.

The ladies congregate at my hair and pick apart the curlers letting my hair fall in loose, thick, shiny waves. The headpiece is a gold-colored metal piece, that looks like almost like branches or antler, fits around the crown of my head like a headband making it the perfect finishing touch.

They all gush at how gorgeous I look. I look over at the clock and my breath hitches in my throat when I see I have just thirty minutes left. Thirty minutes until I’m hoisted out of my room and thrown in the back of the car. From there I will head to the church to marry the most despicable man in all of Italy.

I’m helped into my dress which fits me perfectly. I don’t know how he got my measurements, but the designer did a wonderful job to make it fit like a glove. The dress is white unlike my last one. Luca insisted I wear an off-white, considering only virgins wear white on their wedding day. I am glad not to be humiliated like that now.

I have to admit the dress isn’t terrible. It’s similar in taste I have. If I went shopping I might’ve picked out the same exact dress if I had seen it on the rack. It is a slim fitting dress with a sweetheart neckline. The material is of silk and is covered by a lace design. The skirt of the dress poofs out at my hips and reaches an inch off the floor. At my waist is also a thin gold belt which matches the antler-branch like design on my head.

Lastly, they help me into the shoes which are of a simple design. They are white and shiny with a pointed toe and a three-inch heel. One of the ladies hands me earrings to put in my ears and without so much as a goodbye or congratulations, they leave.

I sit alone in my room, for the very last time, as I put the golden dangly earring in the first hole of my ears. I take deep breaths. Here I thought being alone would help me concentrate better, but I don’t want to be alone anymore.

I’m scared, terrified, and I don’t want to live my life in fear. As much as my mother pisses me off majority of the time, I wish she was here. She would push me to get out there, she would tell me everything would be okay. She would help me not to think because all I’m doing right now is thinking.

I’m overthinking and the more my mind races with infinite possibilities and scenarios, the colder my feet are getting. Oh Gods, what am I doing? Can I really endure another man to ruin my life?

Leonardo. Vincenzo. Luca. Now Gaetano?

Can I really add another name to my list?

Okay, I can do this. I am a survivor. I can do this. I can do this. I can do-

The door opens and creeping in is Carmelo wearing a dapper suit. He shuts the door quickly and frowns. “I don’t have much time but-”

I close my eyes and interrupt him. “I can’t do this.”

“Arabella…” he sighs and grabs both of my hands.

“No,” I shake my head. “I-I can’t go through this again. Maybe I’m selfish, maybe I’ll get people I loved killed-but I can’t go through with this.”

“Are you sure?” He searches my face for any signs of hesitation.

“I’m sure but…” I trail off, “I can’t ask you to run away with me. If Gaetano doesn’t kill you my brother might or my father or even Antonio.”

He presses a hard kiss against my lips smudging my red lipstick. “I don’t care. A life with you is worth it and even if you don’t want a life with me… I’d gladly risk my life if it means I’ve saved you from a horrible fate with Gaetano.”

“Of course I want a life with you,” I wipe lipstick off his lips with my thumb. “We don’t have much time. How are we going to do it? Won’t they see me leaving with you?”

“Well, it’s lucky for you that your fiancé asked me to escort you to the church,” he holds out his arm for me to grab. “Now, follow my lead.”

We walk unhurried downstairs. The house looks empty aside from maids and butlers who gawk at me. Everyone must already be waiting at the church. I look up at Carmelo who has a numb expression on his face. Of course if we were running and giggling that would spark some questions with the help in the house and also cause witnesses. He looks as though he is strictly conducting business as he escorts me out of the house and into the car.

He opens the backseat for me and I climb in. I hear a grunt outside the door and the driver climbs in and starts driving. That’s when I realize the driver is Carmelo.

“What did you do?” My eyes widen.

“Don’t worry, I just knocked him out. I’m taking you far away from here.” The engine revs and once we passed the villa’s gates, he drives as fast as he can.

The car just keeps going and going and going. I look out the window at the new landscape. I wonder where he’s taking me. I check the time on my phone, they must be searching for me now. My wedding was supposed to start an hour ago. I can’t believe I did this. I start laughing uncontrollably.

“What’s so funny?” Carmelo chuckles with me.

“We escaped! I’m free!”

“Let’s not celebrate just yet.”

“It’s doesn’t matter. I’m never going to be his, I’ll fight him. For as long as I live I will never be forced to say the words ‘I do’ again.”

I can’t help but squeal in the backseat and clap my hands together. I haven’t been this happy in a long time. My body is shaking with anticipation for what’s ahead and my mind is fully on board with it now. I continue to stare out the window as Carmelo concentrates on the road. The further we get from the villa the more Carmelo abides by the traffic laws not wanting to get pulled over or caught.

“Stop!” I yell and he slams his foot on the breaks. I put my hand out in front of me to stop myself from smacking my head against the back of the passenger seat.

“What the hell? You’re lucky there wasn’t anyone behind me or else we would’ve gotten in a car accident!”

I ignore Carmelo’s anger as I get out of the car and run across the street. “Look!” I shout and look over my shoulder to see he hasn’t gotten out of the car. “Come out here!”

He groans but listens as he slams the car door shut, locks it, and crosses the street with me. “Come on, we can’t stop here.”

“Look,” I point again.

We’re standing in front of an old cluttered antique store. “What about it? Now is not the time to go shopping. We have to keep moving.”

“No!” I grab onto his arm. “Look!” He squints his eye but I know he still doesn’t see. “There’s a violin in the window,” I point out.

“Arabella…”

“Oh please, if this goes terribly wrong and we’re going to die-then as my final wish on this Earth, I want to hear you play one more time.”

Carmelo pinches the bridge of his nose, takes a deep breath, grabs my hand and storms into the antique store. My eyes widen with all the hidden treasures, but Carmelo has no time to waste. He goes to the window and gently grabs the violin.

“It’s old,” he whispers as his hands move over the wood.

“I got that violin back in 1946,” an old man appears, seemingly out of nowhere.

“How much?” Carmelo asks in Italian.

My eyes widen. “I didn’t know you spoke Italian.”

“Neither did Gaetano or your brother. They said a lot of things meant to be said in privacy,” he smirks.

The old man looks me up and down and his eyes light up. He opens his mouth in a wide smile revealing some missing teeth. “A wedding dress!”

“We just got married,” I play pretend as I get up on my tippy toes and kiss Carmelo’s cheek.

“Then it’s on the house. Salute!” He cheers to us.

“Thank you,” Carmelo bows his head and is quick to leave.

I wave goodbye to the old man, who looks like he’s nearly in tears. He watches us in our dress and suit as we make our way to the car. Carmelo puts the violin and bow in the backseat with me and I trail my fingers over the outline of the beautifully crafted instrument.

“Do you know any songs from The Phantom of the Opera? Even though were missing the show… maybe you can perform one of the songs for me or tell me what it’s about.”

“You don’t know anything about the musical?” Carmelo looks at me through his rear view mirror.

I shake my head. “No. I mean I’ve heard of it and I know a guy wears a mask and is obsessed with a girl, but that’s it. I don’t even know how it ends.”

“You want me to spoil the ending? What if I buy us new tickets?”

“If we don’t get killed,” I mutter.

“You won’t get killed.” I notice how he said ‘you’ instead of ‘we.’

“Promise me you won’t do something stupid if we get caught,” I plead. He doesn’t say anything back. “Please!” I shout. “If we have a chance to run, we do it together. You don’t sacrifice yourself for me.”

“I swore to-”

“I’m not letting you go so easily now that you’re mine. If you… if you die because you were trying to save me,” I can’t even get the words out. “I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself so I can escape. We do this together. Okay?” I crawl into the passenger side of the car so I can see his face.

His jaw ticks and after a few seconds he finally agrees, “Fine.”

I lean in and kiss the slight stubble on his cheek. “This life isn’t worth living if it isn’t with you,” I whisper.

I ruined everything my brother had planned to be with him. I put the Moretti name and my own life in jeopardy to follow my feelings. I finally found my happiness after so long and I’m not letting it go. They’ll have to kill me if they think I’ll leave Carmelo to marry who they want me to.

I’m no longer scared of dying. I’m scared of living a life I don’t want.

Carmelo must sense my mind wandering because he puts his hand on my knee and squeezes gently. I turn to look at him to see he’s eyes are fixed on mine and he beams at me.

“So, where are we going?” I yawn.

“We still have another hour or so to go. You should get some rest.” He doesn’t have to tell me twice.