Page 3 of Forever Mine

“Why did you say that?” I ask.

“Because I liked it,anjinho.”

“You liked me calling you daddy?”

“Yes.”

Oh. Puta merda indeed.

CHAPTER TWO

Monica

Age 17

“I won’t do it, Papa. I won’t. You can’t make me,” I shout, tears filling my eyes as I stare defiantly at my father. I don’t see his hand as it lashes violently across my face.

“You will do exactly as I say, little girl. I am your father and I runLa Famiglia. You will marry Joseph Angelino in two months. It is what you were born to do, Monica. You are the princess. You will marry and carry on the family name,” my father snarls.

I clutch my cheek as pain radiates down to my neck. I glance at my mother quickly, but she averts her eyes. So typical. Heaven forbid she stand up to her husband and demand he does not assault me. As my eyes roam around the room, I see varying expressions across my sibling’s faces. Alessio, Marco, and Dante look similar as they stare at me with disdain. They’re all older, already established withinLa Famiglia, and are what I’d call ‘chips off the ole block’ as they mirror our father’s decisions and attitudes. My older sister, Lucia, looks sympathetically at me as she gently holds her baby bump but doesn’t speak up. She’s married to one of my father’s captains. She won’t say a fucking word out of fear of getting disciplined by my father and her husband. Salvatore Carluccio is destined to be the next don of the family, according to him. All of my brothers vehemently disagree.

Looking at my two younger siblings, I’m overcome with fear. Giovanni is only ten years old, an unexpected surprise for my aging parents. Isabella, at fourteen, is struggling to find her footing withinLa Famigliaand even more so within our family. I hate that she feels she’s ‘stuck’ here. Stuck in this ridiculous mafia world that none of us wanted.

As my father continues to berate me, a commotion breaks out in the entryway.

“Let me through, god dammit!”

I try not to giggle but fail. My grandmother is coming. The only person who I know will respect me and fight for me. Rose Valducci Russo is one hell of a force to be reckoned with.

“Mama,” my father sighs, resigned.

“Paul,” my grandmother snaps. “What is going on here?”

“Just making Monica understand her place,” my father mutters.

“And what exactly is that?” Nana asks.

“She’s to marry Joseph Angelino the day after she turns eighteen. It’s been decided, and I agreed to a contract years ago.”

“He’s forty years old!” Nana shouts.

“So? He asked for her hand six years ago,” my father admits. I’m overcome with a wave of nausea. My father allowed a thirty-two-year-old man to contract himself to me when I was only eleven? How completely vile!

“I will not allow this, Paul. I will not,” my grandmother snarls.

“You dare to disrespect me in my house?” my father roars. All of us kids cower, but my grandmother stays steadfast in her posture as she stares defiantly at my father.

“Your father would turn over in his grave if he heard you talking to me like that,” my grandmother mutters.

“Mama, don’t you dare use padre as a scapegoat here. You know how it is inLa Famiglia. Marriage contracts are a part of this life,” my father explains.

“I didn’t ask for this life, Papa! This isn’t fair!” I cry out, frustrated, as tears cascade down my cheeks. My mascara is probably running, but I don’t care. I’ve basically just been given a life sentence. Marry a man over double my age and spend the rest of my life stuck in La Famiglia.

“It doesn’t matter what you want, little girl. I’m your father, and I decide what happens to you. You’re marrying Angelino, end of discussion,” my father says as he stares at my grandmother.

“Nana,” I whisper, beseeching her with a pleading look.

“It’s okay,dolce bambino,” she says as she cups my cheek with her hand and pats it lightly. “Paul Christopher Joseph Russo! I will speak to you in private.”

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