Page 4 of Forever Mine

Uh oh. Nana full-named my father.

My father sighs and rolls his eyes as he follows my grandmother into his home office. Lucia quickly walks over to me and hands me tissues.

“Wipe your face. You’re a mess,” Lucia whispers.

“Jesus, Lucia. You could be nicer to me,” I mutter.

“Your betrothed will be here in thirty minutes to meet you. If you don’t want more violence, fix your face. I’ve heard Angelino isn’t the nicest. Sorry, sis,” she says quietly. Another wave of nausea overtakes me, and I run to the bathroom and empty the contents of my stomach.

After rinsing my mouth out, I stand to take a look at myself in the mirror. Holy shit. I look horrendous. My lip is cut where my dad’s ring caught it, and my cheek is already beginning to bruise. My eyes are puffy, my nose is red, and I’ve clearly been crying. As much as Lucia’s warning is messing with my head, I don’t want to make myself ‘look good’ for some crazy old guy who preys on juveniles. No way does a man contract an eleven-year-old kid with good intentions.

I hear the doorbell ring, and a weight settles in my stomach. He’s early. My future husband is early. Obviously, he’s much more excited about our contracted engagement than I am.

“Monica! Out, now!” I hear my mother not-so-sweetly shout.

I take a deep breath, attempting to calm my nerves, but it’s not working. I’m shaking. I can’t believe this is my life. Most seventeen-year-olds are looking forward to prom, college, and being out of their parents’ clutches. But I’m not most. I’m a mafia princess, a role I clearly didn’t choose, and now I’m expected to play the part.

As I open the bathroom door, I see my mama with Joseph Angelino. He leers at me, taking a very obvious perusal up and down my body and then nodding as if he approves.

“Stellina,” he coos.

Fucking hell.

I am not your little star, you pedophile.

“Smile at him, Monica,” my mother hisses in my ear.

I shake my head as I stare at this man. I can see fury developing in his eyes, and I know what my sister said is true.

“Show some respect to me, beloved,” Joseph snarls.

“As you showed respect to me when you asked for my hand in marriage? The hand of an eleven-year-old?” I blurt out. Joseph immediately backhands me, hitting the other cheek. I taste blood.

“You will not speak to me like that. You must learn your place,” Joseph seethes.

I don’t speak. Anything I feel like saying will just result in getting hit again.

I know at this moment if my grandmother can’t talk some sense into my father that my life is over. Joseph Angelino will stop at nothing to break my spirit. I’ll be damned if that is the life I’m going to lead.

I’d rather die.

As my father and grandmother return from my father’s office, I quietly leave the room and sneak off to my backyard oasis. I’ve always loved to hide in my mother’s gardens. She’s an avid gardener, and she has massive floral plants that are perfect for escaping.

I know my grandmother will find me here. She always does. I lie under a gigantic salvia and doze off.

It’s dark when I wake. I’m unsure what time it is, and as I reach for my phone in my back pocket, I hear voices approaching. Male voices.

“You promised her to me, Paulie,” Joseph Angelino snarls.

“Well, things change,” my father responds.

“What the fuck did your mother say to you? We had a deal. A contract. You can’t just change your fucking mind.”

“Our contract was verbal, and I realize the error in my ways. However, it is concerning that you went after an eleven-year-old child, Joey.”

“Well, now you’re gonna give me the younger girl.”

“Isabella is already promised to someone else,” my dad says patiently.

---