Page 29 of Married to the Mafia

Even with the rain steadily falling, I wouldn’t have minded. I could vanish into the masses, made my way to the bus station or a cab rank, found a way out of the city and back to my old life. If Dino hadn’t shown me the gun he’s got hidden inside his jacket.

It seems to me as I sit in a wedding dress I haven’t chosen that I’m not in charge of my life anymore. It’s something that is happening to me rather than something I am actively controlling. In other circumstances, I might consider my dress beautiful.

It fits me perfectly, not something I would expect for a wedding dress. It’s as if they made it for me. I run my hands over the diamonds sewn into the fabric. It must have cost afortune. I look across at Dino. He’s staring in front of him, saying nothing.

I run my hand to the door handle as secretly as I can. I give it a turn, but nothing happens. I’m locked in. The window isn’t working either. I could try banging on the blacked out glass, but would anyone notice. Would they even hear over the noise of traffic?

We’re moving steadily along. It’s after morning rush hour and most people due at work are already there. No work for me today. Nothing to do but get swept along the path to misery.

He’s making me marry him. I don’t want to do it. I won’t do it. I can’t do it.

I don’t want to be married to him. He’s a monster. He’s made that clear already.

None of this makes any sense. Why won’t he believe me about the casino chip? He thinks it means I’m the daughter of some big mafia chief. As if my dad could be chief of anything.

He’s got a bad back, takes about half a dozen pills a day for his blood pressure and other things. He collects postcards. He can’t handle yoghurt, it makes his guts play up. Not exactly Capo dei Capi material, is he?

Dino has got it wrong about all of this. I try to tell him as we drive through the streets, but he won’t listen, just keeps calling me a good liar. The more I try to convince him of the truth, the better he thinks I’m honing my lying skills. I can’t win.

I glance across at him again, seeing that thick neck of his, the way his arms make his suit fabric stretch, like he might burst out of it at any moment.

What would that look like?

I don’t like that question. It comes into my head fromnowhere and refuses to go away, making me tingle in places that have no right to be responding to the situation. I should be afraid.

Scratch that, I am afraid. I’m not excited by the thought of slipping into his marital bed with only this dress between the two of us.

No panties underneath it, either. That’s not something I’ve ever done before. Gone without underwear.

One big sneeze and my tits will fly out of the top. I try not to breathe too deeply. They’re already heaving up and down and getting wobbled by the bumps in the street surface.

I’m not happy. I’m not thinking about being naked in front of him, the way he looked me up and down. I’m not thinking about the fleeting moment when he touched me while dressing me, the way my nipples pebbled and I felt wetness growing between my legs. It didn’t happen. I refuse to accept that it did.

He’s a cruel man. An absolute bastard, cold to the core. I decide. First chance I get, I’m going to run. There must be a way of getting out of the church. I have to at least try.

The car slows to a stop. I’m getting out of here and going to the police. They’ll help me. Kidnapping is a serious charge. He’s going to jail for this for a very long time and then I can go back to my ordinary life. No demolition of the shelter. No mansion being built. All back to normal.

He climbs out of the car first, walking around to my side to pull my door open. “Out,” he says.

I climb out onto the sidewalk. I look past him. There’s no one to call to for help. “In there,” he says, nodding toward a small side door.

I go through it and I’m in some kind of dressing room attached to the church. A woman in a garish red dress isstanding by the sort of chair you get in a hair salon. She smiles at me and picks up a hairbrush. “Let’s get started,” she says.

Dino closes the door to the street and crosses the room. “Don’t be long,” he says. “I’ll be waiting.”

He goes into the church and shuts the door, leaving me alone with the woman. “I’m Marjorie,” she says. “I’m thinking tied up to show off that gorgeous face of yours. What do you think?”

“Please,” I say to her, grabbing her shoulders. “You’ve got to help me.”

“Pre-wedding nerves is it? That’s perfectly normal. Just take several deep breaths and you’ll be fine.”

“No, you don’t understand. He’s insane. He’s kidnapped me. I don’t want to marry him. You’ve got to call the police.”

“Listen, I know you’re nervous, but Dino is a good man. He’ll take care of you.”

“Oh, fuck. You’re on his side, aren’t you?”

I turn and run for the door to the street. She reaches out to stop me, but fear gives me speed. I shove the door with my shoulder and crash outside.

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