Page 1 of Runaway in the Mafia
PROLOGUE
CORLEONE, SICILY, ITALY.
ADA
Repentance.
The sky shone bright above her, but her soul whirled dark with doom. The black car following her was a speck in her peripheral. A future full of doubts weighed heavily with each footstep she took on the cobbled pavement. A past full of regrets joined in. A fake smile at passersby, an occasional chat about the weather with a few, could have tricked a stranger. She even let out a laugh that sounded cheerful. It sounded carefree and innocent, like a tinkling of bells. But if you listened hard, took the time to burrow deep, you would find the hollow cracks within it and the echoes that crawled out of its depths.Sinner.It screamed.
Sins and secrets. That’s what had edged her life. Born in sin and lived in sin. No matter how many times she went to church and dropped to her knees, those followed her like the dark shadow pasted to her feet.
She had thought that they weren’t even hers. In her world, God said to be obedient to thy husband. To love thy husband. Toaccept thy husband just as he was… an imperfect man. Her hand clenched around her soft leather bag, and for a moment, she forgot herself. The half smile that tilted her lips morphed into an angry frown. If there ever was a flawed man, that was Carlo. God created him to set an example of imperfection for others to follow. But she had loved him. Even when he was unfaithful to her. Not once. Not twice. But several times a day, every single day. But she had still loved him. That was her role, wasn’t it? That was what she was put on Earth to do.
When she had married Carlo, it wasn’t like she knew nothing about sin. Her father couldn’t wait long enough for her mother to walk down the aisle in white, so he tainted her and her reputation months before the wedding. She had been born to her parents after the marriage, but she had been conceived well before it. Sins were her destiny. A father in theCosa Nostraand a husband who became the don of theCosa Nostra. She had seen her fair share of weapons underneath a suit and blood spilling behind peeling wallpaper. Yes. Sins weren’t anything new to her.
Neither was infidelity. Even if she had been naïve and she had hoped for love, for honesty, for faithfulness from a man who had been trained to kill from the age of eleven. It was nothing new. Rather, a tradition passed down from father to son. But flaunting it in front of her. That she hadn’t seen coming.
For years, he’d come home reeking of another woman’s perfume with a collar stained with scarlet lipstick. But at least each day had been a different perfume. A different shade of red on white. At least he took a shower before he found her in their marital bed. She put up with it for years. When he came crawling between her legs, she pretended he was all hers. Only hers. But she never asked him where he had been or what, or rather who, he had done. Because somewhere along the edge of her heart traced a dark line that said he might not spare her and tell her a lie. That wasn’t something she was ready for. No matterhow many times she’d seen evidence with her father and her brothers, she didn’t want to see it in her husband. So she turned a blind eye. She made herself pretty and waited for him each night. Waited until he came out of the bathroom fresh and gave herself to him willingly, hoping one day she would be enough for him.
That day never came. What did was his callousness. Years into their marriage, a son to inherit, and a knock on the door and a child from another woman. Still, she took that baby girl on. She mothered her as her oldest daughter and carried her husband’s secrets with her. Somewhere in her naivety, she thought he would be grateful for that. He was. He showed it by not bothering to shower anymore. Coming from another woman right into her bed. A sweat-filled body on top of her, drunken breath next to her, but he still found her every night, and that kept the hope flaring even if it hadn’t been the same spark as before.
She birthed two more daughters, brought all four of them up with ample love and care, and even when that day came when she first walked into his office in their home to find him buried between the new maids’ legs, she believed in him. Even when her son begged her to leave him, she believed in him. Her place on Earth was to serve him. To honour him. Not to dishonour him.
The first time she finally realised her mistake was when her daughter, the eldest one she had birthed, was given in marriage. Only then did she finally realise the example she’d set for her children. When she realised her daughters had measured men up to Carlo and found them all made of the same mould. She’d bathed them, clothed them, fed them. But she’d forgotten to set a path clear of turmoil for them. And the worst part was that the man, who had not only destroyed her life but the lives of her children too, was dead by then. So how could she rectify the worst mistake in her life when he wasn’t around to take the hit?
Her steps slowed until they stopped. The vehicle caught up with her. The black tinted glass reflected an image of a woman. She looked burned with regrets. She looked as tired as she felt.
Repentance.
There was only one way she knew how. She carried her sins in her heart, and once a week, she tried to rectify them.
“Signora Di Matteo siamo arrivati.”
She looked to the side and found the door to her Porsche Cayenne open and one of her son’s thugs standing next to it. This one was called Giuseppe. Another boy who came from a family of sinners and had killed from an early age to be in theCosa Nostra. Thus, the sins went on.
With a heavy sigh and a heavier gait, she stepped out of her air-conditioned car to the dry heat of Corleone. In front of her lay the once crumbling shelter that she’d been coming to now for over a year. Like clockwork, she left her grand house behind and let herself be driven to the outskirts. She always picked a newcomer to drive her, but never family.
They said you knew your family the best. She definitely did. She wouldn’t trust any of the men in hers near an unprotected woman. Especially her son. She loved her firstborn, but it didn’t take her fear away. They said an apple never fell far from its tree. That thought alone kept her awake each night. Would her son be a living replica of her husband now that he was the don? He had already stepped in that direction by marrying her second daughter off for an alliance with New York. Sooner or later, he would show his true colours, and she couldn’t get herself to trust him. Just like she didn’t trust any of the men in her family. Definitely not around the women here who had gone throughenough in their lives and were trying to build a life while running away from their demons.
This was the only way she knew how not to sink from the heavy guilt she carried. It was too late for her. It was too late to change the trauma of her girls. But these girls behind the new building and iron gates that she had helped build up. These girls were going to be different. She was going to make sure of it.
“Vai a farti un giro, figliolo. Io starò qui per un po’.”
Her muttered words didn’t impact the boy following her. In fact, he followed her closer than her own shadow, and she was already tired of her shadow. Angrily, she turned around. “Didn’t you understand me? I said to take a break. I’ll be here for a while.”
“ButSignoraDi Matteo—”
“My son doesn’t need to know everything I do. Now I will take some time here, so go for a break. Have some fun that doesn’t involve killing someone or dealing in something illegal. When I am done, I will call you. Now go.”
Giuseppe hesitated for a second, but if her words held no impact, her angry glare must have, because he backed off and drove off in a hurry.
With a sigh, she turned around and rang the video bell, courtesy of her husband’s dirty money. What an irony. She hoped he was turning in his grave. His hard-earned money spent on women fleeing from men like him.
“Benvenuta signora Di Matteo.”
She smiled at the camera as the iron gates clicked open. Welcome indeed. This was her first genuine smile of the day.
There was something about this place. She strolled through the well-maintained garden towards the building. In front of the wrought iron porch, she could already see Martina awaiting her. She ran this sanctuary and guided these women, who came to her battered and hungry, and left strong and able. Her eyessquinted as she saw a girl standing next to her. With each step she took, the girl came clearer into her view.
