Page 20 of Tainted Princess
CHAPTER SIX
Francesca
The mirror showed me a woman I didn’t recognize anymore.
I mean, it was still me, and I still looked the same, but more and more I was feeling like my outsides didn’t match the inside.
My hair, as always, was tied back and twisted neatly, my dress was modest, with no low-cut bodice or too-short skirt; I would hate to give someone a reason to think I was anything but a good girl.
I had always worked hard to be what everyone else wanted me to be, always playing my part, no matter what the cost to me personally.
And they were still throwing me away.
As I stood there, looking at my reflection, wearing a white dress I bought for one man while on my way to marry another, a complete stranger no less, I couldn’t help but think again how my life had gone so far off the rails that it was completely unrecognizable.
Up until this week, I had never even heard of Enzo Argenti. I had grown up with Giuseppe’s other children, his two daughters, Lisa and Nina, but not once had I heard mention of a son.
Although, that was hardly surprising, really. Illegitimate children were common enough among the men of the Outfit; their wives were virgins, their mistresses whores. It seemed to be all part of the appeal.
My father never took a mistress, at least not to my knowledge. After the funeral, he spent his every spare moment with me and my training, so I hardly thought he had time for a woman, but with the amount of secrets I had been faced with in the last several months, who the hell even knew anymore?
The random spiraling of my thoughts was brought to a halt when someone knocked gently on the door.
The bridal suite, a room reserved for the bride and her entourage to get ready before the ceremony, was conspicuously empty. Not a single one of my aunts or cousins had turned up to help me dress for my big day. There should have been champagne and laughter, music and even the occasional fight. My bridesmaids should have been standing with me, posing for pictures and blowing up everyone’s Instagram feeds with too many shots of us having the time of our lives.
Instead, it was just me, alone in this cold room at the back of the church, waiting to be called to face my fate.
I opened the door, smiling at the altar boy who stood there.
“They’re ready for you, ma’am.”
I cringed as he scurried away.Ma’am? Yikes.
Although, I guess to a ten-year-old, anyone older than him would appear ancient. And it would seem that the carefree days of my youth were over now, such as they had been, anyway.
Surveying the room to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything and seeing nothing but the empty hanger my dress had come on, I closed the door and headed outside.
Originally, my wedding was scheduled to be in a grand Catholic cathedral, the sweeping architecture and stained-glass windows only adding to the frivolous grandeur that would have been the biggest wedding in a generation for the Family. Instead, it was being held in this nameless little Chapel, barely a fraction of the size. As a result, the bridal suite was not actually connected to the church, but more of an auxiliary structure added nearly a century later, most likely just for the comfort of the spoiled brides who didn’t want to stand in the elements as they waited to marry whichever poor sap they had suckered into it.
I marched slowly, like a prisoner going to the gallows, and made my way to the front of the church, the dry grass of the neglected churchyard crunching under my low-heeled shoes. The setting sun painted the gray stone of the building in tones of red and orange, and the trees had started to give up their leaves for the season, resigned to their fate much as I was to mine.
Reaching the steps, I hiked up the overly-poofy skirt of my dress, climbing until I reached the huge wooden doors.
Doors that presently stood closed.
Heaving a sigh, I reached for the iron handle, the metal cold against my skin, and I pulled, the heavy door opening with a groan.
Moving into the vestibule, I smoothed my hair and rearranged the ruffled layers of my dress. A dress which was completely inappropriate for this new occasion, but I hadn’t exactly had time to shop for something different. Feeling as though I looked as good as I was going to, I stood and peered around the empty space of the vestibule.
I could hear the low sound of men’s voices through the next set of doors, and I turned toward them, stomping across the Nathex and yanking on that door as well.
Unfortunately, this one was much lighter than the first, the door flying open with a bang, and drawing the eyes of everyone inside the Nave, their conversation suddenly halted as they stared.
Not that there were many people in there to stare at me.
I had sent out over three hundred and fifty invitations for my wedding all those months ago.
I was currently looking at less than a dozen people. And they were all men.
