Page 9 of Final Installment
“They should have arranged the marriage between Skender and Rina.”
“It probably couldn’t have been any worse than this,” I agreed.“At least those two are closer in age.”
“He’s dating someone.”She eyed me in her mirror.“Did you know?”
I nodded.“I haven’t met her yet.”
“I’m surprised.You and Skender are so close I figured he would have asked your advice.”
“He’s a grown man, Dafina.He doesn’t need my advice or blessing on a relationship.”
She made a little sound of annoyance.“Is she Italian?”
“Yes.He met her at the university.In the library,” I added, thinking that it was a romantic detail.
“She’s probably a Raffaelli honeypot to keep him under control,” she remarked unkindly.
“Dafina!”
“What?He’s been their hostage for, like, nine years.They didn’t manage to brainwash him completely so I’m sure they’re looking for ways to keep him in line until this whole thing is over.”
Poor Skender.When our grandfather’s small mafia fiefdom failed to earn enough money to pay the agreed installments, the Raffaellis had come for my brother.They’d taken him away, held him hostage in lavish old palace under constant guard.I spoke to him every day and tried to visit as often as possible, but it wasn’t the same as being together.
And Dafina was wrong.This thing between our families would never actually be over.Not even after Dafina and Luka married to satisfy the peace treaty by uniting our families.Not after the Raffaelli family, the custodian of the funds and property held as collateral, returned what was owed to all of us.Not after the Beciraj family resumed control of the lucrative narcotics trade that had been taken from them in lieu of giving over Rina as a hostage.Not after Dafina and Luka had a baby to finally and completely tie us together.
There would just be something new, something ugly and dramatic.Probably from the Raffaellis who were absolutely not going to enjoy the new power dynamic.Maybe from one of the other mafia families in Northern Albania where our grandfather still had supporters.Maybe even from farther away, the Russians or the Serbs or the Turks.
Our family was steeped in a sordid, seedy and very dangerous business.So, no, it would never, ever be over.
“You would have been a better choice for Luka,” Dafina commented suddenly.
“I doubt that very much.”Luka was a wealthy, powerful and handsome man.Gorgeous, graceful Dafina was the ideal match.
"It wouldn’t be an even trade obviously.”She rose from her vanity and tucked something into her purse.“We’re talking trading a Lambo for a Honda.I’m sexy, sleek and fast.You’re—.”
“Reliable?”I cut in, not wanting to hear whatever word was on the tip of her forked tongue.
“Sure.Reliable.”She clearly had an uglier thought in mind.“The point I’m trying to make is that you are wife material.”
“Hardly.”Women like me weren’t wife material.With my secrets?With my mistakes?No one wanted me, not after the things I’d done.
My first experience with love had been a traumatic nightmare that wasn’t actually love at all.It was coercion and grooming, and no matter how many therapy sessions I attended, no matter how much I had changed and grown as a person, I feared that I would never escape that shame.I might look like I had it all together but inside?I was a broken mess of a girl who desperately wanted to be loved.
“I always wanted to get married,” Dafina said.“But on my own terms.Not like this.”
“I’m sorry, Dafina.I really am.”
“But not sorry enough to do anything about it,” she muttered.“None of you are.You’re all just counting down the hours and minutes until this is over and you’re all free from this shadow that’s been hanging over us for years.”
My stomach soured with guilt.Everything she said was true.
“I’m late for my spa appointment.”She grabbed her phone.“You’re changing before dinner, right?”
“Yes.”
“Into something that doesn’t look like a bedsheet?”
“Yes, a black dress.”
