Page 3 of The Enforcer's Possession
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That leaves me a lot of options.”I ended the call, dropping my phone onto the chaise just as my bedroom door opened.
Mama swept into my room like she was entering a ballroom, her posture so perfect it made my spine hurt just looking at her.She wore a cream-colored Chanel suit that probably cost more than a compact car, paired with pearls that had been in the family for three generations.Every dark hair sat exactly where it was supposed to.Not a wrinkle in sight.She looked like the poster child for “Mafia wife perfection,” and it made me want to scream.
Her gaze traveled across the disaster of my room -- the scattered clothes, the open jewelry cases, the general chaos -- but her expression remained serene.That was Sofia Lombardi’s superpower.Nothing ruffled her.Ever.
“Caterina.”She said my name like it was a complete sentence, with just enough weight to convey disappointment without actually expressing it.
“Mama.”I stayed where I was on the chaise, not bothering to sit up straighter or pretend I was doing anything productive.Let her see the mess.Let her judge it.I didn’t care.
That was a lie.I cared.But I’d rather die than admit it.
“I wanted to remind you about tonight’s dinner.”She stepped farther into the room, her heels clicking precisely against the marble.Even her footsteps were measured.“Your father expects everyone to be present and properly dressed by seven.”
“Properly dressed.”I let the words hang in the air between us, loaded with all the implications they carried.“You mean demure and obedient?Quiet and decorative?”
“I mean appropriate for a family gathering.”Her tone remained gentle, but I caught the steel underneath.Mama had spent twenty-some years perfecting the art of being firm while sounding pleasant.“We have important guests coming.”
“Of course we do.”I sat up, swinging my legs off the chaise with deliberate carelessness.One of my discarded shoes clattered across the floor.“Let me guess.Someone essential.Someone whose opinion matters.Someone Papa wants to impress.”
Mama’s lips pressed together for just a moment -- the only crack in her composure.“This is vital to your father.”
“Everything is a key component to Papa.His reputation, his alliances, his legacy.”I stood, moving to my vanity and picking up a bottle of perfume just to have something to do with my hands.“His ability to control every aspect of his daughter’s life.”
“Caterina.”This time my name came with a sigh, and when I glanced at her reflection in the mirror, I saw something that might have been weariness in her eyes.“Must you make everything a battle?”
“Must he treat me like property?”I set the perfume down harder than necessary.The glass bottle made a sharp sound against the marble vanity top.“I’m not a business asset, Mama.I’m a person.”
“No one said you weren’t.”
“They don’t have to say it.They just act like it.”I turned to face her directly, crossing my arms.“Do you know what he told me last week?That it was time I started considering my options.My options.Like I’m shopping for a new car instead of thinking about my future.”
Mama moved to my bed, perching on the edge with practiced grace.Even sitting casually, she looked like she was posing for a portrait.“Your father wants what’s best for you.”
“What’s best for the family, you mean.”
“Sometimes those things align.”
“And when they don’t?”I challenged.“What happens when what’s best for the family means sacrificing what I want?What I need?”
She looked at me then, really looked at me, and for a moment I saw something genuine beneath the polished exterior.Regret, maybe.Or recognition.“We all make sacrifices, Caterina.That’s what it means to be part of something larger than ourselves.”
“I didn’t ask to be part of this.”My voice came out sharper than I intended.“I didn’t choose the Lombardi name.I didn’t choose this life.”
“None of us do.”She stood, smoothing her skirt even though it didn’t need smoothing.“But it’s the life we have.The question is what we do with it.”
I wanted to argue more, to push until that perfect composure cracked and she admitted how much she’d given up, how much she’d swallowed to be Giuseppe Lombardi’s wife.But I also knew it was pointless.Mama had made her peace with her choices a long time ago.She’d decided that compliance was easier than resistance, that playing the role was safer than fighting the script.
I’d never be able to do the same.
“Seven o’clock,” she said again, moving toward the door.“Please don’t be late.And, Caterina?”She paused, her hand on the doorknob.“Wear something appropriate.”
I drummed my manicured nails against the vanity top, the sharpclick-click-clickfilling the silence.It was a nervous habit I’d never been able to break, and one that drove my father crazy.Mama’s gaze flicked to my hand, but she said nothing.Just waited.
“I’ll be there,” I said finally.“Properly dressed and everything.”
Something in my tone must have warned her, because her eyes narrowed slightly.Not angry, just… knowing.She’d raised me, after all.She knew when I was planning something.
