Page 2 of Beautiful Devil

“And before you think about lying to us, just know that we’ve already checked to see that his car is in the driveway and we watched him walk in the front door,” Officer Kelly adds.

I begin to feel physically sick as worst-case scenarios fill my head about Gallo and why the police have graced us with their presence.

“Y-yes, he’s here. He’s in his office still working. May I ask what this is pertaining to?”

Sergeant Matthews looks me in the eyes and says, “We’re here to arrest your husband, ma’am.”

The spoon that I didn’t even know I was still holding falls to the ground. Trying to clear the sound of my heartbeat in my ears, I ask in barely a whisper, “W-what did you just say?”

Sergeant Matthews steps forwards and hands me what I assume is an arrest warrant. “Assume” being the key word, because even though her mouth is moving and I know she’s talking, my body has gone into shock and the sound of my heartbeat is back in my ears, causing me to lose focus and not listen to anything she’s saying.

I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. Is this what having a stroke feels like? Staring down at myself, watching this scene unfold before my very eyes as more officers come out of nowhere and rush into the house.

Officer Kelly pushes past me, and I hear someone call out in the distance, “Gallo, come out! You’re under arrest. We know you’re here. There's nowhere for you to hide.”

I hear the sound of feet stomping across our wooden floors before a masculine voice penetrates through the house.

“Shit, he’s running. Don’t let him escape!”

Before I even get a chance to orient myself, I see at least twenty men sporting uniforms with the letters “S.W.A.T.” on them appear in my front yard, their guns at the ready and Sergeant Matthews chasing after a running Gallo. Watching as she tackles him, hard, to the ground, making him land with a loud “oomph” as the breath is knocked out of him. I also hear the loud thud of his head and side of his face hitting the cement driveway and the sound of bone breaking, which I can only assume must be his cheekbone and nose, causing me to internally cringe at the painful sound.

I still feel like I’m watching this scene unfold out of my body when I hear Gallo screaming, “Get off me, bitch! What the hell is all this about? You’ve got the wrong guy.”

My body finally works again as I race forward and run as fast as I can to a combative Gallo. My body is in shock, my limbs gangly and weak, but I’m running toward him as though he’s my life raft out of this nightmare.

The ringing in my ears is still so strong, as if there was a bomb that went off preventing me from hearing anything other than slight murmurs here and there. Nothing that I can make out as actual words or sentences.

I finally catch up to where Gallo is as I take in the scene that has unfolded in front of me and can see what is going on.

Gallo is still on the ground with Sergeant Matthews on his back putting handcuffs around his wrists and talking to him, obviously reading him his Miranda rights. Neighbors on both sides of what was once a very quiet suburban street are standing in their front yards and on their porches trying to get a glimpse as to what’s going on and who is on the ground.

I look up to be met with Sergeant Matthews, who is walking Gallo toward a squad car in front of our house.

My body clearly has a mind of its own, because the next thing I know, I’m running after them while screaming, “Gallo! What’s going on?”

He stops right before he’s placed in the backseat of the cop car and turns to me to say, “What do you think, Gia? Surely you can’t be that stupid.” His cackling laugh vibrates through the air at the ridiculous joke he just made, and right before Officer Kelly closes the door, I hear him say, “Dumb bitch.”

I’m shocked and rooted in place. I don’t have the energy to try to push back and make an even bigger scene right now. The last thing I need is to be arrested as well, joining Gallo as he makes his way to jail.

I’m unable to tear my eyes away from my husband’s departure, he shoots me a death glare from the back passenger side of the cop car as it drives off into the distance.

“How about we go inside now so we can talk?” Sergeant Matthews asks as she graciously takes hold of my hand and steers me into the house.

* * *

Sitting in the courtroom, I’m dragged back from my daydream as I look around the somber and windowless space. It’s old and stuffy, with worn out sage green carpet – the only color in the room – that looks like it’s seen better days and certainly predates my time. Dark wood makes up the counsel's tables, witness stand, jury box and the seats for the general public, where I’m currently sitting with my best friend, Elle, by my side.

My eyes focus on the judge’s unoccupied mahogany bench straight ahead, and I feel the cold hard timber seat under my bare legs as I silently wait for court to commence its session. Since this is classified as a “high-profile” case, I'm only surrounded by a handful of people, who I can only assume are reporters, as I hear them eagerly shuffling through their writing pads.

It’s then that I spot Gallo's mom, sitting directly behind his lawyer, and a pinch of guilt courses through me.

She doesn't deserve this.

His mom is a good woman and a great mother. She looks so frail, her head bowing down in defeat. I want to get up and go give her a hug, but I know that it probably won't be welcome, given how I've isolated myself from everything relating to Gallo since his arrest.

I haven't wanted to attend the trial before today, which has now been going on for three days. Given the magnitude of the federal crimes with which he was indicted, it had taken the district attorney's office of Massachusetts several days to present their case. They needed to get through six witnesses, Gallo included.Shortly after his arrest, the district attorney had initially thought that I might need to be cross-examined, but it was discovered soon enough that I had no knowledge of his crimes, and I was of no real use to helping them build a case against Gallo.

Despite not attending trial for the past few days, I’ve been following the news surrounding it. It’s been plastered everywhere. I mean, he’dallegedlyembezzled significant amounts of money from high-ranking politicians to some of Boston's most notorious crime families. I still can’t believe my eyes, and with each article I read, I feel my body shutting down more and more.

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