Page 43 of Made to Sin

I’d gotten my wish of everything not hurting anymore, but like all the anti-drug ads preached, getting high wasn’t the solution to problems. The white powder calmed me down for a few hours, but as it left my bloodstream, so did the temporary happiness.

I was left with a gaping hole that needed to be filled before I dove into more drugs. I remembered reading somewhere in books that going on drives helped people clear their minds, so on a whim, I decided to try it.

As numb as I felt, I was still smart enough to choose one of the least expensive cars. Marco would have served my head on a silver platter if I had taken one of his vintage prizes.

But who knows?

Today was full of contradictions. Perhaps in a parallel world, it was Opposite Day, and it flooded into ours.

Exhibit A: The guards actually opened the gates when Iasked. There was no doubt they would alert Marco as soon as I left the property, but I’d worry about the punishment later.

Right now, I had another issue to think about: I hadn’t gotten behind the wheel in over five years. Papà had taught me the basics of driving when I was seventeen, but when I married Marco, he didn’t let me have any free rein, so I hadn’t driven since.

Whatever maneuvering I was currently doing came from pure muscle memory. I didn’t route a destination nor did I know which direction I was driving in. I drove where the road took me, watching the gas tank deplete as I went around the suburban streets of our neighborhood in a striking blue BMW.

My heart skipped a beat when I found myself at a freeway entrance. It was dangerous, but the thought of driving without restrictive bounds was thrilling.

I made the rash decision to enter.

I whooped and cheered as the speedometer hit a higher number than the last. Within a couple of minutes, I was already surpassing other cars on the road. Blood rushed to my ears for each, cockily winning the made-up race in my head.

I felt on top of the world.

Until I didn’t…

Loud sirens sounded and streaks of red and blue snapped me out of the unaware haze I was in.

Merda, I couldn’t get arrested

I didn’t have a license or any paperwork the police needed, and a heavy amount of cocaine was leftover in my system. If the officer wanted, I could be behind bars for a while.

Maybe it was worse to do what I did next, but I was never good at making level-headed decisions. I pressed my foot down as much as the accelerator would give, swerving between lanes until I found the next closest exit.

Not caring about which family’s property I was in, I got off the freeway. It was better to deal with theCosa Nostra’slaws thanthe legal ones. Here, I could pray Marco had something to give in exchange for my life. If not, optimistically thinking, they could traffick me off to some nice family in Switzerland to be a live-in maid. They would get money, and I would get to see Switzerland.

My husband’s car was cut off by an intimidatingly tinted SUV. I lost the cops but got caught immediately by the mob. No wonder Mamma couldn’t survive, it hadn’t even been a full five minutes before I was cornered.

I turned the ignition off and placed my hands on the wheel, ready for the interrogation.

“Get out of the car,” a gruff man stated, a gun directing his command.

The man didn’t look or sound like a very nice person to his enemies. My hands curled into clammy fists by my side, fearful of what my punishment was but complied. Suddenly, I wished I was caught by the police instead.

“Why are you speeding on Beneveti property with a Camello license plate?”

“It’s not my car,” I said, slightly relieved it was Luciano’s turf and not the Bartolos whom my husband had tense relations with.

The man wasn’t as relieved, immediately pointing his gun at me. Rethinking my response, I realized I sounded like a thief.

Theclickof the safety got me to spew out any explanation possible. “Wait! I meant I took it from my husband, Marco Camello. He has an alliance with Luciano and told me to meet him.”

The man suspiciously lowered the gun, but before I had a chance to thank God for letting me get away with my lie, another man had my hands bound behind my back by a rope.

The thick tweed burned like a bitch, but I was more worried about being dragged into the SUV than anything. TheCosa Nostrawas strict about respect, yet how much would they respect someone— a woman— from another family?

“Let me go,” I exasperated, grinding my heels into thepavement. “I told you, my husband has an alliance with your boss. Ask him if you don’t believe me.”

“Shut up,” the one holding me emphasized, twisting my arm a bit tighter.

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