CHIARA
Yusuf, my potter artist, gave me his reasoning for adding Carmelo to my guest list. Even my paint artist, Safiya, agreed. Not because they were a married couple but because it made sense. Now that I think about it... Yusuf had a point, and I was so stupid for a second to care about the business competition between Conti and Marino when Antonio cared nothing about me. Carmelo's presence was going to be beneficial for our art exhibition. Even if I hated to admit it.
I eased down on my chair, sighing. This morning, I received the information about the items I'd bought yesterday at the auction. I haven't replied to any of Enzo's calls or texts since last night. And I could only imagine how much he loathed my actions. A smile etched on my lip, finalizing the order of a beautiful mini bag I'd found on the socials.
Tonight's family dinner was surely going to be fun.
****
We all settled on the dining table, with Antonio at the head seat, followed by Mamma, me, and Enzo on my left end. Marco and Luca sat across from us.
The maids served us the food. It was a feast. I wanted to be anywhere else but on this table. They had an annoying conversation about politics and mafia businesses, and who currently reigned in the underworld. Antonio has been leading for years since the Conti mafia leader decided to back down and crowned his younger son as the new mafia lord.
But nobody was prepared for the young man to take over not only the Mafia, but also the underworld as a whole. He is rarely seen, but his name is spoken in all the rooms you set foot in.
Apparently, Antonio's ego was hurt. And he was planning on becoming a congressman just to accumulate enough power to crush the young Conti. But that's only if he did win. A smirk curled my lips.
"The campaign would start in a few weeks," Antonio uttered, chewing like the pig that he was. Why couldn't the food just go in the wrong pipe and choke him to death? "Glad to hear that it would not hinder our wedding." Enzo took my ring hand and placed a kiss on it.
Oh no.
"That's right." Antonio supported.
"Excuse me, you're getting married? When did this happen?" The hurt in her eyes was too unbearable. It scratched my heart and left it stinging. Marco dabbed his lips with a napkin, waiting. Damn it. I should've told her sooner.
"Yes, Mama. It's terribly shocking that your beloved daughter didn't inform you about it." Luca said, sipping his wine. "The paparazzi job suits you," I growled at him. "Oh, then I should try it." He stared at me with a grin. Asshole.
"You did this," Mamma turned to Antonio. "My daughter is getting married, and I'm not aware of it goddamit!" She flung her plate to the ground. It shattered into pieces. My lips parted, and my eyes gaped at her.
"Stop making a big deal out of it, Laura. I was going to tell you." Antonio replied. "When? When you already married her off? She is my fucking daughter for fuck's sake!" She yelled at him, fire raging in her eyes.
Holy shit. I leaned back; my surprise was replaced by warmth spreading in my chest. Antonio stared at her as though he couldn't recognize her. And so did the twins. She never yelled at him, ever. How catastrophic, entertaining. This, ladies and gentlemen, was my mother.
I held her back. "Mamma, calm down." She pushed my hand off. Yes! Yes! "You shut up! Not another word." She said and stormed out of the room. A door banged a few seconds later. Marco stood up and went after her while the maids rushed over to clean the floor.
"Well, that was unexpected," Enzo said. You meant, another embarrassing thing to taint Antonio with? I felt like clapping with my butts. "Since the dinner is over, can I have a moment with my fiancée?"
Antonio's clenched jaws relaxed, replaced by an officiated smile. "Of course, she is all yours." I scoffed as I stood up.
The moment I stepped out, I was shoved against the wall. A firm hand wrapped around my neck, and a pair of blood-raging eyes came forth. The air became pricy in an instant for me. "Five million dollars? I gave you my card for one night and you spent five fucking million dollars? Are you out of your fucking mind?" His thunderous voice hit my face.
I was fighting for air, but at the same time, I couldn't help but relish his reaction. "You're smiling? You have the balls to smile right now you fucking bitch?" His grip tightened around my neck, blocking the cords further, I coughed. The fucker had a strong chokehold, I'd give him that. However, strong was what I'd spent my entire life perfecting. I clawed my nails on his arms and dug deeper into his flesh.
"Fuck! You bitch!" He let go and backhanded me. Hair spilled on my face while a zing sound rang in my ears in my bent-over position. I rose and pushed the hair back, tasting metal at the corner of my lips as I poked it with the tip of my tongue. "Ah, you stingy bastard," I smirked.
He got me beaten up and bruised the other day. So I thought I should teach him a lesson, but clearly, Antonio had a lot of his kind out there. "At least I returned your card with money still left in it. I should've dried every cent. What a loss."
His growled, hands cleched into balls as he launched at me. I ducked, pulled out a knife from my garter, and ripped at his chest. Hebacked up, sneering. "Fuck! I swear to God I'm going to kill you, Chiara." His shirt was crimson red along the diagonal cut I'd given him.
"You are welcome to try, but in your shape? Nah, you won't stand a chance." I flicked the knife around. "You—I swear this won't end here." He turned to leave. "Trust me, we could take it anywhere you wanted, and the result would still be the same for you; zero. Hey, Enzo," I called out, making him stop in his furious strides. He fully turned to face me, glaring bullets at me.
The poor guy was scammed. He must've thought I was yet another pushover because of my gender. Same old stereotypes. I loved fools who thought I was a fool. "Next time you dare to put your hands on me, I'm going to be cutting something else. Who knows?" I pointed with my knife, "Maybe something lower and between your legs if my hands missed a mark." I winked at him.
He regarded me with a grim face, fisting his hands so hard his knuckes turned white. "I will kill you" He resumed walking. "Are you sure? My knife is poisoned." I shouted. He halted for a beat and then bolted to his car. "To the hospital! Now!" He barked to his men, and the cars raced out of the property.
I stood there watching the gleams of lights from their cars disappearing into the night along the driveway with a satisfied smirk.
"That poor soul."
The knife wasn't poisoned.