For The Famiglia: Arranged Devotion (Complete)

Do you like Calzones?

I was tempted to wear sweat pants and a thick hooded jumper but I was already in enough trouble. I had spoken out of turn and now put my father and my beloved New Orleans in jeopardy if I didn’t follow through so I let my aunt and sister dress me. It wasn’t me but I suppose the aim was to make me look older however even with the makeup, hair down in curls, heels that could have broken my neck, the dress though I did actually like maroon in colour flaring at the bottom just above the knee it was quite beautiful “You look stunning” my older sister had complimented before we left as she held a smile, I, however, could tell it was fake. No one was pleased about this whole mess and I wished I had kept my flapping mouth shut though how was I to know Enzio would want a smart mouth for a wife for his son. It wasn’t something sought after in our world one of the reasons father thought I would be safe from all this but here we were in the streets of New York going to meet the most feared crime family in the country perhaps that part should have unnerved me but it wasn’t, it was the fact that I was sixteen years old and about to watch my future flush down the drain.

The restaurant was quite beautiful however something that I could at least admire as we met with Montrel who had a big s**t-eating grin on his face. I had never been a fan of his and he was even less a fan of mine but I think a full-fledged disdain of him now definitely won. He greeted us. It was only a small meeting just my father, myself, Montrel to represent New Orleans and the Damiani family. Montrel shook fathers hand before turning to me, dark eyes appraising me as though I was the cash cow “you look beautiful, Catarina” the only thing his embellished compliments did was make me want to throw up “come, come Enzio and Marco are here.”

“Where is Santos?” my father asked in a hushed tone as Montrel hurried us through the deserted restaurant. Which made it quite obvious it was mob-owned, just another one of their commodities they had acquired no doubt.

“Enzio said he had business” the way he said business almost made me shiver. Just imagining that giant beast loses in the city. We fell silent as we approached the table Enzio held that big smile like when I first met him, Marco and Santos however hadn’t been at the wedding so I didn’t know what they looked like until now however it had been hard to imagine what his sons would look like but seeing Marco I wasn't expecting that from the chubby middle-aged man Marco pretty much looked like a muscular version of his father if Enzio was thinner, Taller and had a thick head of hair it would pretty much be Marco but he didn’t smile he simply greeted me with a solemn nod it was though he knew the unfortunate future of my fate.

“Good to see you” Enzio greeted father with a handshake, I could see my father tense as Enzio kept his meaty hand wrapped around my fathers as though sending a subliminal message in the action before turning to me with that smile “ah the young miss Rossi a pleasure to see you again” he clasped my hand in his and pressed it to his lips it was a struggle to hold a polite smile though.

“You too mister Damiani” I was determined to be civil in the whole matter. He liked me for my attitude perhaps if I showed him another side perhaps he would lose interest however as soon as I said that his eyes narrowed, obviously unconvinced.

“Sit down” he insisted and the three of us sat onto the wooden seats opposite Enzio and his son “my son Santos will be here soon” I was quick to look away because I could feel his eyes boring into my flesh.

“You wanted to talk?” Montrel spoke as soon as he was seated, he let himself sit leisurely in the seat trying to hide his worry but it was too hard of an attempt to hide it if you ask me.

“We will, we will when my Santos gets here. Until then do you want anything? Their calzones” he kissed at the tips of his fingers in an appreciative gesture “the best in the city.”

“I prefer we just get started” my father spoke he was trying not to grumble.

“What's the rush huh?” Enzio practically exclaimed while Marco narrowed his eyes.

“No rush, no rush, of course, Enzio. Arnaldo just wants to get back to business is all he's a very focused man” Montrel attempted to smooth things over but Enzio scoffed.

“Work? It can wait. This is a family matter” there it was ‘a family matter’ tying us by his words already left me unsettled but I tried to keep myself from stirring in the seat. It was quiet for a moment and I attempted to keep my head down until Enzio began to speak a smirk spread across his chubby face “what they say about your daughter is true” he suddenly commented. My father was practically seething beside me but I couldn’t help but stare at the man wide-eyed.

“What is that supposed to mean?” my father spoke through gritted teeth I could see the bone of his jaw pulsing under the skin.

“That she’s a stunning beauty of course” he chuckled, he was teasing of course we all knew word was around that I was boisterous, I wasn’t aware of any words about my looks “I only want the best for my boys” Enzio gave a pat to Marco’s large shoulder “ah speaking of my boys here he is. Santos” he called out as the front door opened. I had never seen Santos Damiani before and what stood before me wasn't what I was expecting. He didn’t look as much like his father despite the same cool mint eyes, he was tanner, taller, broader even than his older brother it was easy to understand why he was so intimidating but at the same time there was a softness to his face perhaps it was the pouty lips and full lush lashes, either way, I couldn’t help my continuing analyse of him. Santos Damiani, the beast of New York and now my soon to be fiancé?