Blood In Her Lace

Valentina Rossi had always known this day would come. Growing up in the Rossi mansion in San Francisco's Pacific Heights, she'd watched other mafia daughters get married off to strengthen alliances, secure territories, or pay debts. She just never thought it would happen to her. Her father, Don Enzo Rossi, controlled half the shipping that came through the Bay Area. Drugs, weapons, people — if it was illegal and profitable, it probably went through one of his warehouses at some point. He'd built his empire from nothing, starting as a street kid in Little Italy and clawing his way to the top through a combination of brutal violence and smart business decisions. For twenty-two years, he'd kept her sheltered from the worst of it. Private schools, charity galas, art classes. She spoke three languages, had a degree in literature, and could discuss wine pairings at dinner parties with politicians and judges who were definitely on her father's payroll. But underneath all that culture and refinement, she'd always known the truth. She was Don Enzo Rossi's daughter, which meant she was an asset. A very valuable one. Today was supposed to be her wedding day. A wedding she never wanted, to a man she barely knew, because apparently her opinion didn't matter in any of this. The dress was gorgeous, she had to admit. Pure silk with hundreds of tiny pearls sewn on by hand. It probably cost more money than most people have seen in their entire lives. Right now though, Valentina would've loved nothing more than to burn the damn thing. She felt like burning everything, actually. "Stop moving around," her mother Patricia snapped from across the room. "You're going to wrinkle it." Valentina stared at herself in the mirror. The girl looking back didn't even look like her anymore. Perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect dress. She looked like some expensive doll sitting in a shop window. "I can't do this," she whispered. Her mother's face didn't change. "Yes, you can. And you will. This marriage is important for our family, Valentina. Stop being so selfish." Selfish. Right. Because not wanting to marry a creepy old man was being selfish. Alfred Donati was fifty-two years old and dealt in things that definitely weren't legal. He smelled like expensive cologne mixed with cheap cigars, and every time he looked at her, she felt like a piece of meat he was thinking about buying. The marriage had been arranged six months ago, after a particularly bloody territorial dispute with the Morettis - another Italian family trying to muscle in on her father's business. Alfred controlled shipping routes through Los Angeles and had connections with suppliers in Mexico that her father desperately needed. The wedding was supposed to unite their operations and create an empire that stretched the entire West Coast. But he was rich and powerful, and he wanted to work with her father's business. In their world, that made him perfect husband material. The fact that he made her skin crawl was just an added bonus, apparently. "The cars are here," her brother Alex said from the doorway. He looked sad, which made her feel even worse. Her mom stood up, smoothing her own dress. "Time to go." Valentina picked up her bouquet with shaking hands. White roses and baby's breath. For one crazy second, she thought about just running. Right now. Just bolt out the door and never look back. But where would she go? Her father controlled all her money, all her accounts. Her friends wouldn't help her - they were too scared of what Don Enzo Rossi might do to them. "Valentina." Her father's deep voice made her jump. He stood in the doorway wearing an expensive tuxedo, looking like the proud dad he was supposed to be. Too bad it was all an act. "Hi, Papa," she managed to say. He walked over and took her hands. Up close, she could see how tired he looked. Once upon a time, she thought he was the strongest man in the world. Her hero. Her protector. Now she knew he was just selling her off like everything else in his life. "You look beautiful, sweetheart," he said softly. "Do I have a choice?" she mumbled. He almost smiled. "You always were too smart for your own good. Just like your mother." Then his face got serious again. "Alfred is a good match. This marriage will make our family stronger." Our family. Not her happiness. Not her life. Just business. "What did you promise him?" she asked. His eyes went hard. "You don't ask questions like that. Not today. Not ever." She knew that tone. It meant shut up or else. He straightened his tie — something he always did when he was about to do something he didn't really want to do. "Remember who you are. You're a Rossi. That name means something. " He kissed her forehead. "After today, you'll be a Donati. But you'll always be my daughter. " It should have made her feel better. Instead, it felt like goodbye. --- The drive to the church felt like a nightmare. Valentina sat in the back of the Rolls-Royce, trying not to think about what came after the wedding. The wedding night. Being married to Alfred. The rest of her life. The Cathedral of Saint Mary was packed. Everyone was there — rich people, politicians, judges, and the kind of men her father called "business associates." The kind who carried guns and had very creative ways of solving problems. This wasn't just a wedding — it was a display of power. A message to every other family in California that the Rossi's were now untouchable. Three hundred guests, she'd been told. Each one carefully chosen. The mayor was there, along with half the city council. Federal judges who'd been in her father's pocket for years. CEOs of legitimate businesses that laundered money through their books. And, of course, representatives from every major crime family on the West Coast — some allies, some enemies were forced to attend out of respect for her father's power. The cathedral itself had been transformed. White roses and gold ribbons everywhere, a full orchestra, enough security to protect the head of state. The whole thing had cost more than most people's houses, but money was never an issue when it came to making the right impression. As they pulled up, she could see photographers and reporters everywhere. Even her wedding was a show for everyone else. Alex touched her shoulder as they got out. "You could still run," he whispered. "I'd help you." She stared at him. "What?" "Come on, Val. We both know you don't want this. You look terrible. If you want to disappear, I've got your back. " For a second, she actually considered it. But where would they go? "I'll be okay," she lied. They both knew she was lying. --- Alfred was waiting at the altar, smiling that fake politician smile he always wore. She'd only met him four times before today, and each time had been worse than the last. The priest started talking in Latin. All those ancient words about love and commitment and forever. It would have been beautiful if any of it was real. "Do you, Alfred Donati, take Valentina..." Alfred's answers were confident, like he was closing a business deal. Which, she supposed, he was. "Do you, Valentina Rossi, take Alfred Donati..." She opened her mouth to say yes, but the words wouldn't come out. She looked around at all the faces staring at her. Her father looking stern. Her mother with that fake smile. Alex looking sorry for her. And in the back, a pair of eyes that looked familiar somehow. "Valentina," the priest said again. "Do you take Alfred as your husband?" "I-" BANG. The gunshot was so loud it made her ears ring. Then another one. Alfred's eyes went wide with shock, then nothing. He fell next to the altar, blood spreading everywhere, getting on her white dress. People started screaming. Everyone was diving under pews or pulling out guns. Her father was yelling orders in Italian. But Valentina couldn't move. She just stared at Alfred lying there in a pool of blood. Then something clicked in her brain. This was it. This was her chance. She got up and ran. Security tried to grab her, but she twisted away and kept running toward the back door of the cathedral. One of her shoes fell off, but she didn't care. For the first time in months, she felt something like hope. She burst through the door and down the stone steps. Her bare feet hit the cold pavement, and she hiked up her heavy dress so she could move faster. Alfred's blood was still on the silk, but she didn't care about that either. This was freedom. This was her chance to finally run. But then she saw the car. Black sedan, windows so dark you couldn't see inside, just sitting there at the curb like it was waiting for her. Every instinct she had started screaming danger, but her feet seemed frozen to the spot. Three men got out of the car. They all wore expensive black suits and masks that covered most of their faces. Two of them were huge - like bodybuilders or bouncers. But it was the third guy who really scared her. He wasn't as big as the others, but something about the way he moved made her think of a snake getting ready to strike. He had muscles, but the lean kind that came from years of training, not just lifting weights. And his eyes. Gray eyes that looked at her like she was already his. "Going somewhere, princess?" His voice was smooth, educated. Almost polite. Valentina stepped backwards, her bare foot slipping on the wet street. "I don't know who you are-" "You're about to find out." He nodded at the two big guys, and they moved toward her like they'd done this a hundred times before. She tried to run, but the stupid wedding dress wrapped around her legs. Before she could get more than a few steps, they had her. "Let me go!" She fought as hard as she could, but it was like trying to fight two brick walls. "Help! Somebody help me!" But the street was completely empty. Even the photographers from earlier were gone. How was that possible? "No one's coming," Gray Eyes said, walking toward her with that same calm confidence. "They're all a little busy with the excitement inside." "What do you want?" She was trying not to panic, but her voice came out high and scared anyway. "I want you to stop fighting," he said, pulling something out of his jacket. "This'll go much easier if you cooperate." It was a syringe. A big one. "No!" She fought harder, adrenaline making her stronger than she'd ever been. "Please, don't-" But the two men holding her arms were too strong. Gray Eyes came closer, patient as death. "Shh," he said, almost like he was comforting a scared child. "Just a little stick. Won't hurt a bit." The needle went into her arm right through the silk. Fire shot through her veins and the world started spinning. Her legs turned to jelly. "There we go," his voice sounded like it was coming from underwater now. "Just let it happen." Her knees gave out, but they caught her before she hit the ground. Through the fog filling her head, she heard him giving orders to the other men. "Careful with her. She's worth a lot of money." Money. Not a person. Not even a prisoner. Just something valuable to be sold. Just like her father had been trying to do. The last thing she managed to whisper before the darkness swallowed her whole was a promise that surprised even her. "I'm going to destroy you for this." Gray Eyes chuckled, but there was something in his voice that sounded almost... impressed. "I'm counting on it, princess."