Touched by the Mobster

Chapter III – Diana Fontenele

As I entered my room, I stayed there for hours. This situation couldn’t go on any longer. He insisted until he calmed down.

“Alright, Diana! We're off to a good start. Tomorrow morning, wake up and prepare breakfast. Start doing the duties a woman should do in a house!” he said after tapping twice on the door. What could I do? Where could I run to? I stayed in my room, rummaging through my things, putting everything into travel bags. I didn’t care what my mother left me; I would claim my inheritance this week.

My life is more important! When I heard the knock on the living room door, signaling that he had left, I went to the bathroom, took a shower, and gathered only the most important things from my room. As I passed the living room, I grabbed my mother’s photo and ran. It wasn’t my case anymore. At eighteen, I was just leaving. I thought of going to my best friend’s house, who had always been my most loyal friend.

I walked a kilometer in the middle of the night. The cold winds whistled in my ears, but living with someone I didn’t know was a thousand times worse. I would rather walk in the cold.

“Hi, how are you?” I smiled as I saw the door of Paola’s room, where Mrs. Amanda lived. After the divorce, they didn’t have much left. The door was shut after the greeting, but then it opened again.

“What do you want with my daughter?” Mrs. Amanda asked, wearing a blue linen dress and thick brown-rimmed glasses. What year does she live in? Only grandmothers wear glasses like that.

“I need Paola’s help, Mrs. Amanda, please help me!” I pleaded, being as polite as I could. In fact, I could flatter her if she wanted.

“She’s not here. She went out with a school friend. She said they’re working on a project and don’t have a set time to return.” I stepped back. What project was this? I wasn’t aware of any project, nor was I aware of any boy she was seeing now. It’s impossible that Paola lost her virginity before me.

“Can I wait for her?” I asked, holding the door so it wouldn’t be closed again. Without much grace, she nodded.

“Okay, fine.” She smiled, and I did my best to be angelic. Hours passed. I stood by the window of her tiny room. I wouldn’t mind sleeping on the floor until I found a job. Then I saw Paola arrive, smiling, holding hands with someone — my ex-boyfriend, Paulo. I adjusted myself by the window. Was he asking for advice on how to win me back? But walking hand in hand, no one would be asking for advice about another person.

They stopped, and just like they had done with me a few times, he took the initiative and kissed her mouth. But this time, he kissed her with a hunger that was only lacking in swallowing her whole. My blood froze in my veins, and cold ran through my body. Was it possible that Paola didn’t see that he was using her? I asked myself, watching my best friend kiss my ex-boyfriend. Tears welled up. I wanted to climb out that window and scratch both of their faces, but I swallowed all my desire. This time, I needed more. I wouldn’t stay under the roof with my uncle any longer, so it was better to ignore all of that.

I waited for Paola to come up, and when she opened the door, I gave my best smile. She smiled, raising an eyebrow when she saw me.

“Hi!” I got up from her bed, pretending not to have seen anything, except for the messy red hair, swollen lips, and a bunch of hickeys on her neck beneath her scarf. Her clothes were wrinkled, but she was normal.

“Di, what are you doing here? My mom said you’ve been waiting for hours with all your bags.” I smiled faintly, nodding, seeing how much I missed my mom.

“Friend, I need your help. Some things happened at my house and...” She sat beside me, holding my hands. “What happened?”

I sighed, and the tears came. “I can’t live with Uncle Thales anymore...” Could I tell her? She was just downstairs kissing the boy I liked my entire adolescence.

“What do you mean Thales, your uncle?” she asked, deducing things. I sighed.

“You know my uncle is addicted to gambling, he drinks a lot, and... today he got aggressive after...” I paused, the tears already betraying me, and I stuttered at the end. She had been downstairs with my ex-boyfriend not long ago.

“And what do you need from me?” she asked. I got up and walked around her tiny room, almost the size of my bathroom.

“A week, until I figure things out. I’ll get a job. I’ll look for a place for myself. I just need to finish my school simulations, and when I pass, I swear I...”

She squeezed my hands. I didn’t know whether to look at the hickeys on her neck or into her eyes. Would I be like that if I gave myself to Paulo? How was it? I’d always been a good student in biology, and I admit I know what it is and how it happens, theoretically. But the teacher never talked about hickeys, messy hair, or the smile Paola had on her face.

“Friend, of course I can help you. Look at where I live. Look at you, you’re a Fontenele.” I swallowed hard. Besides being betrayed, would she really be a true friend?

We stayed in her room, and from there I imagined what had happened and what would happen. In my current situation, I prefer to lose a passion than a friendship. Paola was all I had left. I placed my bags in the corner and thought about her scene with Paulo. Had he been gentle with her? It hurt a little inside, but he should’ve been kind to her. He always was with me, and despite everything, I never managed to give myself to him.

I sighed, swallowing the urge to cry, though the tears fell on my pillow. I wiped my tears. Now I had bigger problems. A crazy stepfather addicted to gambling and no money in my pocket. He had a good reputation in the neighborhood, he was a great husband who took care of my mom and a wonderful stepfather.

Paola looked at me, intrigued. I smiled weakly. I just wanted to forget about that night and move forward. I cried until I fell asleep. Paola fell asleep quickly. I didn’t want to imagine why, but at least when I slept, I felt safe, even though I was afraid of what might happen soon — the next day, when he came back and couldn’t find me.

In the morning, I woke up and stayed lying there, thinking about everything I could do with my life after a turbulent night and morning. Paola was no longer in the room when I adjusted myself. She came in with an unfriendly look, closing the door behind her.

“Friend, what happened between you and your uncle?” I sat on the bed, needing to tell someone. I sighed.

“He was super aggressive. He slapped my face. He...”— The door was kicked open. I saw that man I had called uncle my whole life, always kind, always friendly.

“Running away, Diana?” He grabbed my arm. I wanted to run, but I was just caught by the arm. Paola reacted and defended me, but he shoved her against the wall, and she fell unconscious. I don’t know how, but then he dragged me by the arm, screaming as he pulled me into the car. She and her mother didn’t intervene.

For a young girl until she turned eighteen, Uncle Thales had been a wonderful man. He was always attentive, even fighting with my mother when he punished me. I loved him and always kissed him on the cheek when I caught him off guard doing something. He raised me in place of my father, and to me, it was a love between uncle and niece since there was never a man to take my father’s place. Not that I didn’t want that, but my father’s place had always been empty. So to me, he would always be Uncle Thales, my uncle, dragging me out while I wanted to go back to see my friend. I didn’t recognize the man holding me now. His face was covered in bruises, but the marks didn’t come from a fight he had suffered.

“What mess did you get yourself into, Uncle Thales?” I asked when I saw him in that state. “You dragged me all the way home, I was scared, but at the same time, I was worried.”

“I need money, Diana. We have to sell the house, the car. I owe a lot of money to dangerous people. We have to sell everything, or I don’t know what they’ll do to me, and to you!” He looked at me, covering his mouth with his hand. The problem was much bigger now.

He was desperate, battered. They had beaten him badly.

“How much, uncle?” I asked, anxious.

“A lot, a lot of money. Maybe we can try for a loan, but I don’t have the means for it. You’ll have to try.”