The Mafia's Forgotten Vows

Giuliana "This is really hell." I whispered to myself. Hoping that nobody would hear. Just then, my grandmother walked in and so I started with a full rant of how I felt that exact moment. "Nonna, I woke up this morning wanting to run away. If I had known that I would be in this hell-hole, I should have ran away a month earlier, while I still can. But no, fate has a problem with me. That's why she wanted to punish me! She's mocking me from the moment I was born, no, wait, I think it was from the moment my stupid brother was born! Yes, that's it, Nonna. This is really killing me! Aaargh!". I sighed with all the pent up frustration I have inside and just then, Rosita Lerona, my maternal grandmother looked at me with sad eyes. A fake smile was automatically plastered to my face to reassure her that eventhough I was ranting all my might, I would be more resilient now that the time had come. "Are you a-certain that you want to go through with this?" Her Italian accent was prominent whenever she speaks English. The vowels seemed round and musical and the final word stretching into thees. I smiled and nodded. "I don't have a choice! As my amazing father said. . . 'Know your place, Giuliana. You can only be someone's woman and never the heir of the Vitale empire.'" My loud laughter that echoed inside the waiting room was enough to fool anyone that I am amused, no, but not my Nonna Rosita. She approached and gave me a tight hug as far as my stupid gown would allow. Just then, we heard a loud knock at the wooden door with brass handles. "Come in." The words escaped my mouth even though I wanted to say, Get out and leave me alone. "It's time." Two words that made my stomach churn and twist into knots. The smirk from Don Vittorio Vitale's lips could make anyone shiver with fear, but not to someone who has been used to seeing that all her life. My Nonna Rosita and I let go of each other so I could stand up and face my doom. The lacy white gown looked like an array of tulle and glitter. Puffy sleeves looked like balloons and the feathers sprouting from my chest area would be enough to confuse my wardrobe choice into a costume. The colorful rhinestone-crusted tiara, the mile-long train embroidered with more glittering sequins felt heavy now that I tried walking towards the father who would walk me down the aisle. When I hooked my gloved hand to his arm, I saw his steely and annoyed gaze. I wanted to roll my eyes, but I knew better. Then he said something that made me smirk involuntarily, "If I had known you would have that stupid gown, I should have made you wear a simple white dress instead. This is a wedding, Giuliana! Not a masquerade ball!" I knew from the way he scrutinized me from head to toe what he really wanted to say, 'Your gown is suited for a costume party, not a wedding.' Well, this is just the reaction I've been aiming for. Giuliana, one, Vittorio, zero. "Hush, hush, I'll leave you two. Don't argue and walk gracefully. You only get to do this once." Nonna Rosita said before she went out of the room. Just then, I heard a dreadful sound, the wedding march. The long Cathedral hallway looked romantic as it was filled with red flowers of different kinds. The bride should have been delighted, but not me. How could I even be excited when I was literally forced, no, dragged to do this loveless marriage to a person I don't even know! I wanted to kick out all the rose petals that spread out like a red carpet. I wanted to throw a tantrum and stomp my red stilletos to prove my point that I do not want to do this wedding. "Giuliana, I'm warning you. Don't do anything stupid." My father's voice was cold and harsh and all I could do in response was focus on the man waiting in front of the altar. When the dreadful wedding march turned into a melodious love song, he turned around gently. I stopped in my tracks. But then, my father pulled me forward and I almost tripped if he hadn't steadied me. It might be an exaggeration to describe that moment when time stood still, but for me, it really did. The person standing in front of the altar, waiting for me, was the last person I ever expected to see—let alone be marrying. Lorenzo Tirelessly, for the past two years, I rebuilt my family's Mafia empire in order to be worthy of this moment. Now, finally, I am. A month ago, I played my cards right and struck a deal that would either make or break me, but I couldn't care less. I saw her again, and I wanted her still. "Boss, we've checked all the surrounding areas of the Cathedral. In and out. Everything is secured." Servano, my right hand man assured me of the venue's safety. It is important that the ceremony goes on as peacefully as possible. I don't want a bloodbath on my own wedding. "Va bene." I said as I acknowledged the intel. I fixed my silver tie and checked my hair in the mirror the stylist was holding. I had been waiting for more than an hour. My group and I arrived early to secure the place. Some of the Vitale men arrived early, but I personally wanted to oversee the security. After all, two of the most notable and powerful Mafia clans were merging at this place and time. "Boss, it's time. The bride is already inside the waiting chamber." Servano and the stylist employed by Greco Group stood up to lead the way. The wedding march played, and I walked towards the altar where I would soon be joined by the bride who still didn't know who she is marrying. I breathed in and exhaled slowly to steady my nerves. I could put a bullet in someone’s skull without a second thought, but now it felt like every nerve ending in my body was on high alert. When I reached the altar, I looked at the holy figures before me and pictured myself hanging on the cross the moment she realized I was the one she would be marrying. The romantic wedding song began and I couldn't keep myself from turning and witnessing her entrance. Our eyes met, and at that moment, all I could see was the shock registered on her angelic face. Her almost bare makeup contrasted sharply with her outrageous wedding gown. If anyone else wore that preposterous ball of lace and sequins, they would look ridiculous—but with Giuliana, my Gia, it looked as if she were draped in a glittering cloud of chaos. It seemed she had her own spotlight. For others she may look silly, but for me, she looked divine. But then, she stopped walking, the air felt heavy and my breath caught in my throat.