Chapter 6

Jackson gave me a patronizing smile. “Liam might control New York, but here in Chicago, your father is the boss.”

“You respect Liam,” I said, shocked. “You watched him cut off Raffaele’s finger, and you still respect him.”

“Your cousin is lucky Liam didn’t cut off more. He did what any man in our world would have done.”

Maybe that was true for men like them.

Jackson patted my head like I was a child. “Go to sleep.”

“Will you stand guard at my door all night to make sure I don’t try to sneak out?” I challenged.

“Get used to it. Now that Liam’s put a ring on your finger, he’ll make sure you’re watched at all times.”

I slammed the door shut. Watched. Even when Liam wasn’t around, he would control my life. I thought things would stay the same until the wedding, but how could they when everyone knew what the ring on my finger meant? Raffaele’s finger was a warning. Liam had made his claim, and he would enforce it without mercy.

I left the lights on that night, afraid the darkness would bring back images of blood and severed fingers. But the images came anyway.

The next morning, I could see my breath clouding in the cold air. Even my thick coat couldn’t protect me from Chicago’s harsh winter. Snow crunched beneath my boots as I followed Mum along the pavement toward a brick building. It housed the most expensive bridal shop in the Midwest. Jackson was close behind me, like a shadow. Another one of Father’s guards followed behind my sisters.

The brass revolving doors led us into the bright interior, where the owner and her two assistants greeted us immediately. “Happy birthday, Ms. Russo,” the owner said in her soft voice.

I forced a smile. My twenty third birthday was supposed to be a happy day, but instead, it was just another step closer to marrying Liam. I hadn’t seen him since that night when he cut off Raffaele’s finger. He sent me expensive jewelry for birthdays, holidays, and the anniversary of our engagement, but that was all the contact we had in the past five months. I saw photos of him with other women online, but even that would stop today when our engagement became public. At least he wouldn’t flaunt his mistresses in front of everyone anymore.

I didn’t fool myself into believing he’d stop seeing them. I didn’t care as long as it kept him away from me.

“Only five months until the wedding, right?” the shop owner said with bright eyes. She was the only one excited, probably because today’s sale would make her a lot of money. The wedding that would unite the New York and Chicago mafia would be a grand event. Money wasn’t a concern.

I nodded. Only 150 days left until I exchanged one prison for another. Rina looked at me, her eyes filled with understanding, but she said nothing. At twenty one, she’d finally learned to control her outbursts.

The shop owner led us to the fitting room while Jackson and the other guard stood outside the drawn curtains. Amelia and Rina sank into the plush couch as Mother browsed the gowns on display. I stood there, feeling suffocated by all the white silk and lace. The fitting room’s walls were covered with quotes about love that felt mocking, given my reality. Love was nothing more than a foolish wish.

The shop owner and her assistants watched me closely, so I straightened my back and joined my mother. No one could know I wasn’t the joyful bride-to-be but a pawn in a power game. The owner eventually approached us with her most expensive dress.

“What kind of dress do you think your future husband would prefer?” she asked in a pleasant tone.

“The kind that doesn’t exist,” Rina muttered, earning a sharp look from Mother. I blushed, but the owner chuckled as if it was all just charming.

“There’s time for that on the wedding night,” she said with a wink. I reached for a dress covered in brocade, embroidered with pearls and silvery threads forming intricate flowers.

“Those threads are platinum,” the owner explained, which explained the high price. “Your groom will love it.”

She knew him better than I did. The wedding would take place in the grand gardens of the Abelli estate in the Hamptons. Preparations were already in full swing. I hadn’t set foot on the estate yet, but Mother kept me updated, even though I never asked.

When we arrived in New York that morning, my sisters and I huddled in our suite at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel. Ricardo Abelli had offered us rooms at the estate, but Father had refused. Five months of cooperation, and there was still no trust between them. I was glad. I didn’t want to see that place until I had to.

Father allowed me to share a suite with Amelia and Rina, while he and Mother had their own. Of course, guards were stationed at all three doors.

“Do we really have to go to the Amelia sat on the sofa with her bare legs swinging over the backrest. Mum always said that the writer must have imagined a girl like Amelia when he wrote "Maria Lia" .While Rina liked to provoke with her sharp words, Amelia used her looks. She had turned nineteen last April, still a teenager using her newly formed curves to get a reaction from everyone around us. She looked like the model Kendall Johnson,but her hair was lighter, and she didn’t have the gap between her front teeth.