Bab 2: Double Life
Four years later.
- VANESSA -
Black crop top, black jeans, black boots. Check. I shove them all into my bag and glance at the clock. I'm running late. Hopefully Mom doesn't stop me on the way out the door and interrogate me tonight.
I rush down the steps, wondering if I can make it past the ornate tiled floors, marble statues, and iron gate without being noticed. It's Thursday, so there aren't too many of my dad's men here and he's likely in his office, so I doubt I need to worry about running into him.
But Mom has been particularly attentive lately. I'm starting to wonder if she knows what's going on and just hasn't called me out yet. I almost wish that were the case—that this secret double life was known and accepted by at least one member of my family.
That's never going to happen, though. It's wishful thinking. I live in a fortress. I have my own assigned guards. I'm still living at home at twenty-one, because my parents don't think it's safe enough for me to be on my own.
Such is the life of a mafia princess.
That's what my best friend Mia calls me, and I hate it. But I love my family, and she's right. That's exactly how they view me. I'm their sweet, innocent little princess.
It's like I'm still a child within these walls, which is why I need this double life. It's the only way I'll ever be able to feel like a normal, grown woman rather than the doll frozen in time that everyone in my family would prefer I be.
I don't want to disappoint them, though. Or worry them. Dad and Luciano have far too much to worry about running the family without adding a rebellious daughter and sister to the mix.
Rather than tip-toeing like I'm trying to sneak out, I walk confidently across the foyer and reach for the iron gate that gives way to our double front doors. If I act like I'm expected to leave, then no one should question it. Right?
"Vanessa?" Mom calls from the kitchen, and I restrain a groan. How does she know? I literally made no noise and she's three whole rooms away.
"Yes Mamma?" I call back sweetly.
"Where are you going?" She asks, wiping her hands on a towel as she makes her way to me. "Mia's again?"
"Yeah. It's Thursday. It's become kind of a ritual," I smile and shrug, grateful for the dimples that I know are helping my whole innocent look right now.
"Volunteering at the shelter again?" She stops in front of me, and I'm struck once again by how beautiful my mother is. She has that classic Italian beauty that makes people stop and stare. Even middle-aged, Mamma is breathtaking. I hope I age that gracefully.
Everyone says I look just like her, but I don't see it. I have such a baby face. That probably also contributes to why I'm treated like a child. If I looked like the graceful, mature woman she is, then I would probably be trusted with more freedom.
"Yeah. Volunteering at the shelter is fun," I lie. I'm such a horrible person. "It makes me feel more useful than staying here all the time. "
"I think it's wonderful," she smiles. "Oh, can you wait just a second? Margaret and I went through some of our family's old things to donate."
"Of course." I paint on a smile and save the grimace until she turns around to retrieve them from somewhere in the sitting room. Ugh, I'm going to be so late.
"Here, this should help the women at the shelter a little until we have time to go through more."
She hands me a cardboard box filled with donations. "This is great, Mamma. Thank you."
"Of course." She smiles and then looks over my shoulder like she's hoping someone will appear.
"I don't need anyone tonight, Ma. Mia's guards will be watching us. It doesn't make sense to have double the men. Plus, it gets crowded."
"Are you sure?" Her forehead creases in worry.
"Yes. Positive." I lean to kiss her cheek and then hurry through the gate before she can think to question it. "Love you!"
"Love you!" She calls back.
Once I'm through the doors, I can taste freedom. It's exhilarating. It's not official until I'm in my car, speeding around the drive, though. That's when I know I've made it.
Hadiah
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