Capítulo 9: Chapter Eight
Arielle
We head to Leon Mansion, this is known to be the Mansion of the Chicago mafia crime family. New York has Verona Mansion—Chicago has Leon Mansion. Angelo parks in the huge parking lot then we walked all the way inside. There are palm trees on both side of the entrance then some steps further there is a statue of Adonis sitting in the middle of the fountain. He is wearing a loincloth which is covering his private part. He is captivating.
"If my eyesight is not wrong, you are a lookalike of Adonis." I tell Angelo which leads him to smile.
"Do you mean I am handsome as this half naked statue?" Adonis gestures to the statue.
"Yes. I am talking about his face." I say with a shrug, "I don't know about the body parts."
If it wasn't the statue, Leon mansion is breathtaking from the exterior. I wonder how would the interior be if this is the exterior.
We proceed inside, we are greeted by the soldiers afterwards we walk inside. This place is complete new to me. The interior is made with Italian furniture then my eyes lands on the eye catching chandelier which is shining with the sun rays penetrating from the windows—I wonder if these are real diamonds attached on it.
A moment later a guy walks in he looks like Antonio then I realise he is Rocco. "Welcome." He smiles at us. He reaches for Angelo while pulling him into a hug. They seem to be old buddies— but they aren't.
Rocco steps near me and places a kiss on my cheek. "Arielle. It's a pleasure meeting you." He pulls away. "Have a seat." He gestures at the couch and I nod.
"Is Antonio here?" I ask with a small tone.
Rocco half smiles then nods his head in response. "He is taking a shower...would you like to meet him? I mean if its urgent you can go and meet him. He wouldn't mind." Rocco says in a sarcastic manner which leads Angelo to laugh.
I shot my brother with a death glare and he tries to seal his lips but cannot.
"I can wait for him. There's nothing urgent." I utter then roll my eyes to Angelo who is grinning at me. Rocco chuckles when he sees Angelo's grin.
These guys are ridiculous. I shake my head with bloating cheeks. I sit there and admire the ceramic tiles. Meanwhile Angelo and Rocco talks about business. Angelo is not paying attention when Rocco talks about New York city. My brother was never interested with the mafia life he does his duty under father's assertiveness.
"Arielle. Are you ready to be a member of our family?" Rocco asks me.
A moment of silence lays between us. "Do I have a choice."
"It happened within a blink, losing my father, now you and my brother." Rocco presses his lips in a straight line.
The death of their father is dejected for them. I know how much it must be hurting them. Mine is alive and it hurts—my situation is different. They won't see their father again. Antonio is hiding his pain. He would not show anyone because showing grieves to the Outfit is the sign of weakness. Antonio needs to be brave—I don't know how is he hiding everything inside.
"Sorry for your loss." I find myself telling him with a sympathetic voice.
"Hope I haven't made you wait too long." A familiar voice utters. Tilting my head to the side I spot Antonio standing behind the couch I am sitting on.
He is wearing a black suit with a white shirt. He does not look tired at all. His beards look darker on his fair skin. How can someone be so dashing. Antonio appears to be a model from a magazine.
"Hello." I whispers and I cannot deny the sudden speed of my heartbeat. I shift nervously and adjust my body on the couch.
"Your father hasn't come?" Antonio asks.
"We don't know. I haven't talked to him since we landed in Chicago." Angelo responses with a cold tone.
"He is a weird man—I am not offending." While shrugging Antonio takes some steps and sit on the couch beside me.
I let out a laugh, "he is the weirdest person I've known my entire life."
I hear Angelo laughing and my lips curves into a smirk. Antonio gazes at me with small judgy eyes. I stare back at him and the smile on my face disappears. He has a curious coolness on his face.
Angelo clears his throat, I drag my attention back to my brother with knitted brows. I notice that Rocco has a smirk on his face. Damn.
"The devil of our life. I never thought our father would sold Arielle to the Giordanos." My brother says coldly.
My face goes pale and the smile disappeared from my face and I feel like crying because now I will be staying in Chicago. There is no going back.
A sudden tachycardia runs through me and my eyes flash to Antonio, I find a glimmer on his eyes as he was already starring me. He watches me like a lion aiming for its prey and it scares me from the core. I wonder what it would like to be the wife of the Capo. Will he be protective or cruel?
What if he will scare the shit out of me for all the time. I pray he will be a chivalrous person and does not force me into things I don't like. I don't want him to torture me while pointing a gun near my forehead and makes me plead in front of his eyes. Does he think love is weakness too? Will he try of settling down and have a family—a place where he will call his. Deep down I feel like he will be a perfect man as a husband but my brain does not narrate the same thing. My mind says he will be the vicious king who will control my life within the snap of his fingers.
I wish my thoughts turns out beyond my deepest imagination.
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