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marrying a mo
ly one who
renzo, a powerful Mafia Capo. I thought hi
Lorenzo moved his pregnant mistress, C
in her womb was the orphane
r mother a service," the Syndicate wives
ry cuts and subjected her to endless psychologica
re the exact same distinct bi
a convenient shield for his illicit affair, stealing my
ed a thief to siphon funds under the guise of caring for
I was back to the day
grabbed the torn marriage petition a
ly guarded gates of Don Salvatore, the
pte
nna
ol
marrying a mo
mistress will sleep in my mother's bed, and how, year by year, he will steal everyt
e, kneeling on freezing stones in fr
lt before the Syndicate gates, a torn marriage petition clutched in my six-ye
op my mother from marrying Capo Lorenzo tomorrow, his pregnant mistress
t. I didn't know if that was true, but I hoped he was hungry. Before him, even the most defiant Capos
was a ruthless executioner who demanded undeniable proo
sture and the weight of his power were
light catching the frost on the collars of their mink c
their gaze was a disgust so p
rms, the motion ti
, her words like chipped porcelain. "A Capo of Lorenzo's statu
stomach, a cold and sickening dread.
se sequence of events
rranged marriage, Camilla
to endless psychological torture while Lorenzo had simply turned a blind
to let history
black silk dress for the coming mob wedding
were far too short for the task
me from my thoughts as a sleek, a
oaned open, and Lo
hand holding his cigar were the color of dead fish. A practiced mask of compassion
d, he sighed softly and reached dow
ay with a force that
age petition directly onto
im, and screamed with a voice I hoped wo
s womb is not the bloodl
ded gates. The only sound was the low, hummin
seemed to ho
hand fro
k vacancy in his eyes that promised violence. I saw it. I saw
the unmoving line of guards, his thu
his voice low and raspy, as he defended Lorenzo's honor
cer's gaze. Adults were always so slow to see the tru
iving a mistress the master suite of the Capo's esta
ame from the wives, a sound like dry l
around me, their bodies form
, their voices a chaot
estion the arrangements of the Family
nguish the fire of my past life's memories-the slow starvation, the endless humiliation, the day I watched my mother's spirit finally bre
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