14 years old
“You look marvelous!” Giorgia crooned.
I bit my lip, feeling really pretty in the dress I’d picked for her brother’s wedding. It was one of the few social gatherings I’d attended since my accident. The last time had been Dad’s funeral. The stares or obvious attempts not to stare at me had made me feel very anxious back then. Remembering that day caused a flood of anxiety inside me.
The past
“I wouldn’t want to be in Danilo’s shoes,” someone whispered. “A grieving mother, left by his future wife, and responsible for taking care of a disabled sister.”
My face heated. I wondered if people thought I was deaf. Since I was in a wheelchair, it happened often that they didn’t lower their voices around me. They cast what they considered inconspicuous glances at me.
I bottled my anger up like I’d been taught to as a good girl. I wanted to scream and rage, and sometimes I wanted to hide and cry. Currently, I felt like doing the latter.
I still couldn’t believe that Dad was dead and we’d buried him this morning. Now people had gathered in our home to eat and drink and gossip. It was horrible, and I wished I could disappear.
A couple came my way, and I couldn’t get away before they cornered me.
“Hello, my dear, we’re so sorry that your dad’s gone to heaven.”
The words themselves might have been okay, but the woman spoke to me as if I were three. Another thing I detested. Some people thought I was mentally handicapped because I couldn’t walk. “I doubt Made Men go to heaven,” I said defiantly but instantly felt guilty. I hoped Dad had found a place in heaven, or at the very least his peace. But these people made me so angry.
Danilo appeared by my side and touched my shoulder. At once, the couple talked to him and ignored me, and I was glad for that.
When they finally disappeared, Danilo met my gaze. “Are you okay?”
“No,” I whispered.
Danilo nodded. “Stay strong. In a few hours, they will be gone, then it’s only us.”
“If your stupid ex-fiancé could see you now… Maybe we should send him a photo.”
My heart clenched, remembering the soul-crushing scene of his father coming to our house to cancel the engagement and how it had made me feel. How small and worthless. It had taken months to move on but not because of my ex-fiancé—losing him hadn’t hurt. He had been a stranger after all. That day, I felt like I’d lost any chance at a happy future.
Eventually, I found a routine in my home that made me forget about the restrictions I often encountered outside or at other people’s houses. Whenever my family was invited to a dinner, Mom fretted over accessibility weeks before the actual event. Of course, she’d never inquire with the hosts if I could access everything. She didn’t want to bring attention to my disability as if someone could actually miss it. Sometimes I wondered if she was embarrassed of me. I didn’t dare ask, and she never said it outright. I wished she would treat my disability and my wheelchair with more casualness. If she showed others that it wasn’t inconvenient or even embarrassing, perhaps people would treat me normally. Mom’s inability to stand up for me made me equally angry and sad.
If Giorgia hadn’t taken matters into her own hands, the hotel where her brother’s wedding took place wouldn’t even be aware of my disability.
I knew it was hard for Mom. Our society made it hard for her. It was a world ruled by old-fashioned, powerful men. Men who valued three things in women: beauty, child-bearing qualities, and innocence. In their eyes, I couldn’t fulfill the first condition. I liked my face and body. Both were pleasing to look at but not flawless in how they were defined in our mafia world.
The moment I entered the wedding location that day, I was reminded of our world’s bias.
It was strange how an accident, how me being in a wheelchair, changed the way people perceived me, even people who’d met me before.
Suddenly, most gazes passed me by as if looking at me directly made them uncomfortable. And those who still dared to look at me always averted their eyes with an air of embarrassment and almost guilt as soon as I made eye contact, as if I’d caught them doing something indecent. As if they felt guilty for being able to walk when I couldn’t. It made me resent our world and wonder if I could ever really belong in it.
That they were looking wasn’t indecent, but I could imagine that their thoughts made them feel guilty and unable to return my gaze.
I wasn’t stupid, and despite what some people might think, I wasn’t deaf either. I heard them whisper loudly about what a shame it was that a beautiful girl like me was in a wheelchair. They made it sound as if my being in a wheelchair stole my beauty from me. Even at fourteen years old, the enormity of their judgment already hit me hard.
In a world where women were solely judged by their beauty and their child-bearing qualities, I was regarded as less.
Less beautiful than a girl who could walk freely on her own legs. Less in so many more ways I didn’t want to waste a moment thinking about.
Most days, I managed not to think about the many hurdles I’d have to face in our world. But on days like today, it was hard.
Over time, I’d forced myself to readjust my hopes and expectations. Would I ever walk freely again? No. Would I marry? Probably not. Today, as I watched the married couple do their first dance, sorrow and wistfulness hit me full force, and I allowed myself to feel both for the duration of the dance.
I had erased hopes of my own wedding from my mind as much as it was possible.
The moment the dance floor opened for everyone, Giorgia was ushered toward her brother to dance with him. I watched her with a small smile, fighting the desire to move toward the dance floor and dance. Giorgia and I had full-fledged dance-offs at home, but I had never danced in my wheelchair in public.
“Would you prefer to leave?” Danilo murmured.
I quickly shook my head because I wanted to be part of our world. I wouldn’t hide.
Giorgia met my gaze across the room and motioned for me to come her way.
My eyes widened. By now, the music had switched to fast pop songs. When I didn’t follow her invitation, she hurried toward me with a grin and held out her hand. “Let’s dance.”
I let her pull me along toward a corner of the dance floor, then she released me and began to jump and twirl to the music. I could see people watch her with raised eyebrows over her display of careless joy. Giorgia was curvy, too curvy by our beauty standards, but it didn’t stop her from enjoying herself. Emboldened by her confidence, I moved my wheelchair to the music until everyone else faded into the background.
I’d carve out my own bubble of happiness.
16 years old
Danilo was tense. Tenser than usual, that was. Since Dad’s death, he’d constantly been on edge. I still remembered a more easygoing Danilo, but that had been way before Dad’s death, before his fiancée had been kidnapped and then later run off with her kidnapper.
We moved into an accessible executive suite in the best hotel in Minneapolis a day before my brother’s engagement. The view over the Mississippi River and the city was spectacular. The hotel had two bigger suites, but they weren’t accessible, so we chose this one, and it offered enough space for us. Danilo had to sleep on a sofa bed because the suite only had one bedroom. The carpet was very fluffy, which made moving along with my wheelchair a bit strenuous and gave my arms a good workout.
Danilo’s face was hard, almost foreboding. Not the face of someone excited about his engagement. His second engagement, this time to Sofia, his ex-fiancée’s little sister. She was only a month older than me. I really liked Sofia. She was kind, and she still talked to me like she did before my accident.
“Are you excited?” I asked him.
He looked up from his phone, where he’d no doubt been checking work emails. “Excited?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes with a teasing smile. “About your engagement.”
Danilo shook his head. “I don’t see why I should be. This is my second engagement, and I’m only concerned about making it to the wedding this time.”
I hoped he didn’t share his thoughts with Sofia. She struck me as an emotional person who seemed quite happy about her bond to my brother. “I would be excited if this was the day before my engagement.”
Danilo put down his phone, reluctance passing across his face. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
I wheeled closer. “My sentiments toward an engagement that’s probably never going to happen?” The moment the bitter words left my mouth, I wanted to slap myself. I didn’t like it when I turned bitter. That Cincinatti had broken our families’ promise that we’d marry had stung, and my options were slim, but my happiness didn’t depend on marriage. At least, I tried to tell myself this as often as possible, especially now that I was at an age when most other girls were already promised. Sweet sixteen. I wasn’t sure who’d invented that term, but they’d probably never heard the jibing comments of older female relatives who made sixteen sound like the tipping point before you turned rotten and unmarriageable. I often felt left out. When girls my age talked about how guys checked them out, I always felt a pang. I’d had boys give me flirty looks before, but they hadn’t been part of our world where everyone just seemed to look at my wheelchair and not the person inside. It frustrated me, but I wasn’t sure how to change people’s perception.
“No,” Danilo said slowly. He stood and squatted before me like he often did when we had something unpleasant to discuss. I narrowed my eyes, wondering what was going on. “The Miones and I came to an understanding.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. Sofia was a Mione, but I didn’t understand his strange behavior if this was about his engagement to Sofia.
Danilo met my gaze and took my hands. Now I was really concerned. “Pietro, Samuel, and I agreed that you would marry Samuel.”
Samuel Mione.
Future Underboss.
Ice prince.
I had only talked to him once, and the memory washed over me like an icy flood.
Samuel and his father attended Dad’s funeral like all Underbosses of the Outfit. Samuel stood out from the crowd with his blue eyes, blond hair, and tall frame. Many girls fancied him. Now he looked tired, with dark shadows under his eyes and a haunted expression on his face. Ever since his sister had run off to join the Camorra, he’d looked like that. It must have been hard for him.
He and his father shook hands with Danilo before they turned to me.
“My condolences,” Samuel said, meeting my gaze. He was one of the very few who looked me in the eyes. Most people seemed uncomfortable to do so—either because of my grief or my wheelchair. In most cases, it was probably a combination of the two.
“Thank you,” I said softly. I considered telling him I was sorry about his sister, but I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. Danilo always got grumpy when I mentioned her, and I had a feeling Samuel felt even worse, considering it was his twin.
Samuel nodded, then returned his gaze to Danilo. The tension between them was palpable. It had gotten much worse in the past year, but Danilo refused to discuss it.
I stared at my brother in the present. My heart began pounding, my ears closing off, my throat feeling tight. Samuel was a good catch, a great catch. Most people in our cruel mafia world would even go as far as to say he was too good a catch for me.
Sometimes I caught myself mimicking those horrible thoughts. Not because I believed that I was worth less because of my wheelchair but because the people in our world thought so.
Women were judged by their, if possible, flawless beauty. To think of a disabled woman as beautiful was unheard of. People’s sight reduced itself to the device supporting me, not the body it held. It wasn’t my job to make them see reason.
Even as a child, I’d heard and understood the whispers when Cincinatti had broken off things. People had pitied me because I was disabled and doomed to be alone, but nobody had really blamed Cincinatti’s Underboss for wanting the best for his son, which apparently wasn’t me, and protecting him from a childless future at my side.
And now the Miones, now Samuel had chosen me as his wife?
“Why—” I cleared my throat. “Why did he choose me?”
Danilo frowned. “Aren’t you happy?”
Was I happy? I didn’t think so. First of all, I was overwhelmed and suspicious of the arrangement. “Why?”
Danilo pulled his hands away, then got up and perched on the sofa next to me. “Because our families are both important and—”
“Please don’t say it’s to strengthen our bond.”
His mouth twitched in a ghost smile that was gone before it could really manifest. “It’s one reason, of course. It’s always been done this way. You know that.”
“I also know that our families are already bonded because of your engagement to Sofia, and I know I’m not the most sought-after bachelorette on the market. It doesn’t make sense for Samuel to choose me unless he hopes to get bonus points for marrying a cripple.”
“Emma,” Danilo growled, “don’t use that word.”
“I can call myself whatever I want,” I said firmly. I hated the word with every fiber of my being, but it got my point across.
“Samuel wants a good, caring wife, and that’s what you’ll be. He doesn’t care if you’re in a wheelchair.”
I wanted to believe that, but doing so would have been foolish, and I didn’t like being a fool.
“Just be happy, alright? This is good for you. You have a bright future ahead of you with an important husband and a family of your own.”
Most of all, Danilo wouldn’t have to worry about me as much as he would had I stayed a spinster. Maybe he would even have felt obligated to let me live under the same roof with him and Sofia. It was better this way—definitely for Danilo and for me too. Annoyed, I wheeled back until I could turn around. “I need some water.”
“I can get—”
“I’ll get it myself,” I said, moving toward the small kitchen area of the suite. I opened the minibar and took out one of the tiny San Pellegrino bottles. I could practically feel Danilo’s questioning gaze burning into my back as I emptied the bottle in a few gulps, not even bothering with a glass. My annoyance had barely lessened, but I knew I had to continue this conversation. With a sigh, I put the bottle on the counter, then returned to my brother, who honestly looked confused by my reaction.
Had he thought I’d be overjoyed?
Maybe I should be happier? I promised myself not to doubt Samuel’s decision. “Does Mom know?”
“Of course. She’s delighted. We both are, Emma.”
Of course, she was. She’d been deeply worried that I’d end up alone. Spinsters were looked down upon in our world.
“When will it be announced?” I asked. The news would spread like wildfire, and people would spread rumors just as quickly. This was a bond nobody had expected, and thus, it would be dissected until it was a tattered, dirty thing.
“Tomorrow after my official engagement to Sofia.”
My eyes grew wide in alarm. “You’re going to announce it at your engagement party? What does Sofia say to that? It’s her day, after all.”
“I didn’t ask her. It seems like the best time. After all, we’re here, and it doesn’t make sense to travel all the way to Minneapolis just for an announcement. Samuel and I are both busy.”
“Danilo,” I said in exasperation. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t asked Sofia. “I don’t want to hurt Sofia’s feelings.”
His puzzled expression made it clear that the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. “It’s just an announcement. And it’s not like it’s our wedding day. Don’t overthink this. Just be happy. In two years, you’ll be Samuel’s wife.”
I forced a smile. “Thank you.” I could tell Danilo was disappointed by my lackluster reaction, but I couldn’t think straight. “I’m going to bed so I’m well rested for my big day tomorrow.”
Danilo pressed a kiss to my cheek like he always did, and I wheeled into my bedroom. After a deep breath, I moved into the bathroom to change into my nightgown. I arrested the brakes of my wheelchair, then pushed myself up and scooted down to the edge of the seat. Twisting to the right, I used my left hand to shove down my skirt, then did the same with the other side until the fabric pooled at my feet. I lifted one foot after the other, then bent down, picked up my skirt, and put it over the vanity chair. I removed my pullover, then pulled my nightgown over my head. Grabbing the handles, I pushed myself up, supporting myself with my legs until the nightgown slid down over my bum before I dropped back into the seat of my wheelchair. When I was done with my evening routine, I returned to the bedroom.
The mattress was softer than what I was used to at home, so my hand sank in when I tried to slide from my wheelchair into the bed, almost causing me to slip down. I caught myself and released a sigh. Traveling days were always hard on my body and mind. For one, they gave me anxiety. I always felt physically drained in the evening of such a day, meaning my legs were less capable of supporting my weight.
Once I lay in the dark, I couldn’t fall asleep for hours. My thoughts kept revolving around Samuel. I couldn’t deny it. He would have been my top choice if I could have chosen a husband from the available bachelors. I didn’t mind that he was eight years older. I actually preferred it. Maybe it was because of my accident, but I was more mature than boys and even girls my age.
Not to mention that I found Samuel attractive. Really, who didn’t? Many girls in our world talked about his looks. There weren’t many blonds around, and his blue eyes always sent a pleasant shiver down my back. And he was tall and fit…
I bit my lip.
Our interactions after the funeral were pretty much nonexistent except for a few shared pleasantries here and there. I didn’t know him, not that I had expected to know my husband. That just wasn’t likely in our circles. I only knew things about him, mainly from Danilo or the occasional snippet of gossip. Samuel had been a favorite topic ever since his twin sister’s kidnapping and his failed attempt to save her. His entire family had been dragged down the gossip hole.
Maybe that was why the Miones had agreed to the marriage. Perhaps they thought it would turn the rumors more favorable or finally drag the attention away from their daughter who now lived with the enemy Capo in Las Vegas.
Even if that option wasn’t really an ego booster, it was better than the alternative: that Danilo blackmailed Samuel in some way. I loved my brother, but he could be ruthless.
I sighed and closed my eyes. It didn’t stop my thoughts from whirring, but eventually, I fell asleep.
I’d chosen the more festive of the two dresses that I’d brought. A berry-colored floor-length cocktail dress that accentuated my waist and covered my legs. I was still shy about them even though they apparently weren’t different, albeit less muscled than someone who used them for walking. A small origami four-leaf clover I’d folded this morning sat beside me in my wheelchair, hidden under my skirt. I hoped it would bring me luck today. I wasn’t very superstitious in daily life, but I liked to use additional luck bringers for special occasions. I’d also hidden another four-leaf clover in the inside pocket of Danilo’s jacket. Knowing him, he’d need all the luck to make his marriage to Sofia work.
The home of the Miones wasn’t accessible, but they’d installed a temporary ramp so I could reach the front door. The open doorways, spacious rooms, and smooth marble flooring allowed me to move easily through the mansion. When I entered the living room by Danilo’s side, my eyes immediately sought Samuel, hoping for something that would ease my worries, but he didn’t look my way. He was in conversation with his father and seemed oblivious to my presence. I was impossibly nervous—not just about talking to Samuel but also about everyone’s reaction to the announcement.
As usual, he looked incredibly good in a dark blue suit that brought out the blue of his eyes even more. I tried to imagine seeing those eyes gazing upon me with love, but the image always distorted before it could fully form.
When it was time for our announcement, my stomach was knotted. Danilo gave me a brief smile before he and Mr. Mione addressed the guests.
Mr. Mione cleared his throat, then clanged his knife against his wineglass. “We have another announcement to make. Danilo, would you?”
I could see the confusion on Sofia’s face and cringed inwardly. I really wished Danilo had talked to her before, but I didn’t feel like it was my place to do so.
“It is with great honor that I’d like to announce that our families, the Miones and the Mancinis, will further our bond. Samuel will marry Emma the same summer as my wedding to Sofia takes place,” Danilo said in a festive tone.
I held my breath, feeling my cheeks heat under the sudden attention.
Samuel stepped up to my side, gave me a quick smile that was tense and definitely not joyful, then lightly touched my shoulder. A pleasant shiver passed through my body at the contact. Samuel smelled wonderful, and his fingers felt warm and strong.
The reactions of the people in the room ranged from open shock to utter disbelief or even blatant incomprehension. Only Mom looked absolutely delighted.
Soon, the first people came over to congratulate us. While Dante and Valentina and even Anna and Sofia seemed honest, soon other guests appeared before us that had trouble hiding their true emotions. I could see their astonishment over the announcement. Some looked almost displeased as if this bond went against their belief system. I forced my face to remain pleasant and accept their congratulations as if they weren’t fake. I didn’t dare look up at Samuel, embarrassed by people’s demeanor that he certainly must have picked up on too.
I even picked up the occasional tidbit of whispered conversation.
“It’s a shame.”
“He’s such an attractive man. What a pity.”
“Maybe they’ll pay a surrogate, or he’ll get a mistress pregnant.”
The last one made my eyes burn with unshed tears. I risked a glance up at Samuel. His hand still rested lightly on my shoulder, but he hadn’t said anything. He narrowed his eyes at a couple who didn’t hide their disapproval of the announcement, causing them to lower their faces at his silent reprimand. It made me feel a bit better.
He leveled his gaze on me. His expression was emotionless and completely controlled. “Are you all right?” he asked quietly.
“Of course,” I said quickly. I didn’t want him to think I was soft and breakable, even if I often felt that way at moments like this.
He gave a terse nod, his eyes slanting to the next couple of congratulators.
The Miones approached us when the attention shifted back to Sofia and Danilo. They smiled at me, but while Ines looked genuinely happy, Pietro seemed more restrained. “Congratulations,” Ines said and bent down to kiss my cheek and hug me lightly. She was a woman who still turned many heads with her shiny blond hair and elegant appearance.
“Thank you, Mrs. Mione,” I said softly.
“Please call me Ines. We’ll be family in two years.”
I flushed and nodded. Pietro shook my hand. I hadn’t really expected a hug from him. I knew him as a restrained man. “Call me Pietro.”
“Thank you,” I said again. I wasn’t sure what else to say. I still hadn’t processed what had happened. Ines gave Samuel a warm smile, but I also caught a hint of worry in her eyes. Was it because of me?
“I hear that you participate in an organization that raises money to help other people with disabilities?” Ines asked.
I was surprised she knew. I never talked about it, mainly because people didn’t show any interest in my life after my accident. I nodded. “Yes. We also created a support group for Made Men with disabilities.”
Pietro and Samuel exchanged a look that made it clear they thought it unnecessary. Many men were too proud to consider seeking help for any problem. But quite a few Made Men lost limbs, their vision, or the ability to walk or hear. It was a dangerous life, after all, and many considered themselves less of a man when they were disabled in some way. Suicide wasn’t uncommon among men after such a tragedy. Some still favored death over what they considered living an unworthy life. As a young woman, it was difficult to make an impact on these men, but we had a pastor who led the meetings.
Ines and I chatted a bit more about my charity work before she and Pietro went over to Dante and his wife again, leaving me alone with Samuel once more.
I gave him a hesitant smile, wishing I could talk to him as easily as I’d chatted with his mom, but I was completely tongue-tied with him. My thoughts just kept revolving around how the engagement came to be. Maybe he’d tell me one day. Though I wasn’t sure my heart could take it.
