Chapter 4 An Engagement

• Marina
• Present
• Age 22
• I stare across the table at the fiancé that I’ll never love. I’m sitting in house that I’ll never call home, with people who I’ll never call family, talking about a topic that I’ll never care about with a man who will never love me. There are a lot of things in my life that will never happen and I’ve come to live with them. The diamond earrings in my ears shine through my professionally styled brown hair and I can’t stop noticing the incredible weight that they bring. They’re talking about business and I take a sip of my expensive wine to avoid partaking in the conversation. It’s a good excuse, I can’t speak if I’m drinking, now can I?
• My fiancé, Giovanni Rossi, clears his throat and wraps his large fingers around my own. I’m sure they feel cold and lifeless, like I do. “My lovely Marina and I would like to thank you all for coming today. It’s an honor to share this beautiful moment with friends and family.” He turns to me and smiles but I know it’s forced. He’s simply playing the part. Giovanni doesn’t love me. He isn’t capable of love.
• I look at the bridge of his nose to avoid eye contact and smile to keep up appearances. He squeezes my hand and I have to resist the urge to cough up my expensive dinner. Just another hour or two and then these people will all go home. The ballroom is too full, full with people that I want nothing more than to escape from. The fancy dresses and pressed suits of New York City’s elite sit all around me at the large table.
• My mother always said I should be thankful for what I have. I’m adorned in expensive jewelry and clothing and I’m engaged to the ruggedly handsome heir to the Rossi business. Of course, his dark hair and green eyes are appealing, but behind them lies a darkness. I’ve seen how cruel he can be. I have the marks on my body to prove it. I tried to tell my father, but he simply told Giovanni to hit harder.
• “The message obviously isn’t getting through to her,” he said over the phone. After I told him, Daddy just picked up his cell and called him. The man who did this to me. The man who beat me like an animal. Of course, I don’t know why I’m surprised, Daddy used to do the same thing. “Is this going to work? My little Marina is a handful and if you’re incapable of dealing with her accordingly then I can simply... give her to someone else?”
• Right. Give me to someone else. His twenty two year old daughter was an object that he could give away. I was the sole heir to his business. My mother’s pregnancy with me was a rough one so they didn’t try for another child and to put it simply, that screwed me. I was Daddy’s little princess, locked away, prepared for a life of loveless, cruel marriage and I had no say in it. I figured out what Daddy was doing for work when I was ten years old. I walked in on his men, the same men that followed me around since I was able to walk, trying to get information out of someone in his office. I can still remember the blood and the screams. It was on that day that I lost my innocence. It was on that day that I realized I wasn’t just a princess, I was a Mafia princess.
• Giovanni Rossi was the eldest brother of the three Rossi siblings. Another crime family. Daddy felt the need to combine our business empires. With my marriage to Giovanni, the Rossis and the Vascottos would be one large empire that oversaw all of Staten Island and New York City. It was the marriage of the century and I wanted nothing more than to get out of it.
• So here I sit, smiling at my husband while I thinking of nothing more than stabbing him in the eye with the fork to my right. “Yes. It’s a pleasure to share in this happiness.” I muse. Play the part or die. Those five words rung in my head. I didn’t have a choice. I have to marry Giovanni or I have to escape.
• Giovanni stands from the table, my hand in his own, forcing me to stand beside him. I’m not very tall, so he towers over me. I try to control my reactions, I can feel my legs shaking in my high heels. Giovanni squeezes my hand tighter. This isn’t in comfort it’s a warning. Pull yourself together, it says. I bite the inside of my cheek and continue to smile. I’ve perfected it, the fake trophy-wife-I-adore-my-husband-smile. The diamond ring on my finger feels too heavy, too constricting. I want nothing more than to throw it in the ocean and never see it again. It’s the wrong ring, the wrong man. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.
• But this is how it has to be.
• “Shall we take the festivities outside?” It’s phrased like a question but it’s more like a command. Much like everything else in my life, I have no choice. He leads me out the French doors on to the veranda and finally into the perfectly manicured yard and garden area. Giovanni keeps his vise-like grip on my hand as I stand beside him. The garden is decorated in pastel ribbons and white fairy lights. If this wasn’t so horrible, I might be able to admire the beauty. The garden was skillfully decorated earlier today. I watched from the window as the stuff strung up the lights, tied the ribbons around the trees, and weaved them through the branches. Giovanni requested pink and white ribbons. I didn’t know why, this was my engagement party, not a wedding party.
• My blood runs cold in my veins. Marriage. I’m going to have to marry him. I’m actually going to have to walk down the aisle in an expensive dress and give my life away to the cruel man standing beside me. He’s going to own me. Like an object. I will be Giovanni Rossi’s possession and I dread the day I have to say ‘I do’.
• Because I don’t.
• From the outside looking in, I’m sure we looked like the perfect couple. Gio stays close to me. Always. He never leaves my side and he’s perfected the loving gazes into my eyes and the comforting kisses and embraces for the public. He’s so good at being fake, that sometimes, I have to remind myself that none of this is real and that when all the guests leave, he’ll take his frustrations out on me. Like he usually does, Giovanni looks lovingly into my eyes with a warm smile that does nothing but set me on edge. There’s a dark look in his green eyes that terrifies me to the core.
• “I just wanted to say that I can’t wait for the wedding. I want to make this woman my wife.” The way he says wife chills me but I keep up the façade.
• I stare lovingly back up at him and continue my fake smile. The guests coo and clap their congratulations and I’m brought back to earlier this evening when he dropped down on one knee and showed off the massive ring. “Marina Alana Vascotto, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and unite our great families?”
• As I stared into his eyes, I saw no trace of love. I began to cry. I couldn’t help myself. This was all wrong, this wasn’t how it should be. The tears continued to fall and I stayed silent. I knew this was coming but I didn’t think it was going to be so soon. I looked behind Giovanni who kneeled before me holding the ring that would soon become my shackle. Daddy narrowed his eyes and nodded slowly. I wiped my eyes with my fingers and smiled. It was fake and my tears actually benefited the situation because the crowd thought I was crying because I was happy.
• I was crying because my life was over.
• But his isn’t, a small voice said in the back of my head. I pushed it away. That didn’t matter. I had no choice.
• With a wide smile I nodded quickly. “Y-yes! Yes Gio!” I exclaimed. The crowd erupted in cheers and clapping.
• Giovanni slid the ring on my finger and stood up. He pulled me close. “God choice, Marina.” He whispered. “Now kiss me, and make it a good one.”
• I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips to his.
• And that’s when what little sliver of my life that I could call my own ended.
• The rest of the night passes slowly. Giovanni and I mingle with the guests. They ask stupid questions about where the venue is and what type of dress I’m planning on wearing. I can barely stand to answer because I don’t want to think about any of that. Not now. Not ever. I want to push the reality of my situation as far away from my mind as I can. Think of better days.
• I escape by thinking back to when everything wasn’t so complicated.