Sold to Mr. Giordano

Arielle

The toilet bowl has been my companion tonight as I throw up the lasagna dinner I had earlier. It’s the thought of Arabella and Luca that is churning my stomach viciously. The bruises on her skin, the fear in her eyes—I would give anything to stop this wedding for her sake. I hate that she tries to make me believe things are alright and that Luca had any right to taking her before her wedding.

Antonio walks in and holds my hair back, “Again? We should take you to the doctors, you might have the stomach bug.”

“Yeah and its name is Luca,” I groan and rest my head against the cool tiled wall.

“You have to stop worrying about them. They are not your responsibility,” he shakes his head.

“She told me last night they had sex.”NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

Antonio sighs. “I guess it really doesn’t matter, she’s not a virgin so—”

“How could you say it doesn’t matter! It doesn’t matter that she wasn’t a virgin he forced her!”

Antonio’s face goes dark. “They are going to get married in four weeks. I’m done having this conversation with you, Arielle. I don’t want to hear a single word about this wedding.”

“But—”

“Am I understood?” His voice booms and he stands tall and menacing over me.

 “Anton—”

“I am your Capo and you will listen to me. Now, you are making yourself sick over something you have no control over and I will not have it. Wash yourself up and get some sleep. This conversation is over,” he dismisses me and walks out of the bathroom before I can formulate a response.

I pour cool water over my face and brush my teeth and by the time I exit the bathroom Antonio is sitting in his usual chair, sipping his usual drink. I walk over to my side of the bed and crawl in. I debate on picking up the book at my bedside and finishing it, but my mind isn’t in the right place despite desperately trying to focus on something other than what Arabella told me earlier.

Laying in my warm cloud-like bed, I close my eyes and focus on my breathing calming my racing mind and butterfly filled stomach.

Antonio notices my presence and downs his drink. He places the glass on the table and walks over to his wardrobe to change into the black sweatpants he wears to bed. He strides over to his side and all I notice is his muscled chest, him sleeping shirtless is a tease. I don’t normally fall asleep with him beside me nor do I normally wake up with him at my side. My eyes scan the tattoos painted on his arms and I marvel at the colorful art.

He slides under the covers and stares at me for a moment before saying, “Are you okay now?”

I sigh. “I don’t know,” my stomach still does feel queasy.

“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up?”

“I don’t think so.” At least not right now as my focus has shifted from the wedding to my husband. I wish he could see how much I need him. How much I want to talk and confide in him like I would any friend. I want him to act like a husband and comfort me and tell me everything’s going to be okay. Like always, he has to play the Capo card and let his feelings go cold.

“Tomorrow I’ll have Louisa make you some ginger tea if you still aren’t feeling well. If it persists, I’m taking you to the doctors.”

“I’m telling you it’s just—”

Antonio shakes his head once more and closes his eyes in frustration. “What did I say? I don’t want to hear a word about it. Now, shut off your light and get some sleep.”

I nervously pick at my fingernails. “Will you be home tomorrow?” I say in a soft voice.

Antonio turns off his bedside lamp and lays down on his pillow. “No. I have work to do. If you need anything have Carmelo contact me.”

And like always we are strangers sharing a bed. I yearn to lean over and sneak a kiss or to run my hands down his chest. I long to be in his strong arms as he rocks and cuddles me to sleep. I want a companion, I want intimacy.

I want love.