Page 50 of Mafia King
“Violetta…” Santino warns me from a million miles away.
“It’s not—”
“Time to go,” Santino neatly cuts me off. “Thank you for entertaining my wife, Zia Paola.”
He kisses his aunt, then his other aunt, and finally Gia, who’s tucked away her pout as she kisses the two men.
“I’ll see you around, Gia,” Armando says as he pushes past the screen door. “Call me if you need anything, all right?”
“I’m so glad you came by,” she calls, waving.
“Gia, I—”
“Vai,” Santino commands, and I ignore him to grab Gia one last time before he drags me out.
“You should come stay with us.” I’m speed-talking. All the emotion is drained out of the words because I’m saying them so fast. “It’s such a big house for the two of us, so if it’s ever too crowded here, you come. Or if you want to keep me company, you can just call me. Okay?”
“Sure.” She looks concerned.
But Santino pulls me through the house, and when the door closes behind the three of us, I feel Gia slipping through my fingers.
13
VIOLETTA
The barefooted Virgin Mary stands in her little half-clamshell with her palms up at the vase of flowers as if to say, “Can you do something about these?”
She was forced into marriage after God gave her a gift she didn’t ask for.
Così stanno le cose.
It is what it is.
It’s always been this way.
Even God plays by the rules the king protects.
The sky and trees are painted with a rage as helpless as it is righteous. Streaks of it curl through the sidewalk, cracking them in a serpentine grip. Streetlights buzz in agony. Even the breeze whistles through the leaves at the pitch of nails on a chalkboard. My entire body is on fire.
“Violetta…”
Santino’s voice is almost drowned out by the white noise in my ears. I feel his hand on my arm. The path’s bricks press up against my feet, my knees, pushing my head on the hard sky until I have to crouch as he pulls me toward the front gate or I’ll be squashed by the world, compressed into a base, prenatal state.
I was a healthy woman when I was stolen and dragged into this fever dream. Rosetta was the victim of a different man, but the same diseased system. Gia can be liberated, but not by safe increments.
A mali estremi, estremi rimedi.
Extreme sickness calls for an extreme remedy.
“Violetta.” Santino pulls at me, but I appear to have stopped moving in this red hell. “Let’s go.”
Another command. I’m tired of commands. I am not a dog.
I pull my arm away. Behind Santino, Armando gets into the Alfa Romeo and drives down the block and out of sight. It’ll be the devil and me alone in the Mercedes. Him driving. I’m just a passenger again.
“Violetta.” Another warning. He grasps me again, but gently. As if I’m a dangerous animal he’s trying to lure into a cage with food.
“She thinks it’s cute, Santino.”
