Page 12 of Urgent Vows
Not for Carlotta's sake and certainly not for my own.
He leans down like he's saying something fatherly to me, but whispers so no one else can hear. "You're a stupid bitch just like your mother, refusing to do as you are told. At least try to be what is expected of you."
His words busts something open in my heart. My mother twisted herself into someone she probably didn't even recognize by the time he killed her, trying to be what my father expected.
I lean back so our eyes finally meet. I let him see my hatred.
He keeps his fake smile on his face, but his eyes show nothing but malice.
"I am like my mother," I say. "Too good for a disgusting monster like you."
I don't even care when his hand holding mine grips me so tightly, I know it will leave bruises. I refuse to show him my pain.But I let him see my disdain.
"You are so pathetic you have to hurt the women you know are better and smarter than you. We are stronger too. You could never have survived what you put mamma through." I don't know where the words are coming from. I've never spoken to my father like this before. But I am not done. "You are the weak little bitch, not me."
His grip on my hand tightens further and my bones grind together. I do not flinch. I do not cry out. I keep my gaze fixed on his, my head up, and my eyes silently defy him. I will not bend. Finally, the song ends.
Miceli is there to take me from my father as soon as it is over. "My turn."
My father is forced to release me. He does so with a mocking little bow toward me, never once letting his fake smile slip from his face.
My hand is throbbing now and the pain in my ribs is more acute. Any efficacy from the painkillers has worn off. Only the nausea is left behind.
I don't wait for Miceli to take my hand, but place both on his chest like I did with Severu. He looks like he doesn't know where to put his own hands. After long seconds, he settles them on my shoulders and he begins moving us to the slow beat of another pop ballad.
My sister's playlist. If only she was here to enjoy it and deal with Papà and everyone else.
My forbearance is stretched to the limit and though I never cry, it is all I can do to keep the tears at bay. Only a few hours ago, I thought this marriage might work out. That it wouldn't be so bad. That giving up my plans to run was worth it to save my sister, to keep my aunt and uncle in my life.
To be with Severu.
"Are you alright?" Miceli asks, his voice tinged with concern. "It didn't look like you were enjoying your father-daughter dance."
"I wasn't." My gaze drops to my hand where it rests against my brother-in-law's chest.
It is red and already swollen. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to hide it for the rest of the reception, but I know I will be the one held to blame if I don't.
Appearances.
"It must have been difficult to dance with him after what he did to you this morning. You're a strong woman, Catalina, stronger than I realized." He sounds admiring.
I do not care. Dancing with my father was not my choice. My strength, as he calls it, is born of necessity.
"I've had to be to survive living under his roof for twenty-five years." I wouldn't say this to anyone outside the family, but I won't hide what my life was like from the De Luca's.
They are my family now, too.
"It was that bad?" Miceli asks.
I lift my hand so he can see it. "Yes."
His dark eyes turn nearly black with fury. "He did that to you while you danced?"
"Yes." I put my hand back against his chest. "I'll need to ice it before the swelling gets too obvious to hide."
"Fuck."
My sentiments exactly. Though I've never said that word before in my life. Today might be a good day to start. Or not. After all, I am now the don's wife.
