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ADOPTED
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Episode 11
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Anne’s POV
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I slipped my arms into the sleeves of my turtleneck, and wore a jean trouser that stopped at my ankle.

I ran my fingers through my hair (I’m so used to doing that instead of using a comb) and checked myself in the full-length mirror.
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Hmm…I still looked like myself. Prudence said I should dress up for dinner. I laughed to myself. Who does that?

With a final look at myself, I slipped my feet into a pair of flip-flops.
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On opening the door, a petite woman stood on the other side, dressed in a maid’s uniform.

“I was asked to direct you to the dining room,” she spoke with a slight bow of her head.

“Um…OK.”

I followed as she led me through hallways that we expensively decorated with one form of artwork or another; antique vases and paintings… They were nice. The Salvatore’s must have a great taste. Of course they must. They were filthy rich.
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With a wistful sigh, I nodded a thank you to the maid and stepped into the room.

It was spacious, and large. Three chandeliers, one huge and gold, and two small and silver, were fixed strategically on the ceiling in such a way that it took the length of the table, which was really long with what I’m guessing must be thirty seats in all. And on three seats sat Portia, Cosima and Sergio, staring at me like I was an alien descending from outer space.

I gulped and took slow and careful steps, trying to see where I’ll sit. Portia sat at the head, Sergio on her right and Cosima on her left. Perhaps Emilio will seat next to Sergio, so I took the seat next to Cosima.

She sneered at me. “What cave did you crawl out from?”

“Excuse me?” I asked, not listening to her. I was concentrating on the cutleries; the teaspoon for tea, the bigger one for soup, fork in the left and knife in the right… or was it knife in the left and fork in the right?

Arrgh!!

“I said, look how you’re dressing to dinner,” she repeated.

I stared at my clothes. What’s wrong with my favorite turtleneck polo?

“Who’s she, mother?” Sergio asked in a deep tone that made me look up to find him staring at me with… eww, don’t go there.

But really, didn’t these people know of my ‘betrothal’ to Emilio?

“Um..I’m…”

“She’s your brother’s bride,” Portia announced dully and waved a hand in my direction.

I saw that Sergio’s handsome face screwed up in a frown.

“Where did he get her from?”
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“My thought exactly,” Cosima chirped in. “I’m thinking that maybe there was a favor somewhere.”
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“Excuse me,” I said more loudly this time. “Didn’t any of you know about this?” I asked as I shared a glance to them all.
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“Now first of all, you have no right to speak unless you’re spoken to,” Portia said. “Do you understand? Here we have rules. We do not live life on reckless impulse as you do back in the U S and the A.”

“What do you —”

“And, we do not talk back,” she cut me off with a cold stare, resting her chin on her linked manicured fingers which glittered from the number of rings on them.

It was pointless saying anything. The food hasn’t even arrived, and I’m already uncomfortable.

I nodded, but then my eyes caught Sergio’s, and he was still staring at me… like he was sizing me up or something.
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“So, tell us your name. Family background. Everything.”

“Anne. Anne Sheridan,” I replied plainly. What else was I to say?
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“Very good, Anne. Now listen to me. Clearly, because I’m only going to say this once. I don’t know why Emilio chose you, all the way from New York. But just know this. I value my family, and status. And if you are in anyway a danger, I won’t hesitate to call off the marriage.”
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I could feel myself sweating and cringing from her hard stares. I’ve never been quite tough. On the outside, yes. But inside, I was easily hurt. And Portia’s words hurt deep.
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“Am I clear here?”
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I choked on the tears.
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“Yes, ma’am.”
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“Good.”
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Just then, the double doors to the kitchen opened and servants came in holding different types of food in trays; they set the table and left.

Portia gave me a smile.

“Enjoy. Dinner is served.”

I already lost my appetite.

I stared down at the cutleries and the food before me. I didn’t even know anyone. They were all so strange. The silent clink clink as silverware met chinaware… the hushed whispers between Portia and Cosima and Sergio, Sergio’s eyes on me, the strange food soaked in wine before me… they all jumbled into one big mess in my head as I fought for control over the wave of dizziness and tears that tried to take over. tea length mother of the bride dresses

Bullies were bullies.

Whether in the form of abusive foster parents, or a classmate in grade school, or a sophisticated woman at the dinning.

And the best way to put them at bay was to tell them off.

I wasn’t as bold as that yet. Maybe next time…

But for now, I pushed myself away from the table and ran out.

At the door I bumped into Emilio as he was coming in, but I didn’t stop despite his calls to me.
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I entered the sanctuary of my blue room and there… like I’ve always done, I let the tears fall.

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Emilio’s POV
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I was late to dinner.

I knew I’ll be. Running the wine business and the Mafia at the same time was tiring. But there had to be a reason why papà left both legacies in my name, and non in Sergio’s. And I was going to find out that reason, before I thought of splitting the shares.
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I got into the back of the car with a smiling Festus at the wheel.

“So, signore, she’s here?” he asked.

I sensed the need for gossip, so I said, “Just drive.”

Truth be told Anne was on my mind. The way she reacted when she saw me, and when she found out we were getting married was still on my mind.

Did I hurt her so bad that she was filled with such… hatred for me?
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I didn’t want to think about that now.
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I was late to dinner; who knew what Portia had up her sleeves.

“Festus, step on it.”

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I watched as Anne sat rigidly at the table, and Portia had a look of satisfaction on her face. I knew that something went wrong.
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Just then Anne got away from the table. She bumped into me as I was about entering, but didn’t stop to hear what I had to say.

“Oh Emilio, you’re just in time for dinner,” Portia began in her fake cheerful voice.

“What did you do to Anne?”

“Hey, Emilio, that’s no way to talk to our mother,” Sergio cut in.
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“Oh, and what are you now, the elder brother? Too bad you both lost that role long ago.”

“Emilio—”

“No Portia you listen. First of all, stop sitting in my chair. Secondly, keep your meddling fingers off my businesses. Which literally is everything around here. Both if you. If you can’t accept that Anne is going to be my wife, then you can swing from the chandeliers. There are three available. Just enough.”

I spared Cosima a seconds glance and walked out the dinning towards Anne’s room.

___

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Anne’s POV

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I squeezed the pillow to my chest as I sat on my bed, earphones in my ears as I listened to Demi Lovato and DJ Khaleed’s BELIEVE.

I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes, letting the melody wash through me, and reaffirming the fact that I could do anything if I believed in me.

Even hold out against Portia.

Then I realized that I’d haven’t the chance to call Wendy yet. I took out my phone. There was just enough to last for about five minutes… giving the distance.
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I dialed her number.
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It rang twice, and she picked.

“Anne! I’ve been expecting your call for like, forever!”

“Sorry Wendy. I was sooo busy.”

“Travelling right?” she giggled. “Iness told me. And boy, aren’t you the lucky one!”

I sighed “I wouldn’t exactly say lucky.”

“Why, what’s wrong? You sound dull.”

“Remember Emilio from my school… the guy you forced me to tell you about?”

“You mean the damn hot Italian who sneaked donuts into your backpack?”

I groaned at her description. “Mmm. Turns out that my newly found parents made a deal to have me engaged to him through his father, if he helped them find me.”

“OMG! You’re getting married?”
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“That’s what I said.”
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“Wow Anne. When’s the date?” she asked excitedly.

“Don’t you get it, Wen? I hate that guy. And, it turns out his family aren’t helping matters.”

I narrated the dinner to her.

“And yeah. I’m still hungry.”

“Aw Anne. So sorry. But don’t you think you’re being hard on the guy?”

Truthfully… was I? I shunned the thought.
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“Gotta go, Wen. Talk to you later.”

“OK, bye.”

I hung up and resumed listening to my music.

I was so engrossed in it that I didn’t hear the knock on my door, or it’s opening, until I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Aaahh!” I screamed a little and jumped in fright, only to pull the earphones from my ears and turn to see Emilio standing behind me, hands folded and a neutral expression on his handsome face.

I cleared my throat, realizing that I’d practically acted like an easily frightened kid.

“Oh, it’s you.”

“Scared you didn’t I?” he asked in a low tone.

“No. What are you doing in here? Couldn’t you knock?”

He raised an amused eyebrow at me, and that’s when I realized that the additional drumbeat in the music background was actually his knocking.

I face palmed myself.

“I wanted to… look you shouldn’t pay heed to anything Portia or Sergio says,” he finished off in a rush.

Wait, was this an apology or what?

“Emilio I honestly don’t care,” my voice came out a little softer than I intended, and I frowned. “Being stuck here with you is bad enough. I just didn’t expect to deal with you the additional family hubbub,” I admitted.
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He folded one leg under him and sat beside me on the bed. I noticed that he did away with the suit jacket and the tie. He was just in a white shirt with three buttons undone, and a black hand tailored trousers. His hair was scattered from running his hand through it, and despite looking tired, he still looked… good. He looked good. Simple and short.

“So being here with me is bad enough,” he repeated. “Tell me why.”
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I shook my head.
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“Why do you want to know?”

“We’re going to be married, Anne. The least we can do is get along.”

“Get along? Emilio you practically dumped me. Not literally. You left me Emilio. You didn’t tell me. Do you know how that made me feel?”

I didn’t see myself blurting everything out until it was too late. I felt my cheeks heating up as I lowered my head. “Forget it,” I murmured.

I felt his fingers under my chin, lifting it to face him.

“Tell me, mia cara,” he murmured huskily. “Did you miss me? Is that why you’re angry?”

I could feel my pulse quickening at the close proximity, and the endearment term he used, even if I didn’t know the meaning.
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“No,” I managed.

“No?” he asked, leaning closer.

My whole body was trembling.

I swallowed.

“No, Emilio.”

His face was just inches from mine, and his gaze flickered from my eyes to my lips, and back again.

“But I did, mia cara,” he said softly.

His lips grazed mine, ever so slightly, but was enough to send ripples of reactions through me.

His lips grazed mine again, and then he pushed my chin away and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
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And I sat there, staring after him, confused.

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Sergio’s POV

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He always gets the good things.
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First, father’s attention.

Then, the whole inheritance.

And now, the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen for his wife.

And I was going to get everything from him.

Starting from his pretty little bride.

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Emilio’s POV

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I ran my hand through my face for the hundredth time while calling myself fifty types of stupido for almost giving into the strong urge to kiss her.

What was it about her that had me loosing control so easily?
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This marriage was just for me to claim complete ownership of the Mafia.
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There was not going to be any emotions involved.
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And I’ll have to make sure of that.
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To be continued
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