Married to the mafia boss Series

Angelo

I decide to go with Antonio back to Chicago.

I take care of all last minute things with my men. I make sure my most trusted and trained soldiers are guarding the East Side and I tell Christian and Piero to handle The Dark Twist and Carlo’s. When everything is settled and I know my products are in good hands, I can leave-sort of-stress free.

Leaving Boston will be good for me. This way I don’t have to mope around my penthouse remembering her in my bed, in my kitchen, everywhere. I want to forget and alcohol seems to be doing the job just fine.

It’ll be nice to see Viola and while I’m there I’m going to have to apologize to my sister for being so distant towards her.

As the private plane begins to take off, my eyes are glued to the window. The city is beautiful and mine, and somewhere down below is Anastasia. I wonder where she is and what she’s doing. I wonder if she thinks of me and whether the thoughts are good or bad.

I wouldn’t blame her if they’re bad. I’d hate me, too.

It doesn’t take long to land in Chicago and when we do, Antonio’s private car is waiting on the strip. There are so many memories that run through my mind. Just three years ago I sat with Liliana on our fathers private jet headed to Chicago for Lorenzo Moretti’s funeral. Coming here changed all of our lives drastically.

She married Antonio.

I suffered a traumatic injury that left me deaf.

Luca became involved with Arabella forcing her to marry him which ultimately ended in his death.

My whole family changed that year. Now Liliana and I are the only ones remaining.

Going to Antonio’s penthouse almost feels like coming home. I’ve never once considered Chicago home, Liliana is home. My little sister carries a little piece of my heart with her. She is my fondest childhood memories, my confidant, and now, my everything. I survive for her.

Liliana stands in the foyer eagerly awaiting the arrival of her husband. Little Viola is in her arms. I survive for her, too. I overcome all my shit by thinking of how I want to be here to see my goddaughter grow. Soon I’ll have another niece or nephew to think about.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she wraps one arm around me. “Christmas wouldn’t be the same without you, big brother.”

“Nice to see you, Lily,” I give her a small smile.

“How did everything go?” She warily looks between the two as she bites at her bottom lip.

“As planned,” Antonio shrugs and leans in to kiss his wife.

I hold out my arms signaling for Liliana to hand me Viola. She’s grown so much since I last saw her. Her dark brown hair has an abundance of spiral curls and her eyes just as dark. She’s grown in height and weight and it makes me realize how much of her life I’m already missing. A part of me wonders if it weren’t for my job title and circumstance, would I move to Chicago?

Sometimes being here seems worse than being alone in Boston. The atmosphere of the penthouse is happy. My sister is glowing with a tiny baby bump. Antonio looks less tense with a smile curling at the edge of his lips. Viola clapping her hands together and giggling. There is so much joy in this house and it reminds me of how unhappy I am.

It reminds me of what I have to return home to-nothing.

And no one.

“Do you remember we used to help Mom decorate the tree?” Liliana snaps me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah,” the memory makes me remember a simpler time. “We would always argue though what color lights we wanted on the tree. You always wanted her to buy pink or purple lights.”

Liliana sighs, “And somehow Mom always went with your suggestion. Blue; we had blue lights every year because of you.”NôvelDrama.Org © content.

We step into the living to see a nine foot tall tree dressed with blue lights and silver and blue ornaments. “It doesn’t feel like Christmas without you, Angelo,” she starts to tear up. “I didn’t know if you’d come. I had hoped but figured if you didn’t, I could have a little piece of you here. The blue lights remind me of you and our tradition.”

I set Viola down who waddles to her father while I pull my sister in for a hug. “I’m sorry,” I whisper to her. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there. I’m sorry for the ignored phone calls and texts. I’m sorry for not being the big brother I always was.”

“You lost yourself, Angelo,” she shakes her head. “I just wanted to help you find yourself again. I was so worried.”

She is right. I did lose myself. I had to figure out how to navigate the world without sound and going through something like that, it changes a person. Dealing with it, I found myself again through the support of my sister and support groups and immersing myself in the world of sign language.

Then I lost myself again when I got my implants. The world seemed too noisy and I found my tinnitus was fighting for attention with everyday noises. The stimulation of sound was so much and I didn’t know how to find myself again this time. I was lost and alone in Boston surrounded by people who didn’t know what I was going through.

Then I met Anastasia and she was beautifully deaf and fluent in sign language and fluent in understanding the trauma of life and disability.

She was the map to help me find my way back and when she left-when I actively pushed her back to her father-she took the map with her and left me directionless.

“I didn’t put the star up,” she nervously plays with her fingers. “I remember that was always your favorite part so I told Antonio to hold off on it. He told me not to expect you, he didn’t think you’d come home for the holidays.” I don’t miss how she says home. “But I’m so happy and now you can put the star on! I’ll go get it!”

I watch her leave, she has a slight skip in her step. Antonio stands next to me, I turn to look at him but he’s facing forward watching his wife. “I haven’t seen her this happy in a while. You broke her heart and I fully expect you to cater to all her requests as long as you’re here. If she wants you to put the star on top of the tree, you do it. If she wants to make a fucking fruit cake with you, you do it. You will fix what you broke.”

I don’t argue with him. I simply nod my head.

“The Mafia comes first,” he says softly, “but so does family.”

Liliana comes sprinting in with a silver star the size of her face. She hands it to me looking up at me with eager loving eyes. “I can’t wait for the tree to be complete.”

I take the star and walk up the stairs leading to the second floor. The tree is near the stairs and as I lean over the bannister, I can reach. I stand back as Antonio plugs it in, the blue tree lighting up. Déjà vu from my childhood.

“It’s perfect!” Liliana claps as Viola runs to the tree squealing with delight.

The elevator dings and in walks Arabella and her husband, Carmelo. They’re holding hands and looking grossly in love. Both of their hair is disheveled and something tells me they had sex in the car before coming up.

“Angelo,” Arabella looks to shocked to see me. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”

Again with the word home.

At one time in my life which feels like many years. A time pre-incident, pre-deaf, I had thought maybe Arabella and I could have a life together. She is funny, beautiful, and vibrant. Then she was given like a toy to my brother who recklessly took her and broke her.

Then my brother was dead and Arabella was widowed but I was also broken and who would want to be with a guy who was becoming deaf. At first they told me I was completely deaf in my right ear and my left ear was suffering from loud permanent tinnitus, but weeks later the hearing in my left ear dissipated and I couldn’t hear at all. The only thing I could hear was the ringing.

Arabella became Viola’s godparent with me and still I held hope that maybe we’d choose each other despite everything. Then I heard the news of her moving to Italy to marry someone else but instead she came back with Carmelo.

They seem happy and I feel both happy and bitter for them. I don’t harbor any feelings for Arabella anymore, not when I found what still feels to be my soulmate. What I felt with Anastasia only happens to someone once in a lifetime. I’ll never feel what I felt with her, with someone else. I’ve accepted that.

I’m envious of their happiness. The way they steal glances at each other. The way the subtly touch each other and whisper loving secrets in the other’s ear.

“It’s nice to see you Arabella, you’re looking good,” I notice Carmelo’s grip on her waist tighten posessively. “You two look happy together.”

She looks up at her husband, “We are.”

They lean in for a kiss and I look away. I feel something inside my chest throb. My heart longing for the lips of the woman I love most. I try desperately to shake her from my thoughts. I can’t think of her because it hurts too much.

She consumes my every thought and every bone in my body aches for her, but my heart can no longer take the physical or emotional pain. It is painful to imagine a life with her or to remember how she felt to be mine for that short period of time.

I need to focus this time on rebuilding my relationship with Liliana and spending time and spoiling Viola. I need to take this time to build a relationship with my brother-in-law, I need to learn to move past my emotions and become a better Don.

Because if I can’t have what’s mine, I am going to spend the rest of my life tearing down Vasiliev and his men. I am going to spend the rest of my life being ruthless and merciless.

The Mafia comes first and to push my longing feelings aside, my duty as Don will be my main priority. From henceforth I will put all my time and energy into making all my men loyal and fearful of me. I will give them no reason to doubt me and no reason to think of me as weak. Boston is my kingdom and I am it’s king.