CHIARA
A hand closed over mine on my thigh. "It's going to be okay. And if it gets uncomfortable, tell me so we can leave." He said with an assuring tone. Yeah, as if that helped. I looked out the window. I had no reason to be this concerned. I wasn't even in a romantic relationship with the man. Most importantly, it was never going to happen.
My selfish reasons were what brought me to him. And I'd do it again if it means it gave me time to structure mine and my mother's freedom. But that wasn't the case when I willingly laced our fingers together and let his warmth or the gentle strokes of his thumb calm me. It was something entirely different. I was fucked up.
The cars pulled over at the parking space, and this time it was the bodyguards who came to open the doors for us. From where we were standing, I could see his family already walking to the church, stopping right at the entrance. All dressed in the elegance of old money. Giving off an air of superiority, a classic and united family. "Are you ready?" he asked, holding his hand out for me. "Yes," I replied, placing my hand in his, and together we walked in their direction.
"Good morning," I said, not knowing what else I was supposed to say to them. "Oh my, she's a Marino, right?" Carmelo's mother turned to her husband. The man reprimanded his wife with his eyes, but it was useless. She looked me up and down. "Then how come she is this beautiful?" she continued. I faced the woman, smiling. "I'll take that as a compliment,"
"Welcome to the family, dear. And please get accustomed to my wife; it gets even crazier the more you know her," Mr. Conti said to me. His eyes were dark, and his nose sharp; his face screamed masculinity and command. Now I could see where their children got their pretty and distinct faces from. Both of their parents were even good-looking up close. My eyes widened slightly when Mrs. Conti slapped her husband's shoulder. "Hey! Please don't ruin my image before my daughter-in-law. It is our first meeting," she said to him. Daughter-in-law? Already? Jesus, somebody had to stop this old woman!
"But I haven't told her any lies. Celia, dear, have I lied?" Mr. Conti said. Celia shrugged. This interaction was so random and weird. Exactly not what I expected. Carmelo shook his head. "Yeah, as you can see, these are my parents," he said. Francesca and Marcello Conti; the entire of Italy knew who they were. Then my eyes landed on the young girl who had been smiling since we got here. "Hiya!" She waved at me. "We meet again," I said to her. "Yep, and…you ate," she said, pointing at my outfit. I always do. I smiled at her; she looked so innocent in her silk yellow dress and matching bow in her hair. However, one person was missing. Marcel Jr. wasn't among them.
"You've met with Celia already?" Mrs. Conti asked me, her eyebrows slightly raised. I faced Celia, and she nodded. "Yes, we have. At the fundraising Gala," I replied. Without another word, the woman stepped forward and pulled me in a hug. My hands awkwardly hang in the air. "Thank you so much for looking after my daughter that night," she whispered into my ear before pulling away. Her smile was too contagious to ignore, so I smiled tightly back at her. By the end of this day, I would need to see a dentist; my jaw ached already.
"Come on now, the mass has already begun," said Mr. Conti, taking both his wife's and daughter's hands and walking inside the church with them.
"So? What do you think? How do you feel?" Carmelo slowed our steps behind them, smiling as he walked beside me. "Your family talks too much," I replied, holding my clutch closer to my chest. He chuckled. "I promise you tesoro, that isn't even a quarter of who they truly are." He intertwined our hands and walked with me inside. "It gets worse," he added.
I couldn't stop wondering how I would deal with them. People who talked too much made my blood boil and my patience disappear. Vocals praising God reached my ears as we entered. The sound was not foreign, but also unfamiliar to me. I couldn't remember the last time I stepped into a church. Maybe I should ask the priest to pray harder for me today; I need patience as much as I can get.
People lined up to receive the offering. I just sat there, watching. I looked around and found that there were some other people seated just like me. Glancing at the man beside me, my eyebrows furrowed. "Why aren't you going?" I asked. "Because you haven't," he replied casually, causing my heart to skip a beat. "So, if I jump into hellfire, would you come after me as well?" I fully turned to face him.
He smiled. He fucking smiled as though we weren't talking about hell. He took my hand from my thigh and intertwined it with his, spreading his heat to mine. "Tesoro, if we're jumping into hellfire, we should do it with our hands like this. Don't you think?" Our gazes held. I didn't mind going to hell because I paved my way to it. But the fact that he was ready to go with me? This man was out of his fucking mind. That was very clear to me.
People took blessings, and then the mass ended. Thank God. It didn't feel right to me to sit in the Church when I didn't believe in what they did. But I respect them. I believed in fighting for my survival, and I made that my religion. The return to the estate was quiet since the man was busy on the phone. All the while, he held my hand captive in his, sparing me occasional glances and smiles. This man should've signed up for a toothpaste commercial. Flushing his white teeth came naturally to him.