Chapter 2 Memories

"I'll see what I can do with her." I eventually agreed.

My father had told me that when I took over the business, I had to be ready for anything.

"Take care of her." Afonso reached out to pat my shoulder but pulled back, changing his mind when he met my indifferent gaze.

"I'll do my best." My voice was cold and expressionless. I might be a monster, but her father wasn't far behind.

I heard a whimper coming from another room and a woman groaning. I thought it could be the girl's mother, but it wasn't my concern to look after her happiness. In the mafia, everything was business, including children, family members, and even the heart itself.

"Pack the girl's things; I'll take her." I turned away and went into the living room.

I waited for a little over an hour. My brothers exchanged glances with me but said nothing. They knew how important this alliance was for us and that it wasn't just about my marriage. The decision was mine as the future fiancé and head of the family.

Afonso came down holding the girl's hand, and as he approached me, she looked at me curiously. I didn't know what her father might have told her, but her astonishment had faded in her big brown eyes.

"Are you going to take me for a ride?"

"I am."

"Can I take my doll?"

"You can."

"Where are we going?"

"To a convent."

I held the girl's hand while my brothers took her bags. Her fingers were so small that it seemed difficult to even hold them between mine. I admit I hadn't paid attention to the girl's age. My only concern was to go to Portugal and seal a deal, but I had expected to return to Italy with a woman to warm my bed, not a child to care for.

The best idea I had in such a short time was to leave her in a convent, to be cared for by nuns until she came of age, and I wouldn't have to worry about her until then. Sheltered in one of Italy's many convents, the young girl wouldn't bring me headaches until she became a woman.

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**LAIS'S POINT OF VIEW**

It's surreal to think that I belonged to a man before I was old enough to understand what love is. It would be comical if it weren't so tragic.

My memories before I was entrusted to the care of the nun were very vague. I remembered a very bright and colorful room, unlike the gray one with the little uncomfortable bed I was forced to sleep in every day. The other novices said I was lucky because, unlike them, I wouldn't become the bride of God but would belong to a flesh-and-blood man who was waiting for me just beyond the walls surrounding the Vatican City.

That might even seem romantic to them, but it wasn't for me. There was nothing fairy-tale-like about marrying a man fifteen years my senior who had dropped me off in a convent to lead a chaste life until I turned twenty-one.

I hadn't seen my family in ten years, and I wondered every day if they missed me. I thought they didn't since they hadn't called or asked how I was doing. I had asked the Mother Superior several times, but she had nothing to say. Even my mother tongue, Portuguese, was becoming an increasingly vague memory in my mind.

I should have been excited as my birthday approached, but honestly, I didn't know what to expect, and something inside me told me that a future with Marco Bellucci could be much worse than ten years of penance and chastity.

"Lais?" I heard a knock at my door, prompting me to get up.

"Yes, Sister Mary?" I stood before the door just as she opened it, revealing the very small woman with plump, almost childlike features. Among the many supervisors of the novices, Sister Mary was the kindest. I sometimes imagined she was my adoptive mother, there to take care of me. The little information I had about the world came from her, since our access to the outside was very limited. We had a television in the living room, Vatican newspapers available in the library, and very restricted Internet access on computers, which could only be used twice a week for an hour. I didn't have a mobile phone, even though I knew what it was, no friends, and all I knew was what was taught under the nuns' tutelage. The new arrivals brought the latest news, coming for various reasons. Some by choice, and others condemned to live here, like me, by someone who had the power to decide their lives.

The best of them had been Fabiana Rossi. She was the daughter of a wealthy family, always getting into trouble, so her parents sent her to the convent to see if she could get her act together. That obviously didn't work very well, and she was expelled weeks after joining. However, during her stay with us, she showed me a rubber replica of the male sex organ. I had never seen anything like it and didn't imagine I would again until my wedding night.

I wouldn't have any other male contact besides Marco, not even at school. About to turn twenty-one, I would be his little porcelain doll, or at least that's what the other novices with a bit more sense of the world would say.

There were few things in life I was sure of, mainly because of my limited notion of the world, but I wasn't looking forward to walking down the aisle with Marco. My memories of him were also vague. During my time at the convent, the man hadn't bothered to visit me, and I didn't know what awaited me once I came face to face with him. A bald, pot-bellied old man? It was a possibility...