Chapter 4 Lais

The Viewpoint of Laïs

I felt my stomach churn, and my mood was very different from the sunny spring morning. They would come to pick me up, and I would finally leave the walls of this convent to go to my wedding. However, contrary to what my novice friends thought, I was not freeing myself; I felt like I was leaving one cage only to enter another-I would never be able to fly freely like a bird. I didn't know what awaited me at this wedding, and I feared it would be worse than the endless days of prayer and fasting. I heard a knock at the door and got up from the bed.

"You can come in." I swallowed hard, but the lump in my throat didn't go down; it just stayed there, making my breathing anxious and difficult.

"Hello, Laïs."

"Hello, Sister Antonella." I rubbed my hands together, trying to rid myself of the cold sweat.

"You can just call me Antonella." She removed her veil, and I was astonished to see beautiful, well-kept blonde hair, very different from the short hair or shaved heads I had expected.

"You're not a nun, are you? I may not have had access to much information, but I've always been a pretty smart girl."

"No."

"You were here because he sent you, right?"

"Exactly. Someone had to take care of you."

"Why not him, himself?"

"Mr. Bellucci is a very busy man; you'll see."

"And what is he going to do to me after the wedding? Send me back here?"

"No, you'll live in the mansion, with Mrs. Bellucci."

"Does he have another woman?" I opened my big brown eyes. It was hard not to show my surprise at this information. I knew I could expect anything from the mafia, but I thought they at least had some respect for the religion that ruled the city and the entire country, where marriage was sacred.

"No, silly. The Mrs. Bellucci I'm talking about is his mother."

"Oh!" I gave an embarrassed smile.

"The team should be on the way to get you ready."

"Am I going directly from here to the church?"

"Yes. Would you like to go to the chapel and say your prayers first?" I shook my head and crossed my arms. I had prayed a lot over the years to be more than just a puppet in the hands of a gangster. I hoped to wake up one day and see my destiny changed, but that hadn't happened, and I didn't expect it to at the last minute.

I was going to marry Marco Bellucci, as had been decided over ten years ago without anyone consulting my opinion, and there was nothing I could do about it.

# The Viewpoint of Marco

"You look handsome." I noticed her hands smoothing the lapel of my collar and adjusting my tie.

"Thank you, Mother." I took her hands in mine before facing her.

I was thirty-six years old, eagerly awaiting the moment I would be united with a woman in the eyes of my family and society. This wedding was nothing more than the sealing of an agreement made years ago. I knew it was coming, and I had time to prepare for this moment; everything would go exactly as planned. No surprises.

"You're looking more and more like your father." She fixed a wayward strand of hair that had escaped the gel that molded my perfect hairstyle.

"I'm getting old, Mom."

"No way, Marco! You're still a boy."

"In your eyes, I always will be." I laughed, and so did she.

"Listen, my son." My mother took a deep breath, and I wasn't sure I was ready to hear what she had to say next, but I had no escape. Even though I was the Don and the most powerful voice in this mansion and all of Rome, Rosimeire Bellucci was still my mother.

"I'm running out of time." I looked at the hands of my watch. There was just under an hour left before the wedding, which would take place in the Basilica of San Clemente, an ancient and important church in Rome. The truth was, I just wanted an excuse to get away from the subject with my mother. Love was business, and so was smuggling; I didn't care what she thought about it.

Speaking of business, my relationship with the church should also apply here. The interests of the mafia and the Vatican, especially those who govern it, often went hand in hand, making us very likely allies.

"I know these are just empty words to you..." she began, and I frowned, looking at her.

"I know the circumstances aren't the best, but marriage is much easier to manage if you learn to love her."

"I hope you get along well with her." I shrugged.

"You don't think you'll leave her here and disappear, do you?" I didn't answer, and my silence was enough for my mother to be certain that was exactly what I intended to do. Obviously, I would visit her one day or another, and having a child or two with her wouldn't be a bad thing, since I still had no heirs, and that was also a sovereign's role. I admitted I didn't care much about it, as with my brothers by my side, I knew they could replace me in a crisis. However, with a beautiful young woman, getting her pregnant was the perfect excuse to take her to bed.

"I don't expect to be the best husband in the world, and I hope she isn't naive enough to think she has the right to demand that from me."

"But you can be, and I hope she's smart enough to know how to handle you."

"Please, Mother. Don't fill her head with nonsense, or it could be bad for both of you."

She took a breath but didn't dare continue that conversation. It was for the best, and thankfully, my mother had the wisdom to realize the moment wasn't right. My father had fallen in love with her, but that didn't mean his children would have the same fate.

I took the box with the rings that was on my bed (which would soon witness a virginity being taken), and I went downstairs, closely followed by my mother. In the living room, my brothers were waiting to escort us, along with the soldiers, to the church.

This shouldn't be a big event in my life, just the fulfillment of an agreement, like several others. I just hadn't planned that everything could spiral out of control.