Diana Costello Brothers I

Beatrice Sartori

Exactly three days ago he left without even saying a word that could mend any of the parts of my broken heart, how stupid I was for a moment to imagine looking into the abyss and not being swallowed. It's strange how his absence becomes a welcome respite, some kind of twisted calm in the midst of yet another storm, for someone made up of lies living within one is like a normal day.

So, being trapped in the basement like an animal, in a small room provided only with a cupboard, a table and some cloths that were thrown so that she could sleep on them, if she could be grateful for the clemency given, it's just the fact of having a bathroom and not needing to smell your own urine.

Surviving yet another déjà vu of what life has been like in recent years, an endless cycle of pain and misfortune, at what moment did I allow myself to think that I could live something beyond that?

I never imagined that everything would be as bad as it once was, the moment I was introduced to Stefano I knew I was handing my life over to a bad man, after all, what mafia man would be good... And no matter how naive he was or try to be, I still had a little hope saved, for some stupid reason, of having a good marriage and a life of queen next to the next Don, that hope was extinguished right at the beginning of our marriage seven years ago.

I saw how dreams are killed and hope is lost, every day that man, in his every decision, was capable of destroying my faith. The most incredible thing is to notice how, in front of others, no one could even imagine their demonic capacity or the darkness that hides behind the most beautiful faces, but believing in beauty was the first mistake. In this dark, humid and windowless place hidden inside our own house, built only by its perverse idealization in wanting to fulfill all its desires by having a prisoner chained before marriage within the mafia, someone to take out its fury, make it beg and break the soul in the most diverse ways.

I'm trapped inside my own desires, taking all the lies as lessons in a long apprenticeship, making my mind boil with crazy ideas in an abused body that begs for a little rest and some care. Even though it's an unattainable dream.

Evil hides in a sordid way by infiltrating beneath beautiful faces decorated in fake pearls, creating the perfect decoration for those who need a single light to keep hope alive. I do have a brilliant, faithful husband who I can always smile at his kindness in front of others. Of course, I snorted because I know Don Sartori would never punish the sole heir for training his wife far enough from the council. The pains I feel spread throughout my body, in any movement I make, only shows how much he is capable of doing shady deals using me as a bargaining chip, willing to carry out his daily humiliations.

This has been my life since I was sixteen, to be Stefano Sartori's luxury whore decked in diamonds by day and beaten by night, carrying the title of wife would be very inappropriate considering the life I lead. That's what we are, fertile wombs, golden cunts born to marry the heirs, sold to form alliances. Women judged by other women in an endless cycle of hate just for being a woman.

Seeing how this pattern continues to repeat itself I feel that death seems more attractive today than going on like this...

I remember the moment when the first beating came after a family party, Stefano said he noticed my glances at one of the capos.

hmffff.

It's not like I can look anywhere above my head without being accused of cheating.

They are long years of which I endure being molested, raped and beaten by a man of extreme beauty, bright eyes that guard a demon, making declarations about a non-existent love, a man who was able to buy our marriage, like someone going to a supermarket doing the day's shopping, demanding to have his acquisition even before coming of age, his fixation mixed with an obsession with me completely sick, in fact, he is someone sick, soulless who feeds hatred every day, turning me into someone as sick as he is.

Not even at the age of sixteen, during the honeymoon, did I manage to delude myself more, as I discovered that I had married the devil himself. And it's those memories that consume what's left of the soul.

I entered the room next to him, after the wedding party in one of the noblest halls in the city, I was a little afraid, after all, it would be our first night as a married couple, his imposing presence making my back burn with his gaze.

In a moment I stopped in front of the bed and suddenly I was on the floor with her hands wrapped around her braided hair, I felt the strands being ripped out as I was pulled across the room, without having the opportunity to stand again I was dragged tearing the dress at my knees only to be tossed onto the bed like a doll.

His deep voice echoing through the walls of the room made my mind go crazy trying to understand what I could have done to attract his wrath.

"I have a wedding present for you, wife." The affectionate way he stroked my cheek left me sitting there.

I felt my body trembling and tried to follow the quick movements around the room, noticing the luggage placed next to a huge sofa.

When his gaze turned toward me, those blue eyes gleamed like morning from a sunny sky causing a twinge of relief, hope. Undoing our distance by placing himself between my legs, his hands came over my cheek in an affectionate way, wiping away the path taken by the tears. His voice came out softly, like a caress.

- Xiiiuuuu princess, I promise to try not to hurt – I noticed that her eyes sparkled.

- You already hurt me husband - I replied in a whisper, seeking some ounce of courage, because that was the truth.

"If you hadn't spent the entire wedding looking at one of the De Angelis, this wouldn't have happened.

Confusion took over my mind, his words and actions attracted a movie in my head in search of remembering, I was aware that I didn't look at anyone but him wearing a gray suit highlighting his blue eyes like the sea, the perfect smile causing strange sensations in my chest.

I was only allowed to watch and worship my husband, I understood that early enough.

I was awakened from my daydreams when I felt his left hand squeezing my neck, stealing the air.

-Don't try to deny amore mio, I saw it – He spoke bringing his face closer, licked my cheek and said in my ear - And for that I'm going to punish you, so that you learn to be a good wife.

I screamed sticking my head between my knees trying to escape the memories, because the first times are the ones that really hurt, the ones that destroyed an innocent heart and stole my soul.

Beatrice Sartori

It wasn't hard to notice that over time his cruelties got worse, pulling more and more of my body, this one was getting used to it, learning to deal with the pain, obeying his commands like a trained bitch as he likes to call it. The hardest thing is to recognize that at some point I saw us as a beautiful pair, even though it was too much even for a dream, I was stupid to love him. Everything was a lie and nothing I do is ever enough to appease the inexplicable fury and jealousy at his own commands making the flames of his madness burn between us.

Your smile, the caresses and every declaration of love, everything is a lie.

That's why I tried to close my eyes to escape, wanting to stay in the present even if it's painful. But in your absence I am only able to suffer from the memories.

The rough touch of her hands tearing every part of the dress, leaving only the small lingerie, attracting the attention of her eyes, shining as if she were unwrapping a present.

"Is that what you wanted to give De Angelis, wife?" I shook my head in denial.

- I only had eyes for you all night, husband - I said exasperated feeling the knot in my belly grow.

- If you keep lying, the punishment will get worse – I let out a sob, not knowing what to do – Sit down with your legs over the side of the bed.

I obeyed his orders feeling fear cling to every corner of my heart.

"That's what disobedient wives get." He had grabbed something from a suitcase in the corner of the room and when he opened his hands he had a red ball and a leather strap.

Caressing my cheek, kissing my forehead, he bent down to my eye level.

"Remember, wife, this is your fault. - His hands came with the strap closing on my neck.

In a strong grip ripping the air out of my lungs I feel like I'm about to be hanged, I try to support my hands on his arms in search of lessening the grip that interrupts the flow of air, without any effect on the body with triple strength, even with his nails digging into the skin exposed by the fabric raised to his elbows, he remains firm, impassive, increasing my despair even more.

His hand presses my chin forcing me to open my mouth to make room for the red ball, making the saliva build up inhibiting all my words, he closes the contraption behind his now tangled hair. I'm lost

In a quick movement I'm flipped onto my back without any care.

I hear a metallic sound reverberating louder over the wails that escape my throat then I am pulled back by the neck, I try to grab the bed, but nothing seems to be able to make it stop. I was thrown to the floor and held by handcuffs on the wooden foot of the bed, feeling like an animal, he grabbed my neck forcing me to lift my face and spat.

I lay motionless watching him take off his clothes, kicking when he pulled my legs and feeling like a doll as I was turned onto my back with his legs pushing my knees apart, his wrists hurting from the cuffs and the collar cutting off my breath, I felt my own saliva dripping. through the corners of the mouth.

He'll be a good husband, it's just a jealous fit.

I screamed something indecipherable as the pain of penetration took root from my toes until my hair was ripped out by him, my body felt like it was ripping in half. Stefano didn't wait, he just took it. And when it was over I thought I couldn't do any worse.

My aching legs barely held up as he brought me to his knees and the lashes began robbing me of what little air I still had. He took me again at the end of the thirty lashes.

At some point I lost consciousness, I woke up in bed praying it was just a nightmare, until I walked into the bathroom and saw the cuts on my skin, the dried blood between my thighs and the bruised wrists.

Before I even started crying the bathroom door opened and there were my husband's furious eyes.

"Don't close the door on me, you hear." I shook my head, unable to speak.

This time Stefano outdid himself, seven years later and he still manages to find a way to fuck with my psyche, even learning every one of his tricks to destabilize me. The marks scattered across the body show how I was unable to maintain the theater, I listened to the sound of the door opening, waiting for him to appear, I let out a mute cry when I saw my older brother.

His dark eyes seem filled with hatred as he sees my state and pities. The messy hair and always neat beard completing the familiar face, I saw the guilt in his eyes.

"Beatrice! - He whispered - That son of a bitch is going to die! Why didn't you say anything?

"What could you say brother?" Stefano is my husband, son of Don Sartori. It's not like he's punished for using his whore.

- Cazzo! You're his fucking wife! – he exasperated, lowering his voice right after and looking at the door.

Even if the family rules were clear about respect, fidelity and not hurting wives Stefano was not just anyone, under his skin there was a true demon. What could a single woman claim that an entire council made up of men wouldn't see my status as a simple upbringing?

I don't doubt that other women in the organization go through the same or worse, the result of a command that only values its own home, the Don doesn't seem to realize that he feeds his own wolves, distorting all our Sicilian values.

Unable to argue, I lowered my bottom lip so he could see my mark as Stefano Sartori's property, his eyes widened.

"I'm going to kill him." Giacomo looked ready to run, I grabbed his arm with all the strength I had left after days without eating.

- How did you find me? "I feared my husband would come back and find him there.

"Apparently, I don't know what you did and won't ask, but you seem to have won the loyalty of one of your husband's soldiers.

"Frank? – I asked.

"Yes, he came to my apartment to say you'd been missing for five days, only Stefano was holding you captive.

"I found out I was pregnant, he beat me and used me until he lost another baby. – I sobbed and my brother's arms supported my weak body

- You can't kill him, it would be a war Giacomo, he left three days ago he should be back any moment...

Fury surging in waves at the telling, the truth is humiliating and it's all my fault for not being a good wife.

"Fuck it, I'm going to make that son of a bitch pay, I won't be able to forgive myself for not getting you out of this sooner.

All this time I kept up the farce of the perfect marriage, the perfect wife a doll, I tried to forgive my older brother, after all, he only fulfilled his role within the organization.

Since our father died, he has become everything to me, taking care of all of us and doing everything to keep us together.

I let go of my brother's arms, pacing the room thinking of a way we could all get out alive, ideas swarming in my nervous mind full of hideous whispers and a huge desire for revenge.

"Hunter! – I exclaimed – Talk to Hunter, he knows several drug suppliers, get one that can knock Stefano down and one that looks like a good night cinderella.

My husband's connections with certain contacts would be just a toast, the ideas coming to life and the macabre thoughts taking over the body, of being able to take revenge on him and on the culprits for the horrendous nightmares. Each one of them that destroyed a part of the dreaming girl, each one that caused an abortion, taking away the opportunity for life to exist.

The grotesque way he disturbed and killed every good part inside my soul, his ways of trying to convince about how strong his love is and then his hands closed around my neck. It must be all my fault, for wanting a day without a spanking or dreaming of a touch of love, I was trapped in naive dreams waiting for Stefano to become someone else, giving up all self-esteem to live for him, waiting for him, yearning to that after the pain came the warm and caring touch.

I looked at my brother knowing that everything was about to change.

He would rid the world of Stefano and, as a gift, he would place him in the family's power.

"What does Beatrice want to do?" – A low and serious voice expressing curiosity

- First his death belongs to me – My older brother shook his head in disbelief - You just said you wouldn't forgive yourself, this is your opportunity brother. - Without any scruples I took advantage of your pain for my ruin.

As much as I tried to never be able to truly forgive Giacomo for having given me up so young to that demon, if he took away the opportunity to kill Stefano, that pain would never go away.

Our gazes locked silently, his eyes traveling over the bites on my arms and all the visible marks on my dirty little pajama bottoms. I took advantage of his close inspection to drop the bomb.

- We will kill him and fake my death for the family, we will leave the traces so that they believe it was the Sicilians, Don Sartori will hunt the culprits blind with hatred – I saw your silence as an incentive to continue - The Sartori will disappear from the map Giacomo, and you, the oldest of the Costello family, will take the chair.

My only reason to fight for a life is going to be to get my hands on each one of them and have them beg for a quick death, when all they're going to get is the little monster taught, trained and educated by the Devil himself.

Beatrice Costello

What was the point of starting all this, if not, to relieve the mind of all the shackles that bound crazy thoughts? To be able to find Giacomo's forgiveness, to forgive myself for ever having believed that I could be truly happy.

A real game of chess formed inside the mind ready to act at every choice and every possible turn, without measures or going back to the hole just the dam bursting letting all the rot take over, one of which could never have erased even if it had tried.

A dangerous game, since human chess generates deaths. And it's amazing how much it brings a sweet taste to my mouth making me take the tip of my tongue to my lips to wet it wishing I had more of that sensation

Listening to the song over and over in a maddening loop only keeps me more awake as my mind tries to get lost in the meaning of the words. Maybe that's the difference, I accepted the monster that dwells in me as a second layer, like the air I breathe. Did he exist or was he born?

Who will know the designs designed by the devil, who will know which fall he will give.

With each pain of each bite causing the pain to spread throughout the body, with each beating inhibiting my movements, stunning the thoughts that were forming inside, taking up a space that I once believed was good. Or at least I tried to imagine being good.

The space trained since birth to be condescending, patient, loving and obedient is now just a hollow and dark space, the suicidal desires I had were being taken over by the insane desire to consume every scream and every moan of her pain.

With fire, blood and the madness intrinsic to the lonely at heart, my mind is taken over by all the ideas flowing in a perfect scheme, the chess pieces moving each time as I lift the stick to hit the bastard again and again. Seeing the fury flash in his eyes, I dropped the staff on the ground bringing our faces close enough, stroking the beard grown by the journey, I find myself imagining how many he tormented without having me to quench his thirst.

Blue eyes gleam in response, her tongue sticking out wetting her sinfully reddened lips, was that the point of allowing myself to fall ill? Or was it already down before him? I place my hand on her cheek.

-I love you Stefano. I say, feeling the rumble in my chest.

The words coming out so easily that I don't even know when I came to love my tormentor, I feel my eyes burning with tears taking every breath I take.

-Beatrice -The serious voice stirs something inside me. - Let me go, I promise to pretend it didn't happen.

I sigh, climbing onto the small table with a few things neatly laid out beside it, tracing his outstretched biceps with the tips of my fingernail, eliciting a moan from both of us reaching his wrists, and stopping when he touches the ring on his ring finger.

–What kind of love is this Stefano? - I ask, reaching down, taking his hands to pick up the red ball trapped between the leather straps on the table.

He lays his head back as I kneel on the wood, feeling my chest heaving in such a painful way, replaying touches and caresses and looks. Was this love just an illusion, mine?

-It's the only real love. - I stop the movements trying to absorb each one of your words. – Love makes us crazy and all the monstrosities we do for love, doesn't make us monsters just made of meat.

I sigh hard feeling the pain carried by the huge drop that escaped from the corner of my eyes, running away when running down my cheek.

– Let me feel one last time. - He bites his lips

The sight of you so innocently helpless, exposed in all its glory like a sculpture carved from the most precious marble, it's this scene that steals another tear from me, holding your left arm putting my face close enough to yours, feeling the warmth and the aroma of his cigar breath, the tongue tracing all the path made by the tear sipping as if it were the purest drink. I pull away just enough for us to lock eyes.

- I feel like I've gone crazy. – I admit it, even if inside I still don't know how to distinguish whether it's good or bad.

-You were always crazy my love and perfect for me. - I feel the truth in his words, getting swayed, tempted to undo the ties that bind him. - Not. ' I look back at him. - Don't do it, only one of us can get out of here alive after that.

I swallow hard because this is the most painful truth, a knife that cuts my soul and for some twisted reason I love this pain.

"Are you giving up for me?" - I murmur in disbelief.

Your smile opens up huge making your white teeth shine with so much beauty, my piece of the sun that burns my wings.

- We'll meet in hell darling. – I see how the look changes at the same moment. "Don't forget whores have a reserved place to serve there too.

I smirk in satisfaction, it's the truth, that's what I am, a whore and now a bad bitch about to cause carnage, I went back to my movements putting the red ball in her mouth, listening to the whimpers as the words started to hit the open scars inside her soul, her accusations of being a bad wife, of being a whore from a bad family.

The indignity of bearing a Sartori heir.

I get down from the table facing the sea that carries all my pains, the annoyances and my heart, yes, if I ever had one, I'm leaving with that man. And even he knows it, as he stops trying to speak to force his best smile even with his mouth open. His gaze carries the satisfaction of knowing he's tattooed on me.

I dance for a moment chanting the music making my low voice reverberate on the walls of my cell, the feeling of pleasure grows, because this time it will only be mine. Mine alone, for all eternity. Without looking at anyone else, because the last look will be mine. I walk around the room, reaching the table and carefully choosing the proof of the monstrosity my love is capable of doing for him.

An infamous joke in which every movement brings out a smile amidst the chaos of blood splattered across the small space that used to be my cell.