The Mafia's Wife

ISABELLA’S POV

“There is no such thing as good money and bad money. There is only money.” That’s what my father used to tell my siblings and I growing up. That’s what he used and still uses as an excuse for all the horrible things he does.

He says only the brave and courageous are determined enough to do what everyone else is scared of. He says he does what he does for his family, so we can all live a happy and comfortable life.

Murder is all I’ve ever known growing up. I’ve watched my father and brother kill people for the pettiest of reasons just so they can get what they want. More money, more power and more control.

While my home, my life, was built on piles of dirty money, I’d always been able to say I hadn’t contributed to the balance. Not until two years ago that is. Now, blood was on my hands and guilt watched me while I slept.

I had taken all the fighting classes my father thought were necessary for my siblings and I to defend ourselves. My father being the man he is, has a lot of enemies.

I learnt how to handle a gun the moment I was old enough to know what it was meant for. I did everything I was asked but when I turned eighteen, my father deemed me worthy and prepared enough to go out on one of his secret missions with my older brother Antonio.

I was reluctant but nobody says no to my father. So, I agreed to go on the mission. I thought all I would have to do was stay in the car and wait for my brother to do what he had to do. After all it was my first time. But then Antonio told me to put a bullet through a person’s head.

Of course, I refused and my brother did the job instead but since that day, my father treated me like I was a disappointment. I didn’t care. I would never take another person’s life with my own hands. Besides, I had never fit in with the rest of my family anyways, so I didn’t mind being the family’s pariah.

I don’t know if that is hypocritical of me considering all the luxury I enjoy comes from the fact that my family basically murders new people every week. But I derived a certain pleasure from knowing that I was different from the rest of them. That my hands were clean.

My hands were clean until two years ago when my father found out I had a boyfriend. Added to the fact that I wasn’t able to fulfil my requirements when I went out on my first mission with Antonio, my father decided to kill my boyfriend as a punishment for disobeying a direct order.

It’s been two years and I’m twenty years old now but I still think about it. My father tied him up and made me watch as a bullet was shot into the poor boy’s head.

My hands became bloodstained that day and the guilt has eaten away at my soul ever since. I started developing a certain resentment towards my father. He had ruined an innocent person’s life just to punish me and I hated him.

“That’s what you get for being so stubborn. Honestly, Isabella I don’t know why you choose to disobey father time and time again. You should know by now that the man always gets what he wants. That poor boy’s death is on your hands. You should have never inserted yourself into his life knowing the kind of family you come from. I hate to break it to you but your life will never be normal. You were born into this life and it’s about time you accepted it.”

That’s what my twin sister Gianna said to me the night my father killed my boyfriend. We’re not identical twins but still there’s a resemblance. What differentiates us the most is that my hair is so long it reaches my waist while hers is cut short to her shoulders.

Of course, I didn’t expect any compassion from her. She’s more comfortable with our lives than I am and I don’t even blame her for it. She was right though. It was my fault that my father had killed him. I should have known better, but it still hurt as hell and it still made me hate my father.

After two years, I still can’t look him in the eyes without thinking about shooting a bullet through them, just like he did to my boyfriend.

So right now, as I eat dinner with my family on the massive dining table, my gaze keeps shifting to my father. I can’t help but stare at him and imagine him dying ten times over whenever I remember what he did to me.

“Remove that frown you have on your face Isa. It will give you wrinkles.” My mother says across the table from me.

It’s five in the evening but she has a face full of make-up and her hair is tied in a neat bun at the top of her head. My mother, Francesca Giovanni, always looks beautiful but sometimes I wonder if it must be tiring for her to always look so perfect all the time.

And because she looks perfect, she always expects Gianna and I to look the same.

Two years ago, I would have respected her with no hesitation, but a certain resentment towards her started building up too when she just let my father kill my boyfriend without lifting a finger. My father loves my mother, despite the monster he is, and he listens to her sometimes.

If she had said something, maybe, just maybe my father would have changed his mind and given me a different punishment, but she had wanted me to be punished so she watched me cry and suffer and she didn’t even have the courtesy to comfort me like any decent mother would.

So instead of putting a smile on my face, I frowned at her instead, giving her a death stare.

“I’m not hungry anymore.” I start pushing my chair backwards to leave my seat and go straight to my room but my father’s deep and menacing voice stops me halfway.

“Sit your ass down right now Isabella or so help me God I will take away every bit of freedom I have given to you in the last two years. Freedom that you very much do not even deserve.”

He warns and because I don’t want to be locked up in this mansion like a prisoner, I roll my eyes, fight the urge to groan and take my seat. My mother smirks at me triumphantly.

I swear she hates me.

Gianna and Antonio, my siblings, the obedient ones, just eat their food silently as they watch the exchange between my mother, my father and I.

“I am not some kind of prisoner father.” I mumble in annoyance.

“Say one more word and you will be.” My father threatens and I decide it’s probably better to just shut the hell up. Once he notices I won’t be anymore trouble for the rest of the dinner, he clears his throat and all our attentions focus on him.

Father always clears his throat when he has something important to say.

“I’m sure you’re all familiar with Dante Giuseppe.” My father starts and my heart beat immediately starts rising at the mention of the devil’s name. If I think my father is evil, then Dante Giuseppe is the devil himself. He’s the most wanted man in the city and the leader of the greatest crime syndicate in the world, so you can understand why the mention of his name riles me up so much.

I am not interested in anything that concerns him but Antonio and Gianna are looking at my dad eagerly as if he were about to give us either the best or worst news of our lives.

“I have what he needs and he has what I need. And in order for us to benefit from each other, I proposed that one of my daughter’s should marry him and of course, he accepted.” My breath hitches in my throat, the room suddenly becomes cold and I freeze in my seat.

Contract marriages are normal in the world I live in. That’s what people like my father do when they want to form stronger alliances but still, I hope and pray.

Please let it not be me.

“Gianna...” My father says and I feel the oxygen rush back into my lungs. “You’ll be married to Dante Giuseppe a month from now.”

My sister screams happily and jumps up and down in jubilation at the news. I wish I were as comfortable as her when it came to the world we live in, but I just can’t be.

I’ve heard her talk and fangirl about Dante before. At least she’s getting what she wants.

So, I’m happy it’s her and not me. But if my father is forming alliances already that means sooner or later, it will be my turn. He’s going to sell me off soon and I’d rather die than be used as a pawn for him to fill his pockets more.

I have to get away from this place and I have to do it soon.