Liliana
When people started to call for Benito and me to retire to his room, I felt the blood leave my face. Benito didn’t waste any time though. He took my hand and pulled me to my feet, then before I knew it we were heading toward our room.
His palm stuck to the thin material of my wedding dress. It was sweaty and heavy and too warm. Slowly it traveled lower until it rested on my butt. I suppressed a shudder. I wanted to push his hand away, push him away but he was my husband and soon enough he’d touch me there without the protection of fabric, he would touch me everywhere, would see every inch of skin that was supposed to be Romero’s only.
Sickness washed over me, and I almost threw up. Sheer power of will kept my wedding dinner in my stomach. I glimpsed over my shoulder, even though I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do it. My eyes searched the crowd for Romero but he wasn’t there. Part of me was glad that he didn’t have to witness Benito pawing me, but the other, the bigger part, was disappointed. That silly part had hoped that he’d somehow stop this. Of course that would have only got him killed. They would have shot him on the spot and then war would have broken out. Many people would have died, maybe even Fabi, Aria and Gianna. It was a good thing that he’d kept his oath, that he hadn’t interfered and let me do what was expected of me.
I turned back around and realized that we’d already arrived in front of our room for the night. Benito opened the door and half shoved me into the bedroom. I froze in the middle of the room, listening to the sound of the door closing and Benito’s steps. “You’re a real beauty,” he said, his voice already thick with desire. “I wanted to be alone with you all evening. If it hadn’t looked rude, I’d have taken you to our room hours ago.”
Bile clogged my throat. I didn’t dare move from fear of vomiting onto my shoes. He gripped my arms and turned me around to him, then before I could even gather my bearings his mouth pressed against mine. I gasped, and he used the chance to thrust his tongue past my lips. He tasted of the cigars he’d smoked with the other men, and it made me feel even sicker. His tongue was everywhere. He didn’t give me the chance to do anything. God, this was horrible. My hands grasped his shoulders, fingers digging into his suit, and I shoved as hard as I could, but his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me even tighter, giving me no chance to escape. His breathing was quick and excited. He was so eager.
I didn’t want this. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back tears and desperately trying to imagine it was Romero kissing me, but everything about this felt wrong. The clumsy hands on my waist, the taste of him, the way he moved his tongue like a dying slug.
Ripping away from him, I drew in a few desperate breaths. His taste lingered on my tongue. I wanted to rinse my mouth to get rid of it.
Benito stepped in front of me again and leaned close. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m going to take good care of you. I’m going to make you a woman. You’ll never forget this night.”
I knew I’d never forget it. I’d probably have nightmares about it for the rest of my life. Mother’s last words, the look in her eyes filled my mind. How could I have let it come this far?
“No, I can’t.” I took a step back. I needed to get away, out of this room, needed to find Romero and tell him that I couldn’t survive this marriage, that I wanted only him, that he’d always been the one I wanted and would do so till the day I died. I was being selfish, I knew. But I didn’t care about causing a war anymore if the alternative meant having to spend my life being touched by Benito. Maybe Luca could handle the situation. He was a good Capo. He could prevent war. Right?
Benito’s expression tightened, that sugary sweet smile being replaced by something more leery and hungry.
Fear settled like a weight in my stomach. He grabbed my arms too tightly, making me wince. “You are my wife and you will do what’s expected of you.”
“No, please. I’m not ready. I need more time.” Time to figure out a way out of this without getting everyone killed. There had to be a way where nobody got hurt.
Benito chuckled. “Oh, don’t try this bullshit with me, sweety. I’ve been jerking off to the image of your perfect perky ass for weeks now. Tonight I want to bury my cock in it. Nothing in this world will stop me, not even your big puppy dog eyes.”
I opened my mouth for another attempt at begging but Benito pushed me backward. I cried out in surprise.
My heel caught in the hem of my wedding dress and then I was falling. I braced myself for the impact, instead I landed on something soft and bouncy: the bed. How could I have been this close to it?
I tried to scramble off immediately but didn’t get the chance. Benito leaned over me, his knees between my legs, pinning my dress beneath him. I was stuck. I struggled, but my legs were tied down by the fabric. And I panicked. Panicked like I’d never had before, not even when I saw the torture scene in the basement.
Benito lowered his face down to mine and then he kissed me again. I turned my head to the side so he slobbered all over my cheek. His fingers clutched my chin, forcing me to face him. His cigar breath washed over me and his chapped lips were too close. His eyes narrowed to slits. “Listen, sweetheart. We can do this the easy or the hard way. For your sake, I hope you work with me. I don’t give a shit either way. I like it rough.”
He meant it. He’d force himself on me if I kept up the struggling, I could see it in his eyes. I couldn’t expect any kindness from my husband tonight. Tears and pleading wouldn’t change his mind.
I willed myself to relax beneath him. He smiled in a condescending way and shifted his body, finally giving my dress free. He pressed up against me, his mouth wet on my throat. He licked his way down to my collarbone. I tried to imagine it was Romero and when that didn’t work, I tried to stop thinking about him altogether. Tried to be empty and numb, tried to cast my mind to another place and time, away from my husband who would have his way with me, no matter what I wanted. Benito shoved my skirt up and slipped his hand up my calf. He grunted appreciatively and pressed his body even closer against mine. I could feel how much this excited him. Whenever I’d felt Romero’s erection, I’d been excited, but this? Oh god. I couldn’t do this. But he was my husband and I was his wife. I’d chosen this way to protect everyone who wanted to help me. This was my duty, not only to him but to my family, to the Outfit. It was the fate of many women. They had survived and so could I.
I hated the sounds my husband made, the smell that wasn’t Romero’s, the way his clumsy fingers tugged at my dress. He was my husband. His hand traveled up to my knee.
My husband.
Then up to my thigh.
My husband. My husband. My husband.
His hand reached the edge of my panties and I couldn’t take it anymore. I lay my palms against his chest and pushed him off me. I wasn’t sure where I took the strength from. Benito had at least seventy pounds on me, but he lost his balance and fell to his side. I leaped off the bed but my dress was slowing me down. I staggered toward the door, arms extended. My fingers were mere inches from the doorknob when Benito caught up with me. His fingers bruised my forearm with their grip, and he flung me back toward the center of the room. I couldn’t gain my footage quick enough and fell forward, hipbones colliding with the desk in the corner. I screamed out from pain. Tears burned in my eyes.
Benito pressed up behind me as I was bent forward and his erection dug into my butt. “Tonight, doll, you are mine.”
And there it was, right in front of me. I barely noticed Benito’s hands squeezing my breasts through the fabric. My eyes were fixed on the gleaming silver letter opener. Benito squeezed again, harder, probably angry because of my lack of reaction. I gripped the letter opener. It felt good in my hand, cold and hard. My husband tore at the edge of my corset. I tightened my grip on the opener and jabbed my arm backward as hard as I could. Benito stumbled away with a gurgling gasp, giving me free. I whirled around. The letter opener stuck out of his right side. Blood soaked the white fabric of his shirt. I must have hit him really hard, maybe even injured him seriously. I’d never done something like that.
My lips parted in shock. I’d really plunged a knife into my husband’s stomach. His wide eyes stared. “You bitch, I–” He gasped and dropped to his knees. His ugly beetle eyes grew even wider as he rasped in pain.
I stumbled away from him. What if he called for help? What if someone saw what I’d done? I’d stabbed my own husband. They would kill me for that, and even if they didn’t, Benito surely would beat me to death if he survived the wound.
There was only one thing I could do, only one person who could help me and I wasn’t even sure if he still would after everything I’d put him through. After what I’d said and what he had to witness today. Maybe he wasn’t even in Chicago anymore. Maybe he’d already taken the next flight back to New York to get as far away from me as possible.
I rushed toward my bag, ripped it open and fumbled for my phone. With shaking fingers I keyed in the number I knew by heart. Benito seemed still dazed but he had gotten up on his elbows. He was gasping for breath, obviously trying to find his voice to scream for help. What if he came toward me? Could I finish what I’d started?
A new wave of panic hit me hard.
After the first ring, Romero’s familiar voice rang out. “Lily?”
I’d never felt more relieved in my life. He hadn’t ignored my call. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t hate me.
“Please help me,” I whispered, voice hoarse with tears. They were streaming down my face. It wasn’t because I’d just stabbed someone with a letter opener, I felt no regret over that.
“I’m coming. Where are you?”
“Bedroom.”
“Don’t hang up,” he ordered. I wouldn’t have. I could hear him moving, could hear his calm breathing, and it calmed me in turn. Romero would be here soon and then everything would be all right.
After everything that had happened, he still rushed to help me.
Less than two minutes later, there was a knock. He must have been close or it would have taken him much longer to reach the bedroom. For a couple of seconds, I wasn’t sure if I could even move. My legs felt numb.
“Lily, you have to open the door. It’s locked. If I break it down, people will be up here in no time.”
That was all it took. I crossed the room in a few steps and opened the door. My heart was beating in my throat, and only when I saw Romero’s worried face did I dare to lower the phone from my ear and hang up. I felt safe now, even though I knew I was far from it. We both were in grave danger if anyone found us like that. By calling Romero, I’d put him in harm’s way. How could I do that to someone I loved? Hadn’t I gone through with this marriage exactly to protect Romero?
Romero eyes wandered over my half-open corset, my disheveled hair and ripped skirt, and his face flashed with fury. He stepped into the room, closed the door and cupped my face. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
I shook my head, which I realized a moment later, could be taken as an answer to either question. “I stabbed him. I couldn’t bear his touch. I didn’t want his hands on me. I…” Romero pulled me against him, my cheek pressed against his strong chest. I listened to the sound of his pounding heart. Outside he looked calm but his heart betrayed him. “I didn’t sleep with him. I couldn’t.”
“He’s still alive,” he murmured after a moment before he pulled back. Deprived of his warmth, I wrapped my arms around myself. Romero advanced on my husband whose eyes were darting between Romero and me like he was watching a tennis match. His breathing rattled in his chest, but he’d dragged himself closer to the desk and was reaching for his phone. Romero stood over him, then calmly pushed his arm back down to the ground.
Benito fell onto his side with a pained gasp. He reminded me of a beetle who was trapped on his back, its legs helplessly pedaling above its body. I didn’t feel any pity though.
“You,” Benito snarled, then started coughing. Blood speckled his lips. “Did your Capo set this up? Chicago will make him pay tenfold. Dante won’t let you make a fool out of me and everyone else.”
“You aren’t important enough for Luca to give a shit about you,” Romero said coldly. He had the same expression I’d seen when he’d watched the Russians getting tortured in the basement.
I shivered.
Realization settled on Benito’s face as his eyes swiveled from Romero to me. “You and her.” His mouth pulled into a nasty grimace, spittle clinging to his lips. “You nasty whore let him fuck you. You–”
He never got the chance to finish his sentence. Romero stepped up to Benito, jerked him up by his collar and then in one practiced motion he pulled his knife and plunged it in an upward angle between my husband’s ribs, silencing his rattling breath. Without even blinking, Romero let go of Benito, who fell to his side, lifeless.
