The Blood Union Was a Lie, and So Was My Mother’s Death

Three years ago, my sister and I were blood-bound to the two Marchetti brothers on the same day, in the same hidden ceremony no soldier of the Family was permitted to speak of.

I was given to the older one, Don of the Marchetti Family; she was given to the younger, the Underboss who stood at his right hand.

Before our mother died, she sat through three full days on a cheap long-distance bus just to make it to our wedding.

For that day, I knelt outside the gates of the Marchetti estate for two days without food or water, begging the soldiers to let me pass, until Salvatore Marchetti finally agreed to play along with the act.

But when his moment came, I screamed myself hoarse and there was no sign of him.

And his brother Lorenzo Marchetti never showed either.

Our mother panicked so badly she fainted on the spot, and my sister caught her against her chest and sobbed until she fell apart.

Shaking all over, I called Salvatore, and he hung up on me three times before he finally picked up.

He heard the fear and urgency in my voice, and his answer was nothing but irritation.

"You use your mother as an excuse every single time. I already agreed, didn't I? You think I'd run off? Carmela cut her hand open. I have to get her to the clinic first. And she got hurt because of you. Can you not pick a moment like this to throw a fit?"

Before I could get a word out, he'd already hung up and cut the line dead.

When my sister heard, she immediately called her husband, Lorenzo, begging him through her tears to come to the wedding.

All she got back was a furious tirade.

"You ever hear the story about the boy who cried wolf? How is it your mother's at death's door every time something happens to Carmela? You've put on enough of a show, and I've seen enough of it. I've got her hospital bill to settle, so quit wasting my time."

The moment that call ended, our mother breathed her last in my sister's arms.

The wedding turned into our mother's funeral.

My sister and I handled the arrangements together.

Then we sent the brothers word that we wanted to sever the blood-union.

Their answer was to bring Carmela Vitale home to our house.

By the time we finished with our mother's funeral, the sky had gone dark.

My sister and I came home together, and only then did we have the chance to help each other out of the cheap rented wedding gowns.

Ten hours had passed since I'd sent word that we wanted out.

Not a single word back.

This wasn't the first time they'd thrown us aside for Carmela Vitale.

What I hadn't expected was that even severing a blood-union would have to wait its turn behind their precious first love.

In our three years bound to that Family, the moment my sister and I were ever left alone with them, Carmela Vitale would conveniently suffer some accident or another.

Either a pipe sprang a leak, or the gas wouldn't light.

The kind of small, ordinary problem that, the instant it happened to Carmela Vitale, became the end of the world to the two Marchetti men.

My sister had come to me for help more times than I could count.

At first I'd asked questions, even made a scene about it, but everything that came after taught me the truth: our place had been fixed the moment we signed our names into that blood-union pact. Outsiders. Brides bought to balance a debt, never made, never family.

By the time my sister and I had packed our bags and the clothes our mother had left behind, ready to leave, they finally came home.

Carmela Vitale trailed sweetly behind them, waiting for one of them to fetch her slippers.

The three of them were laughing and joking, and it stopped dead the moment they saw my sister and me.

Irritation surged up in Salvatore's eyes, and his voice came out cold.

"Where do you think you're going? What's gotten into you now? I already explained today to you, didn't I?"

He didn't care at all as he stared at my eyes, red and bloodshot with exhaustion. His thumb turned the heavy signet ring on his right hand, slow and idle, the way it always did when he'd already decided a matter wasn't worth his patience.

His voice only grew more impatient.

"Enough. The ceremony was just an act in the first place. Carmela happened to get hurt and it fell on the same day, what was I supposed to do? We'll just stage another one for you later, and that's the end of it, isn't it?"

"Besides, if your mother hadn't come, Carmela never would've thought to make her a medicinal meal, and she wouldn't have cut her own hand open doing it. I haven't even held that against you, so what more is there to throw a fit about? Don't push it."

My sister gripped my hand tighter and tighter, a faint tremor running through her. Her free hand rose and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Beside him, Lorenzo couldn't even be bothered to explain anything.

He bent down to get Carmela Vitale's slippers and then thoughtfully slipped them onto her feet for her.

Carmela Vitale swept a glance over the suitcases in our hands and turned a wounded look up at Salvatore.

"Salvatore, why would you say that? I'm the one who held up your ceremony in the first place. It was my fault."

Then she turned and explained to me.

"Adriana, why have you even dragged your suitcase out? I cut my hand today and lost so much blood, I was honestly terrified, that's the only reason I told them. Who knew they'd make such a fuss and actually take me to the clinic? You know I don't have anyone in this Family"

I stared at the tiny bandage on her finger and was suddenly struck by how pathetic, how ridiculous, I was.

Ridiculous, and pitiful.

"If you don't mind, from now on I could tell you whenever something happens to me. Would you be my sister? I've always felt so close to you."

As she finished, a delicate, charming smile rose on her face, her eyes brimming with smugness she couldn't hide.

In that instant, the sight of my mother breathing her last rose up before my eyes.

I dug my nails hard into my palm, forcing myself clear with the pain. The thin gold band still sat on my finger. My hand closed around it.

"I have a real sister. Do me a favor and don't call me that."

Salvatore's face went completely dark, fury churning in his eyes.

"What kind of attitude is that? Apologize to Carmela right now. She's injured and she still insisted on finishing that whole medicinal meal of hers. Do you have any idea what that heart of hers is worth?"

I glanced at the insulated container in his hand and felt a cold smile tug at my lips.

"I've done right by everyone. The only one I've wronged is myself. Sever the blood-union. I'm tired."

His furious expression froze on his face, as if he couldn't believe those words had come from me. The ring stopped turning under his thumb.

And my sister, always so reserved, found her courage this time and spoke up to Lorenzo.

"We're severing ours too."

This suffocating house, with its silence that pressed down like a hand at the throat, we couldn't bear another minute in it.

Lorenzo's hands stilled mid-motion over the woman's shoes, and he shot upright, disbelief written all over his face.

His voice climbed several degrees, and he snarled:

"What did you say?!"

I didn't answer him. The word severance was out, said aloud inside the Marchetti walls where such words were never spoken, and I was ready to take my sister and go.

But as I dragged the suitcase past Lorenzo, he seized her wrist.

He yanked her in front of him with sudden force.

His eyes were bloodshot with fury.

"Sever the union? Because I took Carmela to the clinic instead of standing through some pact your people dressed up as a wedding, you want out? Are you out of your goddamn mind?"

"What's wrong with helping someone? What did I do wrong? And Carmela got hurt because of your mother in the first place! And now you're threatening me with severing the union?"

"Fine. Severed. I'll grant it! I'll grant it!"

The suitcase toppled to the floor, and Lorenzo brought his foot down on it, again and again.

The veins stood out on his neck. He cracked the knuckles of one hand against his palm, the soft pop swallowed by his own breathing, and then he stopped talking.

I quickly pulled my sister back behind me, shielding her.

She'd always been timid, and now her small body was shaking, on the edge of bursting into tears right there.

In that moment I finally understood how foolish I'd been to agree to let her be bound to Lorenzo.

A dozen stomps in, the suitcase finally gave out and split wide open.

Our mother's keepsakes scattered across the floor.

He couldn't pull his foot back in time. His polished leather shoe came down right on the clothes, and the faded fabric was marked with footprints in an instant.

A scream tore out of me, and I lunged a step forward and shoved him off.

"Don't touch them! Get away!"

Salvatore's face was cold to the bone, his voice pressed down over the anger, full of warning. The room had gone silent the way a room goes silent only when the Don decides it should.

"Adriana, my patience with you has a limit. Stop testing it over and over again."

I rushed in and crouched over our mother's things, guarding them.

The Marchetti brothers traded a look. Lorenzo caught his meaning at once and dragged me and my sister aside.

Salvatore handed the thermal box in his hand to Carmela.

He stood in front of the suitcase, reached down and lifted a few pieces of clothing for a glance, and a sneer curled at the corner of his mouth.

Then he tossed the clothes carelessly back onto the floor and reached for a cigarette.

He turned the heavy signet ring on his right hand once, slowly, and the lighter was clenched in his fist.

"Treating a pile of garbage like treasure? What's with the pitiful act? Have I ever failed to feed you or clothe you under this family's roof?"

"You knew perfectly well the union was just a contract between bloodlines. What are you making a scene about now? Is a paper pact worth more than a human life?"

"I said we'd make it up to you, so we will. Are you still not done? You love this pile of rags? Fine!"

Before I could even react, his hand went still around the lighter. He flicked it to flame and let go.

Fire caught on our mother's keepsakes in an instant.

A scream tore out of me. "No!"

I tried to rush over, but Lorenzo's grip clamped down on my neck and I couldn't move.

My always-gentle sister had gone mad.

Her eyes were red. Her hands fell open at her sides, no longer reaching to tuck the loose strand of hair behind her ear, and then she opened her mouth wide and bit down hard on Lorenzo's hand.

In the second his grip loosened, she spun and slapped him across the face.

For a beat everyone froze. No soldier moved. No breath broke the quiet.

Carmela quickly set the thermal box on the table and rushed over to wrap my sister in her arms.

"Don't panic, Lorenzo didn't mean any harm, he only wanted to settle things between you!"

But from somewhere my sister found the strength to break free of her hold and grab a fistful of her hair.

Carmela was knocked to the floor, and my sister sat on her, grappling and tearing at her.

Wretched, sobbing cries echoed through the room.

Lorenzo had me locked down, unable to break loose, and I could only keep crying out for his brother to stop.

Salvatore's eyes went red at the sight. He stepped up, fisted my sister's hair, and dragged her off Carmela.

He pinned her head and slammed it into the wall.

After three times, blood poured down my sister's forehead.

My frantic scream came out shaking.

And all I could do was watch her run out of strength to struggle.

In a few minutes, our mother's keepsakes had burned to ash in the flames, and the floor was stained with black smoke into a mark that would never come out.

A helplessness and defeat I had never felt before closed over my head.

I opened my mouth and no sound came out.

Tears spilled hot over my lashes, my eyes dropping to the black ash spread across the marble of the Marchetti estate floor, and what was left of my heart burned down with it.

Three years ago, when Salvatore first laid out the terms of the blood-union, I should have understood.

My sister and I were never anything but pieces he moved across the board to keep the matriarch quiet, two outsider brides bought to settle a debt.

The only one who had ever mattered to either of them was Carmela Vitale.

I just understood it too late.

Salvatore wiped the back of his hand with a folded handkerchief, disgust in every careful pass, the heavy signet ring catching the light.

Then he turned to comfort Carmela.

She sobbed her wronged little sobs for a while, and at last Lorenzo let go of my throat.

Not out of mercy. He was too busy pressing a clean cloth into Carmela's hands.

I watched the two Marchetti brothers close around her, their faces full of worry and tenderness, the soldiers along the wall keeping their eyes carefully fixed on nothing.

Under all that soothing concern, Carmela's crying slowly trailed off.

In that moment I felt how pitifully stupid these three years had made me.

I stepped toward my sister where she lay crumpled on the floor, wanting nothing now but to get her out of this place, past the guarded doors and the silent law that held them shut.

But Carmela still wasn't willing to let us go.

She was the one who had won, and yet the second I got my sister to her feet, she came toward us with the thermal container, all wounded innocence.

"Adriana, I'm so sorry... I really am, I never thought it would turn out like this. I know you hate me, but this is a little something I made for your mother. I hope you'll accept it for her..."

I lowered my head slowly and looked at the one who had sent my mother to her grave with her eyes still open.

In that instant something in me went past control.

I snatched the container straight out of her hands and slammed it down on her head.

The next second the thick soup ran down from the top of her head, matting her hair into clumps, the smell of meat tangled with shampoo turning my stomach.

My eyes were bloodshot. I screamed, "Get out! Stop playing the saint in front of me!"

Salvatore had been watching me the whole time, the warning hard in his eyes. The room had gone still, the way a room does when a Don has not yet decided.

The instant I moved, he was already across the floor and on me.

His shoe drove hard into my stomach.

Then he hurried to pull Carmela into his arms, wiping the soup from her hair with the sleeve of a shirt that cost more than most men earned in a year.

My lower back hit the wall hard, and I slid weakly down it to the floor.

By the time most of the mess was cleaned off her, Carmela's face was wet with tears.

Salvatore tore the dirtied shirt off and threw it aside.

He stepped forward, bent down, and gripped my face, hard enough that the bone of my jaw felt close to cracking.

He had just raised his hand when Carmela spoke through her tears.

"Salvatore, don't be angry, it's all my fault. I saw that your mother's travel papers were fake, so I thought she'd get here later. If I'd known she'd come like this, I'd have started the soup earlier. It's my fault their wedding was ruined. It's only natural Adriana is upset..."

She pressed a fragile hand to her chest as she said it, a half-second after the words, and Lorenzo rushed to hand her another cloth, thoughtfully bringing a towel to dry her hair.

Hearing it, my eyes flooded red and my temple throbbed.

To save the money for my sister and me, my mother had given up her seat and taken the slow road instead.

In Carmela's mouth it became a scheming lie.

"Shut your mouth! You don't get to talk about my mother!"

The words were barely out when Salvatore's palm cracked across my face.

Blood seeped from my lip, a salty sweetness rising in my throat.

But he only roared, "You're the one who should shut up! Say one more word and I'll tear that mouth apart!"

"This fake union of yours, Carmela set the whole thing up for you. What gives you the right to shout at her?"

"What do you think you even are? If your mother knew you'd used her illness over and over as an excuse to push for this marriage, don't you think she'd have dropped dead on the spot?"

The fury on my face cracked.

What was left underneath was nothing but contempt.

Thinking of that cheap little chapel they'd thrown together for the blood-union, my lips twisted into a cold smile.

No wonder everything had been so slapdash.

So from the very beginning, Carmela had never intended for us to stand before the family and seal the pact at all.

Everything today had been her plan all along.

Seeing me silent, Salvatore actually thought I was repenting.

His voice was thick with disdain. "And to think Carmela went out of her way to arrange a proper ceremony to redo it for you, even pulled strings with the Family's own clinic to get your mother before a specialist. Looking at you now, I don't think there's any need."

"Apologize to Carmela right now, then take that sister of yours and get the hell out of my house!"

I grabbed his arm, my voice cold.

"Redo it? Don't you find yourself ridiculous? You could redo it ten thousand times and she'd ruin it ten thousand and one. We won't need it ever again. Let her hold a ceremony for the three of you instead. My sister and I aren't worthy of it!"

"Apologize? Not unless she kneels before my mother and kisses the floor to beg her forgiveness!"

The rage in his eyes ignited in an instant. The signet ring on his right hand went still beneath his thumb. He bit out each word through his teeth.

"Adriana, have I been too easy on you? Can't you understand plain speech?"

"This sham of a union is something you knelt and begged two days and a night to get! What, now you don't want it? Or are you afraid of being exposed, that your mother's illness was faked all along?"

"Three years ago she was dying, so you had to bind yourself to me. Three years later she's dying again, so you have to hold a ceremony. Your mother's a tough one to kill"

I never imagined he would turn my mother's illness into proof I'd married into the Family under false pretenses.

For a moment all the blood in me froze, and I clenched my fist with everything I had, my knuckles trembling.

"Shut up! You're not fit to mention my mother! You're not fit!"

"Salvatore, sever it. Sever the blood-union right now! I never want to see you again! The three of you cheating dogs can stay chained together for the rest of your lives!"

The instant he heard me say sever it again, both his hands clamped around my throat.

The pressure grew heavier, my face going purple.

Carmela had just finished picking the bits of food out of her hair. Seeing this, she rushed over and pulled at Salvatore's hands.

Salvatore couldn't bear to go against her. He let go just before I blacked out.

Carmela came toward me, tears of grievance brimming in her eyes.

When she bent down to help me up, my sister, who had just come to, shoved her away.

The push was too hard. Her hand struck the corner of the cabinet behind her, and she let out a muffled cry of pain.

Lorenzo immediately pulled her into his arms, lifting her hand to inspect the injury with aching tenderness.

Then he turned on my sister, the knuckles of one hand cracking against his palm, his voice furious.

"You never learn your lesson, do you? I've clearly let you get away with too much! Now you've learned to threaten people with severing it. Fine, then severed it is! I've had enough of your mother's three-year act! If she dies with her eyes still open, that's no business of mine!"

Salvatore's face had gone as dark as it could get.

I had just pulled my sister to her feet and was limping toward the door when I heard him grind out:

"Can't you hear me? The two of you, apologize to Carmela!"

Everything that had just happened had crushed the last shred of hope in me.

Hearing his voice now, I only sneered. "We're nothing to each other anymore. Who are you to make me apologize? The one who should apologize is this bitch who'll make my mother die with her eyes open!"

"No, the three of you are exactly as low as each other. A famiglia made in heaven, really!"

I had just stepped through the door when Salvatore seized the back of my neck and yanked me back.

My sister couldn't reach me in time, her face frantic.

Salvatore forced me down to kneel in front of Carmela, his shoe pressing hard into my shin so I couldn't move.

He dialed his right hand while he threatened me.

"Apologize now, or I won't mind giving your mother a funeral while she's still alive!"

The call had gone through, and the threat in his eyes only grew heavier. The ring on his finger no longer turned. In a room full of his men, no one drew a breath.

I clenched my teeth and spat at him.

The next second, he said coldly, "Cancel the whole ceremony. Turn it into a funeral for Adriana's mother instead! She's dragged this out three yearsnow I'll make her really die! Cancel the appointment Carmela arranged at the clinic too!"

The voice on the other end answered at once. "Don Marchetti, Miss Russo's mother has already passed away. At the ceremony this morning"