The Bloody Bride (The Rocchetti Dynasty) Read online

  But beneath that I also had the undeniable feeling that keeping my life as a Rocchetti a secret was for the best.

  Alessandro’s words he spoke to me on our wedding night rang through my ears. He was right, it was in my best interest to keep quiet.

  I could’ve told Cat, I thought. Cat would never tell anybody anything about me. She would’ve kept my secrets.

  Chapter Five

  When Papa saw me, he stretched his arms wide and gave me a tight squeeze.

  “Ah, bambolina, I am glad to see you are recovered.”

  “Of course, Papa.” I kissed his cheek. “Are you well?”

  Papa stepped aside and ushered me further into the house. It was so quiet and dark—but it was just him and the housekeeper living here at the moment.

  It had only been a few days since I had moved out, and yet as I looked around the walls and photos I had known all my life, it could’ve been a century.

  I certainly felt as if I had aged one hundred years.

  “It’s so quiet. Is Dita here?”

  Papa looked around as if he wasn’t sure who was or wasn’t in the house. “I don’t think so. What’s the day today? It might be her day off.”

  “It’s Tuesday, Papa. Sunday is her day off.” I gave him a friendly smile so he didn’t feel like I was teasing him.

  Papa and I sat in the main living area, where the fire was crackling. I never understood why Papa didn’t just have a heater installed, but the man was nothing if not set in his ways. But the fire lost my interest when I ran my eyes over the family photos.

  A photo of Cat and I caught my attention. I was dressed in my cheerleaders outfit and Cat was holding up a certificate. We were both smiling brightly at the camera, eyes gleaming.

  “She was always so smart, wasn’t she?” Papa said wistfully.

  I glanced at him. “She was.”

  It was true. Cat had been on every academic team she could find and excelled at all areas of learning. I, however, had never been able to sit quietly in a classroom and learn something.

  Cat had gotten into a lot of colleges in her senior year. I remember being surprised she had applied—college wasn’t in the cards for us. We were to be wives, then mothers, then grandmothers. But she had been insistent on going to college. She had even tried to get me to apply.

  I didn’t tell any of this to Papa.

  And for all her bravery, neither had she.

  “Tell me how married life is treating you.” Papa said eventually.

  I smiled. “Fine.”

  “The Rocchetti’s are good to you?”

  “Of course.”

  His eyes, the same eyes as mine, surveyed me. “You are behaving yourself?”

  Was I? “Papa, of course, I am.”

  “Because I may put up with all your talking but your husband might not…” He warned.

  I tried to smile in thanks. “I know, I know. And for that reason alone, I might have to talk your ear off.”

  Papa shook his head but didn’t seem angry with me. “What are they like? The Rocchetti’s?”

  What a strange question. “You know them, Papa. Far better than I.”

  “You live in their house. Sleep under their roof.” He shrugged. “I am interested. What are his people like? Alessandro’s?”

  “You are one of his people, Papa.”

  “I am one of Salvatore’s people.” Answered my father. A switch seemed to of turn in him. No longer was he the old disapproving man who I called Papa, but now he seemed more animated. Harsher. A soldati of the Outfit.

  I forced my body to relax. “I have not met a lot of his people. Only Oscuro and Beppe. Business does not usually come home with Alessandro.”

  “Men like Alessandro are the business.” Papa said curtly. “Oscuro? Beppe? What are they like?”

  “Oscuro is my bodyguard and is very good at his job—he’s outside right now if you wish to meet him. I only met Beppe briefly, but he seemed very polite.” I scanned my father’s harsh expression. “I did not realise I was a spy.”

  Papa snapped his eyes to me and scowled. “You are no such thing. I am merely making sure my daughter is taken care of.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t realise.”

  Why was Papa so interested? Perhaps he truly did want to know if I was being cared for—or perhaps he wanted more information on the infamous Rocchetti’s. I knew when I got married that Papa would benefit from being so close to the Don and his family, but I assumed business would just be better.

  Papa and I talked further about the losses that occurred at the wedding. He did not mention Alessandro or the Rocchetti’s again but their name hung over us. The only time he hinted towards them was when he told me it was a shame I hadn’t gotten a wedding reception.

  “You don’t mind if I grab some things from my bedroom?” I asked when it was time to go.

  He waved me off. “Go ahead.”

  The house I had grown up in had changed slowly over the years, and always at the hands of myself. Sometimes our stepmothers would try to change things around, but within hours, the house would snap back into place. They never lasted long enough to make a real impact.

  Cat and I spent our girlhood running around these halls, hiding between the curtains and using these windows to peer out to the gardens below. It had been our hide and seek playground, our castle, our prison.

  Our bedrooms were next to each other. I paused in front of hers but then stepped into mine.

  My bedroom had boxes sprawled around the place, but other than that, it hadn’t really changed. The sheets were tangled, the desk was covered in crap. Makeup covered every available service and my beloved porcelain doll—named Dolly—rested in her usual spot above the bed. In every crack and corner, photos were glue-tacked.

  Photos of Cat and I, my friends and my family. There was even one of my mother. She was looking beautiful, with me dressed in my Christening outfit on her lap. I was a spitting image of my father, so much so that I could pretend my mother had never existed. I didn’t remember her—and Papa never spoke of her.

  I plucked the photo and folded it in half. It felt like a betrayal to the mystery woman to leave her in this quiet house alone with my father.

  I packed up another box filled with clothes and stuff I was missing. At the last moment, I took my beloved Dolly and some photos from the walls.

  A photo of Cat and I made me pause. In this one we weren’t dressed in our school uniforms, but instead in beautiful gowns. I wore a long red gown, whereas Cat had donned a silver one. Both of us stood in front of a Christmas tree, clutching to each other and laughing. Like the camera had caught us in the middle of a joke.

  That was the last photo we had taken together, I realised suddenly. Cat had died the following March.

  I carefully picked up the photo and placed it in my box.

  On my way out, I paused in front of Cat’s room. I hadn’t stepped inside it for nearly two years, and neither had Papa. I wasn’t even sure if it was packed up.

  I placed down my box.

  Now I was married, it made sense that Papa could go through our bedrooms and clear them. After all, why waste two perfectly good bedrooms?

  Cat had never minded me strolling into her room—well, at the end she had. Growing up, she hadn’t. But I remembered walking into her room without knocking and her shrieking at me to get out.

  She was probably masturbating, I mused. I probably would’ve shrieked at me too.

  I pressed my hands lightly to the knob. I don’t know why I felt like I was breaking the rules.

  That’s ridiculous, I thought. Cat’s dead. She won’t be mad if you go into her room and save some of her stuff.

  I swung open the door.

  A thin layer of dust covered all the surfaces, but other than that, the room could’ve been frozen in time. Her bed was unmade, her books stacked messily on her bedside table. Clothes and shoes were sprawled on the floor. Even her used tissues in her bin remained.

  I stepped in an
d took a deep breath.

  It still smelt like her. Her fresh lavender scent that she had refused to change.

  Tears rose to my eyes and I quickly wiped them away. There was no use crying now.

  What could I take? Most of the photos on her wall were copies and it felt rude to take her clothes from her.

  On her bed, an identical doll to the one I owned rested. The biggest difference was that my doll had a pink dress whereas Cat’s had a blue one. We had gotten them from our grandfather when we were very young and been delighted to have identical dolls. Cat had named hers Maria Cristina, whereas I only called mine Dolly.

  I brushed the dust off the doll’s fine face and then picked it up.

  If you have daughters, you could give the dolls to them, I thought suddenly.

  Though having daughters was nothing a mafia woman to aspired to, I felt slightly comforted in the knowledge that one day these dolls would be looked after by two sisters once more.

  When I came back downstairs, Papa was in the same spot in the living room. He took one look at the box in my arms and shook his head disapprovingly.

  Before he could tell me off, the phone rang.

  “I’ll get it.” I placed the box down and hurried over to the phone. Papa refused to use a mobile phone exclusively. “Padovino Residence. Sophia talking.”

  “Ah, my lovely granddaughter-in-law. Just who I was hoping to talk to.”

  My heart sped up. “Don Piero.”

  Don Piero gave a hearty laugh on the other end. “Indeed.”

  “How can I help you?” I hurried.

  “I hear you’re at your father’s and hope you can drop by before you go back into the city.” Nothing about his tone suggested I had much of a choice.

  “Of course.” I gushed. “I am leaving my father’s now.”

  “Brilliant. I shall see you soon.” Don Piero hung up.

  I drew the phone away from my ear, half in shock. Don Piero, the Boss of Bosses, wanted to see me. Alone. I wouldn’t have my father or husband to be there to take his attention off me.

  I swallowed against my dry throat.

  “You'd better go.” Came Papa’s voice. He was staring at the phone in my hand like it was a snake. “Before he comes looking for you.”

  When he had hit the age of retirement, Don Piero had moved out of the city and into a huge house on an impressive stretch of land. He was still the Boss of the Outfit, but everyone knew his oldest son, Toto the Terrible, was the acting boss of the family. Don Piero gave the commands and his son saw them out.

  Oscuro pulled up outside the impressive mansion.

  Don Piero had purchased the old Federal Colonial mansion in my lifetime and I remember Papa pointing it out whenever we drove pass. I remembered thinking it was the most beautiful house I had ever seen, but now it seemed big and imposing and too grand to house such a man with dirty hands.

  The mansion was huge, with its white walls visible through the vines growing up from the ground, pass the windows and to the roof. A grand curved staircase led up to the huge front door, and ornamental windows fanned out on each side of the house, paralleling each other.

  How could he live by himself in such a large house? I wondered. Though perhaps it was constantly filled with Outfit members and staff.

  Before I could ask Oscuro about the mansion’s inhabitants, the front door opened and Don Piero stepped outside to greet me. He was dressed in a khakis and a sweater, making him look more like a kind old grandpa than a murderous tyrant.

  For a man who had been shot forty-eight hours ago, he looked remarkably well.

  Standing by his feet was a large black Cane Corso with a collar decorated with little spikes.

  I stepped out of the car and smiled in greeting.

  “Ah, Sophia,” he said in greeting. “I am so glad you could make it.”

  “Thank you for having me.”

  Don Piero kissed me on the cheek before ushering me into the warm house, the dog following. Inside was just as grand as the exterior, with a huge chandelier and shining marble floors. Huge paintings decorated the halls and countless artefacts decorated the surfaces.

  I firmly believed most of it was stolen.

  Don Piero held my upper arm. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the men he had killed with those hands. “How are you, my dear?” He asked as he led me into the sitting room. A maid was waiting by the tea and began pouring when we entered.

  Above the fireplace, there was a huge painting of a beautiful woman.

  “I am well, sir. And you?”

  “Healthy as a horse.” He sat me down on one of the couches before taking the one opposite. The huge dog surveyed me for a moment before collapsing onto his belly by the Don’s feet. “Your father?”

  I smiled at the maid as she passed me a cup of tea. “Thank you.” To Don Piero I said, “He is good.”

  “I imagine he misses having you around.”

  “I would like to think so.”

  Don Piero grinned. “Indeed. And my grandson? I hope he’s been on his best behaviour.”

  How strange, I noted, I just had this near exact conversation with my father. Perhaps Don Piero also wanted to know what it was like in Alessandro’s private life. But then again, Don Piero could probably command Alessandro to tell him. I’m sure he didn’t need me to shed some light.

  But then why the warning from Alessandro those nights ago?

  You are in a very informative position, wife. Going in between the Don and I is not in your best interest.

  “Of course.” I smiled and took a sip of my tea.

  Don Piero’s dark eyes roamed over me. For all his politeness, he was still not a man to be crossed, and I could feel him playing with me.

  I gave him my best dumb smile and gestured to the painting above the fireplace. “Who is the beautiful lady?”

  His eyes softened fractionally. “Ah, my Nicoletta.”

  Nicoletta Rocchetti had been Don Piero’s wife and mother to Salvatore and Enrico Rocchetti. Grandmother to Alessandro. She had died before I had been born, but for all the talk of her, she may as well never existed.

  “I can see where the boys get their looks from.” I told him.

  Don Piero smiled. “Not from me?”

  I couldn’t really tell if he was joking so I hurriedly said, “And from you, sir.” For a stupid moment, his friendliness had made me forget who he was.

  Don’t forget it again, I warned myself.

  Don Piero took another sip from his tea. “I was thinking of redoing your wedding reception. I know how much you women love weddings and it seems a shame you didn’t get to enjoy yours.”

  Attack or not, I probably would not of enjoyed the wedding. I smiled in thanks. “That is very kind of you. But please don’t inconvenience yourself over me.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “Receptions are just a chance to get roaringly drunk.”

  Don Piero laughed. “Indeed, they are.” His dark eyes searched me. “And your lovely wedding dress was ruined. Before we got any photos.”

  “I wouldn’t mind another one of those.” I replied.

  “Of course you wouldn’t.” He mused. “However, I don’t know the first thing about wedding dress. So I got you another present.”

  I started. “Sir, you don’t have to get me anything. If anyone should receive a present, it should be you for accepting me into the family.”

  Don Piero waved away my words. His eyes gleamed. “Nonsense.” He turned his head. “Anna! Bring in Sophia’s gift.”

  God, what had he gotten me? Was it someone’s head? A machete? Half of me expected Alessandro to walk out and Don Piero to tell me we were redoing my wedding.

  An old woman stepped into the room, who must be Anna, and in her arms was…

  “A puppy!” I gasped, half-delighted, half-shocked.

  Don Piero rose and took the little puppy from Anna’s hands. His own dog lifted his head in interest and bared his teeth every so slightly. “One of my best bitch’s pups.” Don Piero said. �
�A Volpino Italiano. Perfect dog for a woman. Unlike my Lupo.”

  The pup was small and white, and very fluffy. It looked almost like a snowball, with tiny little ears and nose. Around the pup’s neck was a blue ribbon.

  Don Piero passed it to me and I gasped in delight. “Oh, thank you so much! They’re adorable.” I scratched the puppy’s belly. “Are you not the cutest thing in the world?”

  “See, Anna, I told you she would like it.” Don Piero grinned down at me. “Perfect little dog. I know Alessandro does not have a big space but this type of dog will be fine.”

  I held the pup to my chest. He wiggled in my arms but didn’t seem upset. “Sir, thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it, my dear.” Don Piero sat down once more. There seemed to be something slightly predatory about his expression. “Lovely little energetic breed. They are good with children, as well.”

  I smiled. The mention of children dampened my mood.

  Don Piero and I spoke for a good hour. It felt like a chess game, trying to make strategic moves so I did not loose my life. He was polite and friendly, but I knew beneath his exterior that he was calculating and bloodthirsty. I don’t know why he wanted to test me, to get me alone, until his more probing questions came along.

  “I hope Alessandro has been spoiling you.” He said. “A lovely young bride like you does not come along very often.”

  I did not reveal anything. “Of course. He has been very good to me.” He slept with me once and hasn’t been back. “He even gave me his credit card.” Oscuro held onto it.

  “Ah, the makings of a good marriage.” Don Piero took another sip of his tea. “I hope he doesn’t have his friends over and stinking up your house. If he is still acting like a bachelor, I could surely say something for you.” I scratched the pup’s ear. He was asleep on my lap. Some of his white fur had gotten caught on my dress and I brushed it off. “He hasn’t brought a single friend home and all his staff have been beyond polite. But thank you. If he starts to play up, I’ll give you a call.” I winked to show I was joking but Don Piero looked serious.