Sold to Mr. Giordano

Arielle

Arabella never returned that night and I tried not to overthink it when nightmares kept me up. She might have just stayed at her parents mansion and she’s completely okay. I wondered if Luca was with her, it’s improper for an unmarried woman and a man to be in the same room alone. Our traditions don’t allow it, but Luca is a powerful man and he might have used his power against her parents’ wishes and tradition to spend the night with her.

The elevator opens downstairs at breakfast and Arabella enters looking exhausted and…

I notice bruises on her wrists and rush toward her. Up close I notice makeup on her face poorly covering up a black bruise under her eye.

“What did he do to you?” I spit disgusted.

Carmelo and Antonio stand from their seats in the kitchen and walk into the living area where Arabella and I are standing.

Her eyes look bloodshot as if she’s been crying all night. “The wedding is in four weeks. I thought since I went with you wedding dress shopping, you could come with me?” Her voice waivers. She tries her best to cover up her fear but it’s not working.

“We have to call this marriage off!” I shout.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

“Arielle,” Antonio says in a warning tone. “I told you, we are not calling the wedding off. It’ll start a war.”

“But he bea—”

Arabella grabs my arm cutting me off. “It’s okay, really. I’m just feeling a little down in the dumps. It’s got nothing to do with Luca.” She’s lying. She’s lying and putting on a false facade for my benefit I know it. “I think wedding dress shopping will be fun. I never did like the dress I wore at mine and Vinny’s wedding.” Her eyes water as she speaks her first husband’s name.

“Arabella,” I frown.

She shakes her head. “No, no. I’m fine. I would like some breakfast though. I’m starving.” She floats passed us, her face left unemotional and her eyes haunted with whatever happened last night.

I look toward Antonio and Carmelo. If I had to guess by the expression on my bodyguard’s face, I’d say he’s pretty pissed about what happened too. As for my husband, he wears the same stoic mask leaving his feelings and stance on the situation aloof.

We go to the exact wedding dress shop where I got my dress. Maria is at the store and claps her hands together when she sees the two of us.

“Bambina,” she cries out and hugs Arabella. “You are getting married or are you just visiting little old me?”

“Getting married,” Arabella tries her best to put on one of her famous smiles, but it is easy to see through.

“He must be a lucky man to have someone like you,” Maria grabs her chin and gives her an endearing look. The seamstress and owner of the wedding shop turns to me and smiles. “Arielle, has our Capo been treating you right? You look positively glowing.”

”

I guess as right as a Capo can treat a woman,” I swallow hard.

“Come, let’s look for our dear Bella’s dress,” she leads us over to rack of expensive white dresses made with material imported from Italy.

Arabella’s eyes momentarily light up and then she frowns. “Uhm, do you have anything off white? I’m not exactly fit to wear a pure white dress when this is my second wedding.” The words didn’t seem like hers as if she was reading off a script.

Or remembering someone else’s words.

I gasp. “Is that what Luca told you?”

She gives me a wary look but doesn’t confirm or deny anything. “I think off white would be best for this wedding.”

“Of course my dear, I have some over here.”

We follow Maria but it seems as though Arabella’s heart is no longer in it. She continues to eye this one beautiful white dress with a lacy design, long train, and a sweetheart neckline.

“Why don’t you get that one?” I say softly.

“I couldn’t,” she shakes her head adamantly. “Off white.”

“Maria,” I call to her. “Is there any chance you could make this dress with off white material?”

“When is the wedding?” She cocks her head.

“Four weeks,” I say and wince knowing that is not enough time.

“Four weeks?!” Maria shouts and we both look over at Arabella who is on the verge of tears again. “I’ll do it. But I must start right away. Let me take your measurements,” she takes the measuring tape that was wrapped around her neck like scarf, off and begins to jot down Arabella’s sizing. “I will do my best. You will make a beautiful bride,” she kisses both of her cheeks and then shoo’s us away. “Ciao.”

“The dress really is beautiful, I actually kind of like the off white color,” I place my hand on Arabella’s back to comfort her as we walk down the street with Carmelo trailing a foot behind.

“You don’t need to lie to me. Everyone loves a bride in white. Off white just looks… dirty—tainted.”

“Is that what he called you? Arabella you aren’t dirty! You aren’t tainted either!” I stop in my tracks and stomp my foot at the outrageous accusation.

She shakes her head and sniffles. “No, he’s right. Men like Luca expect a prize on their wedding night. Virginity—it’s what they all look forward to and I lost mine with Vinny. I’m his defective bride. I’m no prize,” she shies away and it infuriates me because she’s never once been self-conscious since the moment I met her.

Carmelo lets out a low growl. “That man is a bastard. You most certainly are a prize. Virginity is a meaningless onetime thing. I know I would rather want my first time with my new bride to be pleasurable rather than painful.”

Her cheeks blush slightly but she continues to stare at the ground instead of meeting his eyes. “Thanks, Carmelo. It doesn’t matter anyways.”

“Of course it matters! He’s making you believe something that isn’t true. You are not dirty and I’m sure your first time together he’ll be too engrossed in his own pleasure to even remember that you have had sex before,” I argue.

“Don’t you see?! He was so made that he wasn’t the first to have me and he thinks that because I’ve had sex before I’m robbing him of a tight virgin. He-he said he wanted to ‘test drive’ me to make sure I’m good enough to fit his needs in our marriage.”

I blink rapidly at her not being able to comprehend a single word said. “Did he…”

“Like I said if doesn’t matter. Either way I had to give myself to him on our wedding night. Who cares?”

“I care!” I shout. “H-he took you without permission. He did something he wasn’t supposed to do!”

“He’s my fiancé! He said that I belong to him and he can do whatever he wants. There’s nothing you can do. You can tell Antonio all you want but he will say the same thing—the wedding is in four weeks so it really doesn’t matter. Do you want to know why it doesn’t matter because virginity is saved for the wedding night and I do not have mine so it didn’t matter that he took me last night!” She sobs.

“This isn’t right,” Carmelo’s eyebrows are knit together in frustration and anger. His voice is low and lethal. “I want to kill him.”

“Carmelo don’t say such things, if Antonio or Luca found out you said something like that they would kill you or you’d be demoted,” Arabella places her hand on his bicep to calm him.

Carmelo grumbles and curses under his breath. Since my engagement it seems to have just been the three of us going places and from that we have built a friendship. Even though he’s my bodyguard I have come to trust and care for him. I tell him things and he’s able to say certain things without fear that I would tell my husband or brother. Carmelo and I have developed trust and him and Arabella have also seemed to build another aspect of their relationship  together.

It won’t be a trio anymore when Arabella leaves, it’ll be just Carmelo and I and as much as I care for him—he’s no Arabella and he’s also a man of very few words. Not exactly the best for conversation and gossiping. But I know I can always count on him to sit in the living room and enjoy a marathon of my favorite shows and movies.

Still, things won’t be the same and my heart aches at the thought of losing my best friend. My family and New York has taken so much from me and it seems they will continue to take from me until I have nothing left. Even now when I try to build ties to my family like calling my mother—she refuses to speak to me.