Touch in the Dark

Chapter Three

Sweat ran down my forehead causing wisps of my hair to curl as the car pulled to a stop at the front door of the Santoro residence. I had wanted the air conditioning unit to be dialed to a much cooler temperature, but had thought against it when I saw my driver occasionally shiver during the ride. I didn't know if it was because he was cold or nervous, but I didn't say anything. Moving to open my door, I stopped short as it was pulled back by one of the Capo's soldiers. A breeze blew through the opening sending a chill through my body as it cooled the sweat coating my skin. It was a balm for the heat that had settled in the car and I felt myself drifting- my thoughts following the direction of the wind.

I had forgotten what it was like to have simple things done for me after living alone for seven years. Things like a door being opened or a meal being cooked. I remembered the transition from being spoiled to learning how to do things on my own, as hard. It took about a year and a half to adapt and get into a routine that suited the way I had wanted to live my life as a newly independent woman. Having to make the conversion back to being dependent on someone else for simple things felt like a burden to do.

I stepped out of the car and draped my castleton-green blazer over my shoulders, running my hands down my matching coloured high-waisted pants to smooth out any wrinkles. If there was anything that I found hard to shake in the years that I'd been away from home, it would've been my love for lavish clothes and self-care dates.

Catrine stood next to her father, Gino Santoro- the Capo entrusted with overseeing Pennsylvania under the Casadei Famiglia. They hadn't appeared to have changed much since the last time I had seen them. Of course Catrine looked the same to me because I'd been consistently keeping in contact with her over the seven years and she'd been able to visit me a few times a year for a few hours. They were never enough but I'd taken them without complaint. Her father remained the same stony-faced man I remembered him as.

Catrine watched me with wide eyes and a small smile playing on her lips as I approached. Her fingers fidgeted with one another in excitement, and she raised one up to cover a factitious cough. I was aware that she wanted to run over and hug me, but she refused to do so in front of her father, lest he reprimand her for acting in an uncivilised manner in front of the Don's daughter.

A wave of loss hit me as I registered what my life would once more be like. One of high expectations and behaving the way that others wanted me to. It would be a life of duty and bowing to a man's rule over our society. Why were there only Made Men? Women were the backbone of our community. Of our Famiglia. They were the ones who kept us human. They kept us safe. They raised these made men as children only to be put back on the shelf when their job was done. And what did these men go and do? Empty out the love that had been poured into them in exchange for greed and violence. And they called it protection.

I thought of Papà. He had raised me after my mother died in a car accident, and he had raised me well. He'd allowed me to experience the world out from under the crutches of the mafia, yet he had also raised me in a way to recognise my duty. And I accepted it. But that didn't mean that I liked it. But at what point had Papà broken the cycle? I still knew of many Capos from his father's rule, who continue to treat their daughters as means for union only. They never allowed them to experience what life really entailed before performing their duty, and many never got to even after marriage.