Mafia Darling

27 | Ella

News has already hit home base. When I walk through the mansion door, I'm showered with congratulations and kisses and hugs. A wedding planner has already been hired; it will be a small affair, but it will be quite an affair.

When I'm done being whisked around, I find myself alone for a moment. Immediately, I search for Bella. I find her alone, in the kitchen, preparing a dessert, but I can't even begin to guess who it's for.

She glances up when she hears the door close behind me. "Congratulations on the engagement," she says.

It feels like a spike through my heart. She's trying to sound happy, but the hollowness...the judgement, it comes through clear as day. 

"You think this is wrong," I say.

She clears her throat, faltering. "I didn't say that."

I shuffle my feet awkwardly. At least she isn't referring to me as ma'am or Miss Laurent. "You said you wouldn't judge me for liking Marco," I say quietly.

She freezes. "I'm not judging you. I swear."

I swallow the lump in my throat, unwilling to lose my only friend. "Then why do you sound so...conflicted?"

Bella stares at her little cake for a long time. "I just...I wish your plan had worked, that's all," she says softly. "I wish you could've gotten away."

I squeeze my eyes shut to keep myself from transporting to those memories. The kitchen air, unheated by cooking, sends chills rippling over my flesh. I feel exposed, raw, and I take a deep breath until the feeling subsides, and I'm left with the resignation I've already accepted.

"You think I'm too good for this life," I say finally, opening my eyes, "but I'm not. I got a man killed."

Bella freezes, and I can tell that she still doesn't know what happened when I ran away. She doesn't ask for the story, though, and accepts it as it is.

"It's too late for me," I continue. "I've fallen off my high horse. I'm content to be a mafia wife."

"If that's what you want," Bella says, a little more at ease than earlier, "then I'm happy for you. Truly." She finishes icing the cake, places a cherry on top, and holds it out to me. "This is for you. Congratulations."

My heart swells. "You really mean it?"

She smiles. "I do."

"Good. Because I want you to be my maid of honor."

Bella almost drops the cake. I reach out to steady her hands on the plate, and she stares at me, mouth dropped.

"You've been so kind to me," I say. "I wouldn't have lasted a day in this place if it wasn't for you."

"Are...are you sure?" she mumbled. "I...I'm still a maid. I don't think having a literal maid be the maid of honor is a good look for the Corleone family."

"You're not going to be there for the Corleone's," I say. "You'll be there for a Laurent. I have no one to bring. The entire guest list is going to be Corleone's and their friends, so I have a right to choose my maid of honor, no matter what you are to them."

Bella's lips quirk up in a smile. "Damn, you're feisty. No one wonder Marco likes you." She laughs, and it sounds as beautiful as when I first heard it. "Alright, I'll be your maid of honor, Ella."

It's the first time she called me Ella since I left. I put the cake aside on the table and pull her into a hug, and though she laughs at first, she returns the embrace, squeezing me close.