Unholy Matrimony (Unedited)

15

N.

"When you get married will you still make music?" The question was innocent, coupled with my brothers wide eyes as he gazed at me in genuine curiosity.
I exhaled, moving my hand to run through his silky strands. "I don't know, bubs." I watched at his eyebrows furrowed first, followed by his mouth bending into a frown.
My answer seemed to upset him more than he already was and my heart sank deeper, if possible.

Isaac had been sneaking into my room in the early hours of the morning since he was six, he'd climb into my bed and we lay side by side staring at each other as I answered all his questions.
Questions about things you wouldn't even think he noticed or have interest in.

The first morning he had did it, he had just began being introduced to the family business. I had watched him look at me for a long time before he said; "Do you remember your mom?" Isaac was always quiet while I answered, no matter how long it took for me to find one.

"Will you still help me with my math studies?" He pulled my blanket higher on his shoulders, tucking it into his chin and neck before yawning loudly. His nose scrunching in the process and I huffed out a laugh.
"Yeah, I will. Go to sleep bubs." I rubbed his back until my little brothers snores echoed off my walls.
The sun was beginning to peak through my curtains, slightly hazed with thick fog and the clouds above looked heavy with a possibility of rain.

Letting Isaac sleep I slipped out of my bed, unconsciously glancing at my phone on the night stand. Shaking my head at myself, blinking at the brightness of my bathroom lights as I flicked them on.

I Hadn't heard from him again after our brief conversation, I had re-reading Aída Cartagena Portalatín poems until my eyes couldn't keep themselves open anymore.
I wasn't worried.
"You don't even know him." My reflection was looking at me with an unimpressed expression as I talked to myself around my tooth brush.
Scrubbing over my face with warm water I groan out loud, scrubbing at my face with frustration with my towel.
My days were dragging by before I could fully grasp what's happening around me.
I've known my whole life my father was something crafted of pure greed. When my mother died, I quickly learned my place, I was a pawn.
For years I remained obedient, quiet and living as below my fathers radar as possible. Granite the cello was all I had left of my mother, my fathers control over that killed anything joyful about playing.

Now, even that was enough to saturate him. I was to marry a man whose first name was something lost to me. From an entirely different culture on another part of the globe, and for something so minuscule as money.
My throat burned with choked tears and my stomach sloshed with nausea. I gasped, physically resisting the urge to throw up as tears threatened to spill.
I pushed myself upward, pulling my hair out of my face with a clip as I gasped again, forcing my lungs to function properly and wiping quickly at the traitorous tears.

"Miss Nalani? I-I'm sorry but you weren't answering your door-" Carla was my nanny first and now she was the head maid of our household although she still spent a lot of her time taking care of me.

"No it's okay, I couldn't hear over the water." I shut the facet off, forcing the muscles in my face to fall neutral.
Carla doesn't pry, pulling her hands in front of her, clasping her hands as she nodded. "Yes well, you have a visitor waiting for you in the living room. I can take master Isaac to his chambers while you get ready."

I shake my head, "It's fine, you can let him rest. I'll be down shortly." She nodded, my room door clicking shut in her leave and I sigh. My shoulders collapsing, there was no need in asking who it was, the only constant visitor I had these days was my fiancé.

Annoyed he'd come at this ungodly hour. I left my hair in the claw clip and rubbed on chapstick before moving to my closet, remembering the oncoming rain, I opt for a long legged and sleeved emerald green romper with black booted heels.
Slipping on my usual bracelets and earrings, the gold shimmering in the dim light made me smile inside. My mother always only wore gold jewelry, it made her look like other worldly, like a goddess.

"Lani?" Angelo is patrolling the hall as I close my door gently, trying to keep from waking Isaac.
I sighed, almost wishing I had waited ten seconds later before leaving my room.
"I don't have time Angelo, I have to go."
My eyes roll skyward as he grips my wrist, a hurt look sliding across his face.
"Look i'm sorry, I-can we talk when you get back?" I pull my wrist from his grasp, looking anywhere but him.
I shrug, feeling awkward. "I gotta go, I'll see you later." I walk down the hall as fast as possible, pausing when I reach the top to take a breathe.

This would all be so much easier if Don Bianchi was ugly, or if he had bad breath or body odor, maybe then my body wouldn't warm up as if my entire being was blushing like a teenage girl.
He was simply sitting in the living room, past the arch way I can see the hard look on his face as he typed hardly on his phone, muttering to himself in Italian.

"Don Bianchi! Good morning, I did not expect to see you here so early." I yanked back up the steps at the sound of Selene's voice, it sounded like she came from the dining room and I rolled my eyes, imagining she was wearing what Selene passed as underwear with was something a wife would wear for her husband on their honeymoon, a silky singlet that she kept one strap always hanging off her shoulder. She had dressed like that since she turned sixteen and my fathers men started to notice her.

"Unfortunately, this is the roof my wife resides under, thus, my presence." His deep voice seemed an octave lower, the bite in his tone made me flinch.

"Right." Was Selene response, spat with bitterness. "You know, she's always been a sheltered girl I can guarantee she is not cut out to be the wife of a Don, she doesn't have-" she paused and I could feel her smirk, "the expertise."

I leaned back against the wall, my body feeling hot, pricking with anticipation in his response.

"I have never killed a woman, it is against my morals, despite what rumors your type seems to fester on. However, as of late morals and values have all become nothing when it comes to the subject of my wife."

There's a dangerous pause, chills have ricocheted through my body.

"Disrespect her again, even in a backhand insult to yourself, I'll make her a Tennis bracelet from your jaw bones."