ALANA

05

ALANA

"Which dress do you choose Mam?" Mrs. Fiore asks me.

I feel dazed and completely overwhelmed. Yesterday, I meant nothing. No one paid attention to me or asked me anything. Today, I am being polished and prepped and dressed for an engagement party.

My engagement party.

A celebration the whole Mafia is going to celebrate. The marriage of the future Don. I cannot help but be dryly amused at my own unrelenting bad luck.

It was bad enough that I was going to marry a Made Man. Who would be exactly like my father. But now, I would be marrying a Don.

I can't imagine how much worse it will be. And to think he caught me crying and I told him to leave the room. A Don! I am sure he will be planning my punishment.

I look back at Mrs. Fiore and the dresses she has displayed for me. They have come from my soon to be in laws and I am to pick one to wear tonight.

"They are all so beautiful, but so revealing" I frown.

The necklines are all plunging and the slits too high. The thought of hundreds of people looking at me in one of these dresses is so nerve wracking.

"Well you must pick one child, the Donna has personally sent them over." she says looking at them, as if assessing the truth to my statement.

The least revealing one is a dark red corset dress, with a strapless neckline. The slit isn't too high and it looks like the most modest option. Not modest by my standards, but perhaps this is what is appropriate to wear to ones own Engagement.

I wouldn't know. I have never even attended someone else's engagement.

I heave a sigh.

"Is this one alright?" I ask her and she smiles.

"Sí, looks beautiful your bust will fill zis out nicely." she says casually making me flush red.
I have a bigger chest than most. I mean it is only a C cup but seeing others around me, I would agree that it is larger.

The day goes on with me being pulled and prodded by stylists, and makeup artists as they style me to the perfect bride for the perfect wedding.

Except none of this was perfect. This isn't what a marriage was supposed to be. I did not even know my husbands name.

I wish I could slip away into my own minds world. My mind that paints the most beautiful pictures when I read words on a page. It is heartbreaking to know that the romances written in books are just that, words on paper.

Sighing, I look at myself in the mirror, trying to find any trace of happiness in my eyes. All I find is the excruciating pain that had been there as long as I could remember.

"You look absolutely gorgeous, Mam." Brielle gushes looking at me with admiration. I smile at her, looking back into the mirror.

My hair is curled, some pieces frame my face in the front. My makeup looks beautiful, it is just enough, nothing obnoxious.

I usually wear a little concealing powder at all times, just around the bridge of my nose. It is because I have these small freckles there, on my nose, that I am told are ugly, so I like to keep them covered.

My shoes are tall heels and I am very afraid I will fall and embarrass myself but it is a risk I have to take.

Mrs. Fiore knocks and enters the room then gasps.

"Ah, bellisima, bellisima ragazza." She squeals patting my cheek. "Your father has told me to tell you that the Donna has sent for you. The car awaits outside cara, the rest of your family will reach soon after you." she informs.
(Beautiful, beautiful girl.)

I feel a pit form in my stomach and panic begins to rise in me.

"But, I have to go alone? I couldn't possibly, I do not even know anyone there!" I say to her but she shakes her head.

The thought that I do not know anyone here either, and that I always feel alone enters my head.

"Oh, you will be fine, dolcezza. Now come on, affrettarsi." She rushes me and soon, I am sitting in a big, black car with an identical one following behind, and 2 armed men in the front.
(Sweetheart. -- Hurry up.)

I nervously play with my hands as I look around the space. I never leave the house. I am not allowed to go anywhere unless father says other wise. Katrina and Stepmother go out shopping but I am not allowed that either.

Ever since I was little, she told me that I shouldn't waste money on clothes since I am fat, and they would not look good anyway. It's true, my dresses all get specially made and I get 3 every month.

I once said how I do not look much bigger than Katrina which resulted in me being locked away in the old room. Stepmother told me that Katrina is taller, so she can not look fat like I do.

I am broken out of my thoughts when the car stops at a checking post infront of huge, black gates. I remember reading about the Iron curtain. This is how I imagined it.

The gates soon open to reveal a huge palace like structure. The moldings are all old, they are undeniably belonging to ancient Roman designs and look like something out of a fairy tale. The building is a light color but intimidating nonetheless.

I had heard tales of the House of the GodFather. The Estates have been built over centuries, they have existed as long as the Cosa Nostra itself. The house is where the Moretti Don presides.

The Estates are designed to be impenetrable. Nothing has ever hurt a Moretti within these boundaries.

The car soon stops and the men climb out, one of them opens my door just as a woman comes forward to help me out of the car.

"Benvenuto a Casa Del Padrino Mrs. Moretti" She says making me stare at her open mouthed. She gives me an incredulous look, making me quickly regain my composure and nod, fixing my dress to brush off my embarrassment.
(Welcome to the House of the Godfather, Mrs. Moretti)

Mrs. Moretti.
Thats me.
Oh god.

Dio, Alana. Pull it together.

The woman leads me inside and through a maze of beautiful and intricate hallways, then stops before a heavy looking mahogany door, and knocks.

It is only a wonder what surprises await me on the other side.