The Darkest Shade Of Black - An Arranged Marriage Dark Mafia Romance

CHAPTER IX: White Dungeon

"Marriage succeeds only as lifetime commitment with no escape clauses."
–Dr. James Dobson

I'm surrounded by white, the color I've dreaded my whole life.
Not exactly because of this moment.
White is the one color I never use.

White is a bitch.
Blood is a fucking nightmare to get out of something white, I'd go as far as saying it's impossible. But Mariana once got a blood stain out of my school uniform. If it hadn't been traumatic, it would be impressive. She left it whiter, then it ever had been.

Anyway, everything is white.
White, white, white.
White dresses, white shoes, white veils.
The changing room's walls are white, the doors are white, even the pillars are white.

I'm standing in front of the mirror wearing a very white gown, it's long sleeved, with a high neck, it's obviously made for a taller person, the hem drags so much if I'm not careful I'm gonna step on it and face-plant, the torso is completely covered in rhinestones. It's a beautiful dress but it isn't me.

Mother said, and I quote, "that horrendous thing has to be covered," referring to the ink, of course.

The only thing of color here is my flaming red hair, which only serves to remind me why I don't wear white.

I gather the skirt and turn around, I make a face, we've been at this for at least half an hour, every dress they like I despise and the ones I can manage Mother hates, I take a deep breath to gather patience and exit the room.

Mother, Cianna, Agnesca, Francesca, Valesca, and poor Elettra are talking amongst themselves. She must be wondering which capital sin she committed to deserve this hell. Vittoria is leaning against a pillar. She gives me a tight smile and shakes her head. Her mom is the only one missing, she must have gone to the bathroom.

"I think that's the one." Mother screams excitedly.

"No, um, I dont.. no. " I stammer.

"Alexandra, it's this one." She states.

Something inside me snaps. "I have no say in this wedding, I'm gonna pick my own fucking dress, Mother"

"I don't think it goes with the wedding theme, Cinza" Elettra interjects.

Well, out of all my relatives the one person I don't share blood with is the only one on my side, great.

When I return to the changing room, Celeste, the nice lady who is helping me, hangs a few more dresses on the wall, she must be my age, maybe two or three years older.

"I thought you'd like these" She says and scurries away. I'd probably be afraid of the Capone women too, if I wasn't one of them.

I rummage through the dresses, until I find one with off the shoulder three quarter, lace sleeves, which makes them see trough, the dress itself is made of satin but the torso is covered in a layer of lace as well. I put it on, it has a little of a cleavage but my breasts are small so they're not spilling out, it hugs all my curves and then it starts flaring out, it has hundreds of tiny buttons that take me forever to button up, I can't reach the last four, but instead of calling Celeste I let them be, there's no need to torment someone else.

Mother will hate it.

I love it.

Turning around I -for the millionth time- gather the skirt in my hands, but unlike with the rest of them I don't make a face or take a deep breath, I don't need it, its this one.

When I exit the changing room, Mother looks like she will faint. "Oh, mio Dio, Alexandra. No, no, no. " She actually has the gall to start falling backward off the bench, Francesca, who is standing behind her, catches her and gives her a water bottle, Mother quietly thanks her.