He Said It Was A Prank

When I found the transfer notice, I was cleaning a trusty Beretta I had used for three years.

Enzo Vitelli and I had an agreement.

Once the family’s personnel changes were settled, we would get married.

We had made that promise four years ago.

I somehow turned out being transferred thousands of miles away, to Bellarosa.

If I had not made it a habit to check internal files myself, I would not have even had the chance to cancel it.

The phone rang for a long time before he answered.

Background noise filled the line. There was music and laughter from women.

“Oh, that,” Enzo said, like he was just talking about what to have for dinner. “Lucrezia just wanted to see how you’d react. She just wanted to see if you’d notice it yourself. She’s young. She was just playing around. Don't make a mountain out of a molehill. The deadline hasn’t passed yet, has it? Just explain it to the Commission and cancel the thing.”

I gripped the phone so hard my knuckles went white. “What if I hadn’t checked today? She abused her access. According to family rules, I could have her weighed down and dropped into the East River.”

Enzo’s tone went cold. “Amelia, when did you become so unreasonable? Are you going to kill her over a prank she made? Can’t you be a little kind, and a little more forgiving to her?”

He was getting worked up. His voice was rising. “How many times have I told you? She’s a young girl, and she’s barely of age. I am the Don of this family. What’s wrong with me looking out for her? Do you intend to hurt her? You’d have to go through me first.”

Then, without letting me answer, he hung up.

My name was Amelia Ross.

I had known Enzo Vitelli for eleven years. We had been together for six years.

He was my fiance. He was also the Don of the Vitelli family.

I remembered the year I first became his subordinate. I had messed up during my first collection errand and ended up being locked in a warehouse.

He drove there alone, kicked the door open with blood on his hands, and pulled me out. Beneath the streetlight, he had lit a cigarette for me and said, “Don’t be afraid. I’ll show you the ropes next time.”

I also remembered the Christmas party during that year. Someone was pouring drinks down my throat and feeling up my legs. In front of the other Dons, he broke that man’s wrist. Then, he put his own coat over my shoulders, looked down at me, and asked if I would be his Donna. That meant being the lady of the Vitelli family.

Six years.

We had been together for six years.

Everyone said we were a perfect match, like a blade and its sheath.

We had exchanged rings. The wedding was set for early spring the following year.

Everything should have gone smoothly.

Yet, staring at the bright “Cancel” button on the screen, I suddenly remembered his words. “A prank.”

An overwhelming sense of exhaustion crawled up from my bones.

I suddenly felt tired.