The Family Never Forgives

At four in the morning, I woke up like usual and dialed my makeup artist's number.

She sounded confused. "The Valenti family called last night. They said the wedding's off. You didn't know?"

I bolted out of the bedroom. Dante Valenti stood in a custom tailored suit, heading for the door with his parents.

His father, Enzo Valenti, was the old Don's Sottocapo in Nooklyn. He had over 30 Capos under him and controlled every gray market operation across New Yis's boroughs.

His mother, Carmela Costa, wore thick gold chains around her neck year-round.

"Where are you going? Why didn't anyone tell me the wedding was canceled?"

Carmela walked over with a fake smile plastered on her face. "Serena, you got pregnant out of nowhere. Calling off the wedding is for your own good. People in our circle talk. If you walked down the aisle with a belly, where would that leave the Valenti name?"

Then the door shut.

I stood alone in the empty living room. My wedding dress hung on the bedroom rack, white tulle pooling on the floor.

My phone buzzed. Carmela had posted a new video on Instagram.

I recognized the woman in it. Liliana Moretti. Dante's junior from college.

The year she graduated, he got down on one knee in front of a church and proposed to her. The whole campus talked about it for months.

Then Liliana left for Gilan, and the engagement fell apart.

If she had not left, Dante and I never would have happened.

In the video, Liliana wore the burgundy reception dress I had picked out. Carmela beamed as she stuffed thick cash envelopes into Liliana's hands.

Dante pulled Liliana into his arms in front of a room full of people and kissed her.

My hands started shaking. I shut off my phone, ran out the door, and sprinted toward the hotel.

The hotel belonged to the Valenti family. The first floor housed an Emalian restaurant that ran legitimate business. The second floor had a banquet hall for all kinds of "respectable" private gatherings. Weddings, funerals and celebrations for closed deals.

Today, it was a baptism reception.

The banquet hall was packed. Guests raised their glasses to Dante and Carmela.

"Congratulations! A boy on the first try. How fortunate."

"Dante's wife is gorgeous. She and Dante look perfect together."

Liliana wore my reception dress. The wedding I had waited eight years for had become her son's baptism reception.

An old man with silver hair stepped forward. He was the Don of the Valenti family, Dante's grandfather.

He pulled a gold chain from the inner pocket of his suit jacket and placed it around the baby's neck himself.

In a mafia family, when the Don placed a gold chain on a child with his own hands, it meant he acknowledged the bloodline. He acknowledged the heir.

Liliana wore the Valenti family heirloom gold jewelry around her neck. According to tradition, only a daughter-in-law officially married into the family had the right to wear it.

I looked down at the thin chain around my own neck. It was only a single small gold bead.

Dante bought it eight years ago. He said he would get me a bigger one later.

I suddenly felt ridiculous. My feelings. My devotion. My sincerity.

All of it was a joke.

I yanked the chain off and tossed it into the trash bin by the door.

I hid in the hallway and listened through the half-open door. Carmela's voice drifted out.

"It's so embarrassing that Serena got pregnant before marriage. We can't let some cheap gold digger marry into this family."

She lowered her voice, but the contempt came through loud and clear.

"Her father grows lemons for a living, and yet she had the nerve to ask us for a million and a half dollars as a dowry."

I thought Dante would say something to defend me. Instead, he nodded and rested his hand on Liliana's waist.

"You're right, Mamma."

I covered my mouth. Then my nails dug into my palms, but I did not make a sound.

If my child was destined to become an illegitimate bastard like me, unwanted and unloved, I had no right to bring him into this world to suffer.

I called a car and went to a hospital in Midtown.

After eight years, I thought I would marry into the Valenti family with my head held high. I thought the humiliation I endured and the bitterness I swallowed would be worth it someday.

It was all wishful thinking.

I booked a flight to Lalermo leaving in seven days.

I was not getting married, and I sure as hell was not keeping this baby.