Chapter 11

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*I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS. THEY ALL BELONG TO OUR QUEEN CORA REILLY*

Song Rec: Poison by Alice Cooper 

Aurora

"Oh. Ok." There was a silence in my head. And there was also a strange white noise in my head, as if my body was glitching. But then he continued:

"Dante Cavallaro came up with a contract that will help unite the Outfit, Camorra and the Famiglia again. Since all the sons of the Capos remain unwed, they arranged marriages for us. So Greta is marrying Amo, Leonas is marrying Simona Morretti and I am marrying the daughter of one of Dante's underbosses. I think her name is Elena..." and I stopped hearing him.

I took a deep sip of my coffee, hoping the bitter caffeine would break the numbness, but it didn't. Even the burn of it against my throat was irrelevant to what he was saying. He's getting married. Not to you.

"You're ok with this?" I blurted out. I couldn't see him doing it. No one was significant enough to leash Nevio Falcone into a married life. Except Dante Cavallaro, apparently.

"Of course," he said matter-of-factly, as if me asking that was absurd. "It's the honorable thing to do, and as future Capo it's my duty. Also, Greta has asked you to be a bridesmaid or whatever so dad wants you to return to Vegas immediately." He was really calm about this, even if there was a slight weariness in his eyes. It was pitiful and I hated it. I hated the simplicity of the mafia fucking people over. No wonder everyone hated us.

"I am not a dog that can just be summoned, Falcone. I'll be there two days before Greta's wedding. I have to study for my boards." I said as I stuffed my books and laptop in my backpack. I had to get out of here. I wasn't about to give him my tears, he didn't deserve them. No one did.

"Yeah, you do that. You think you're so much better than us don't you, Scuderi? Well, you're not. You're no better than an outsider, especially with the way you whored yourself out to me for seven years."

One second I was putting my IPad away, and the next my palm collided with his face. It burned with the impact. He was definitely expecting it, especially since he knew how much I hated that word. "Say it again, Falcone. I dare you." He leaned against a wall and grinned his infuriating maniac smile. This whole thing felt like a fever dream, because what the actual fuck? He's getting married. Not to you. Whore. Red exploded in my vision and the roaring in my head was so fucking loud, that I also hurled my cup of coffee at him. He dodged it with ease and it shattered behind him. This wasn't my problem. None of it was, and yet I had made it my problem. I shouldn't have been surprised, because we were just friends with benefits. Which apparently made me a whore. But he was never a part of my future. So why was I so bothered? Because you love him. I didn't give myself time to ponder that thought. The library would do me good. Nothing in the world had given me more pain than Nevio in that moment, and I had let him see it.

Nevio

She wanted to destroy me. I could see it in her eyes and the way she'd thrown that mug. But I had to do this. She didn't deserve my problems. I'd agree to marry Elena because even if dad hadn't asked it from me, I knew he hoped I would so that Greta could be happy. Because after all, we were puppets to Dante Cavallaro's threats of exposure and a fat lawsuit. Even the Famiglia had agreed. So when Dante said that Greta won't marry, unless we all did, I'd folded. Like a fucking lawn chair. I didn't see Aurora at the moment. I saw Greta and her hopeful eyes, I saw dad's anger at being asked to make such an impossible choice, and I saw opportunity. No one would challenge me as Capo after that. I was marrying for an alliance for fucks sake. Call that childish. And after toasting the future alliances, it hit me. I had just agreed to get married. Not to Aurora.

I didn't remember getting on my bike, and I definitely didn't remember going to our old party house. I couldn't breath as I stumbled in. Luckily the bar was still intact. I definitely needed more than a Negroni after that conversation. I didn't remember when Alessio and Massimo came in, and I certainly didn't remember screaming, "SHE'S THE ONE I WANT, AND I JUST FUCKED MY SELF OVER. ISN'T THAT HILARIOUS ALESSIO?" I think I'd broken the bottle of nasty Fireball after chugging it but I didn't care. I didn't want this, but I was stuck. Alessio drove me home the next day and in the silence of HIS car I pondered jumping out so that I wouldn't have to go through with it. If I faked my death, this wouldn't be my problem anymore, right? Unfortunately, we arrived home, before I could let that thought manifest. No not home, but something out of Say Yes to the Dress. Of course, our mothers had already made a festival out of wedding planning. I had escaped under the ruse of bringing Aurora back.

I'd decided not to tell her for at least a week. Not until I had fucked her out of my system. Not until we were at peace with one another. But one look at her tired, yet hopeful eyes, I'd melted. She'd wanted to tell me something, but I beat her to it. I'd taken the easy way out, because I would rather see her hate me than in pain because of me. I'd loved her, more than anything. She owned me. She could ask me to run away with her and leave everything behind, and I'd do it. She was the queen of my heart and I wanted to give her everything. The original plan, the one before Greta's pregnancy and the shit show of engagements, was to tell mom how I felt about Aurora and ask her how to propose to a girl. I wanted to do it right, because that was the least she deserved. But then luck had fucked us over. So when Aurora threw that mug at me, I'd considered not ducking because I deserved the pain. She didn't come home that night, or the next and I waited. 


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