Ruthless Mafia 14

“You look beautiful,” Zipporah Esposito adjusted her daughter’s veil.
“Thank you, Mama.”
“He spared no expense on your dress and flowers.”
“It was very kind of him.”
“He is not a kind man,” her mother glowered at her.
What the heck did her mother want her to say? “I understand, Mama.”
“He’s going to ask you to consummate your marriage. Do you know what happens –”
“Mama, I know what happens. The nuns in high school provided the appropriate education.” There was no way she wanted to have this conversation with her mother.
“It’s going to hurt.”
She blinked at her mother’s words. “What?”
“Men are not gentle when they want what they want. It will hurt. When he breaks your hymen,” her mother started to
explain.
“Mama!” she cut her off with a flap of her hand, “please stop. I do not want to talk about this with you. Please rest
assured the school gave me the basics of biology and my husband will teach me the rest. Whether it hurts or not is
irrelevant since I’m stuck in my situation.”
Her mother gave her an annoyed look, “we are in this situation because of you, Zorah.”
The urge to scream at her mother it wasn’t she who asked to be born was nearly impossible to hold back but she bit her
tongue, the taste of blood on her palate. The last thing she needed today was to get on her mother’s bad side.
Her mother was never the smartest girl in the room. She wasn’t the prettiest either. What she was, more than anyone else
though, was impressionable and appallingly desperate for acceptance. She would drink whatever Kool-Aid her big
brother was pouring for a single smile. Since the moment their parents died, Ippocrate pushed the narrative the
conception and birth of his niece was a sin for which Zorah must always be reminded of and Zipporah Esposito desperate
for his love did whatever he asked.
Because her conception and subsequent birth were such sins, Zorah was forced to become the epitome of sainthood in
order to redeem herself. It was Zipporah’s job to ensure they were both as pure and untainted as sinners could be. It was
a job Zipporah took very seriously, and each time Zorah messed up and Zipporah punished her accordingly, Ippocrate would bestow the sweetest of kisses to his sister’s forehead and praise her for being a good godly woman and mother.
Honor your father and your mother.
In this case, she was to honor Father Ippocrate Giannone and her mother Zipporah Esposito, and should she fail they
made certain she knew of her failures.
She thought of the conversation the night she’d had dinner with Icaro. Ippocrate did change his name to Giannone, and
it was because being a priest with the same last name as a sister who bore a child out of wedlock was embarrassing to
him. He would never want to share a name with an illegitimate child.
After today, she wouldn’t share a name with either her mother or her uncle. The thought brought a hint of a smile to her
face. It wasn’t missed by her mother.
“You are smiling! You are thinking of the murderer you are going to share a bed with and you’re thinking impure
thoughts!”
She stepped back away from her mother’s rage. “No, Mama. I was thinking how proud I am to be doing the right thing
to make sure you and Father Giannone are not at risk.” She lied, in the small room in the church where she’d been
getting ready and fought with her fingers not to automatically form the sign of the cross over her body for the lying in
the house of God. “I do not want this for me, Mama. I know he’s not a good man and he’s a sinner but I prayed so much
with Sidonia and I am leaving this in God’s hands because it is what is right. I am proud to make this sacrifice for you.”
“Pride is a sin.”
Nothing she was going to do or say was going to appease the woman today. “I am sorry, Mama. You are right. I’ll reflect
on my words.”
Her mother reached for her handbag and immediately Zorah flinched. Her fear was short lived however when Sidonia
knocked once and entered the space.
“I was sent by Father Giannone to bring you now. They are ready.”
Her mother’s face was contorted with anger for being interrupted but she knew better than to piss off her older brother
and so she waved with annoyance. “Let’s get on with it.”
“Ms. Esposito, Father Giannone said you are to take your seat in the church. She can walk on her own.”
Her mother huffed, grabbed her bag, tucked a wisp of hair which escaped her tight bun behind her ear and then held her
chin high and stormed out of the room.
“What did I walk into?” Sidonia grabbed her by the hands.
“I think she wanted to punish me one last time. She told me all of this is my fault for having been born. I apologized. I
dared to smile and said I was proud for doing this to save their lives and was told pride is a sin.”
“Oh gosh,” Sidonia made wide eyes at her. “Was she reaching for her handbag?”
She nodded, “you saved me from having to endure another one of her punishments.”
“Well, can I say the chapel has about fifty people in it. My parents are here kissing up to your uncle like’s he’s Christ
himself. There are a couple of sisters here, but the rest are all men who accompanied your betrothed,” she made a face at
the word, “and one of them keeps staring at me like I’m his next meal.”
Zorah frowned, “what do you mean, his next meal.”
“I mean he’s standing at the altar with your fiancé, and he looked right into my eyes across the room, then whispered
something in Icaro’s ear. The guy wouldn’t stop staring at me as Icaro laughed at him and then he spoke to Father
Giannone. Father motioned to my Dad and then I was sent here to get you, but the man was eyeballing me.”
“I wonder what is happening?”
“I don’t know but I was told to get you out there and I don’t want to be shot by the big guy with your husband-to-be so
can we go?”
Zorah took her friend’s hand. “Let’s do this then.”