Chapter 10 Isabella
SANCIA
Engagement?!
“As I've already told you all.” Who's this all about? I wasn't told of this, I thought to myself. He pauses, nodding to his underbosses and his enforcers. His face hardened.
“Believe me, when I say this decision did not come easily, but the times have changed, and we must change along with it if we want to survive the currents.” He paused.
“Lorenzo and I have agreed. We have agreed to a marriage alliance between our two famiglias so we can bring an end to the centuries-old enmity between us and strive together for mutual support and benefit in our individual famiglia.”
There was a collective groan, but no one dared to say a word.
“In two days, my daughter Isabella would get engaged to Lorenzo Marchetti, and not long after the wedding would take place four weeks after that.”
There was a sharp gasp, accompanied by the sound of something shattering, as Isabella hit the glass close to her hand in shock. I wanted to go to her.
She suddenly looked so pale; I understood because I was shocked, and I wasn't even the one who was going to marry the enemy. Nobody beside the women paid her any mind; Papa barely glanced at her as he carried on with his speech.
“So raise your glasses if you agree with my decision and drink with me,” He pauses, adds more wine to his glass, and raises it.
All the men raise their glasses, including Mama and Aunt Francesca, even Isabella, who looks like she would burst into tears.
We have no choice but to raise our drinks too. The only one who didn't was Aunt Lorena, because she couldn't drink while pregnant.
“Salute,” Papa said.
“Salute!” his men chorus and chug down their drinks. Papa sat down as everyone went back to eating, drinking, and chatting except us, the women who all had a sympathetic expression on their faces for Isabella, as we all pretended to eat and forced smiles on our faces.
Later that night, after everyone had gone to their houses except for my Uncle Romero and his family, who all lived with us in Papa's big mansion.
I was seated in front of the dresser in Isabella's room, listening to Isabella sob her heart out; she was draped all over Mama as our mother comforted her.
I honestly feel for her and wish there was something I could do, but Papa had already made up his mind, not only that, but he'd announce it to his trusted men.
There's nothing anyone can do, but it still made me angry. I feel it was unfair that Isabella's opinion was disregarded, but this was how it was in this world.
"Mamma, ti prego, salvami, morirò se sposo Lorenzo,” (" Mamma, please save me, I'm going to die if I marry Lorenzo. ") Isabella cried, raising her head from Mama's chest.
Tears streaming from her eyes, even as she cries, she looks dignified. I would be wailing, bawling my eyes out if I were in her place, but not her. Somehow, Isabella had managed to be pretty while still sad and crying.
“Now you're exaggerating, Isabella; you're not going to die just because you married Lorenzo; he's not a beast.”
“Do you know him, Mama? Have you seen him?” Isabella asked curiously, still sobbing.
I was curious, too; I'd heard terrible rumors about the man but never seen him. Even Sergio had only seen him once.
Mama shakes her head. “No, I've never met him. I don't know him, only heard about him.”
“Then you know, Mama, you heard what people say about him. He's going to make my life miserable, Mama, you have to do something,” Isabella begged.
“Hush, that's enough, Isabella. You're going to make yourself sick with all this crying. Your father would never change his mind, and I also know he would never give you to a man who would hurt you.” Mama hugged her and whispered more comforting words.
Stroking her back and hair, Mama has tears in her eyes but is acting strong for Isabella's sake. I went to them and sat on Isabella’s back.
My heart feels so heavy. I hate this feeling of helplessness, of not knowing how to help my sister.
“I'm so sorry, Isa, that you're going through this. I wish I could talk to Papa for you, but he…” I started, she suddenly whirled so fast I got startled.
“Oh, please do, Sancia, talk to him. Papa always listens to you…” she pleaded.
“That's not true…” I swallow nervously from the hope in her eyes.
“But it is true, you're his favorite. Talk to him, Sancia, for me, please,” she begs, tears streaking down her cheeks.
I glance at Mama, waiting for her to tell her Papa would not listen to me; he always does what he wants. But she didn't say a word.
There's a light in her eyes that wasn't there earlier; they were staring at me expectantly with hopes in their eyes, waiting for me to answer.
I bit my lip and nodded vigorously. “I will try, I'll talk to him, I promise.”
Isabella crushed me to her, hugging me so tight I could hardly breathe, as she continued to cry, probably from the belief that there was still hope.
I ran my hand down her silky blonde hair like Mama's as I thought about the promise I just made.
I prayed to God that Papa wouldn't yell at me and that I would successfully convince him to choose another girl from the family.