Of volume lineage

XXVI

 

Isabella

 

I stumbled out of the party and onto the balcony, my laughter as loud as the pounding music. Booze and food were being passed around, and I had finally reached my max on shots. The world felt slower and thicker, like I was wading through soup.

I braced myself on the parapet, letting out the air from the city brushed against me. My white silk dress blew around me, a faint orange stain on the skirt from where Lucrezia had accidentally spilt dip on me.

I sucked in the cool air, already feeling sober.

“One too many?”

I snapped my head to the side. My mother leaned against the balcony railing not too far from me, dressed in a familiar coat and wide hat. Her dark eyes peered at me beneath the brim. She was wearing my clothes, most likely from the suitcase I had packed the night everything had went down.

“You got by security by pretending to be me,” I whispered.

Mother’s lips curled. “We look similar sometimes.”

I glanced back inside. Patrons moved to the music, their laughter and voices blending. There was no way anyone could see us…When I had insisted on a party, Giova

“Your husband is in the other room, Isabella,” she reminded me.

I knew that. I forced a smile for her. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to be here.”

“Really? I was under the impression that this was the safest place to be,” she said curtly. “it certainly is for Giova

“It was too obvious,” I argued. “The shipping container is not the slam dunk you think it is.”

“I know that. I thought that having Giova

I knew why. She knew why.

“It’s harder than you think,” I whispered, “not falling love with them.”

Mother sent me a confused look. She had no idea what I was going on about.

I stepped forward, imploring her to listen. “Maybe there’s another way. A way in which you and Father can have different territory–”

“Oh, listen to yourself, Isabella,” she snapped. “Your head is in the clouds. As long as there is air in Giova

I swallowed.

“Who do you belong to, Isabella?” Mother asked. “Are you a Lombardi or Vigliano?”

My mouth felt like ash as I said, “Vigliano.”

“As I thought.”

Mother held out her palm, a blade in the centre. “It’s time, my perfect girl. It’s time to take what belongs to us.” She pushed the knife into my grip. “It’s time to become a Lombardi again.”

My eyes reached upwards to the security cameras on the side of the building, and I swallowed against my dry throat.

 

The moment I step back into the party, I knew they knew. Gustavo stepped up to my side, Quintus, and Vincent both find their way into my path.

They know.

My eyes well with tears. Guests ask me what’s wrong, but I shoved them away with airy excuses. The world was being destroyed for me, going up in cosmic explosion, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I beelined to Marzia’s room but Vincent caught my arm. “Get off me,” I hissed.

“I’m not letting you anywhere near her.”

Fury erupted inside of me. “I would never let anything happen to her….Please just let me say goodbye.”

Vincent worked his jaw before releasing my arm. “Go.”

I hurried into Marzia’s room before he could change his mind.

She was dozing under the blankets. We had let her stay up for the party for a few hours, but eventually the clock had hit nine. Giova

I got to my knees, shaking her softly. Marzia’s eyelids peeled open, confusion in the blue depths.

“Izzy?” She spotted my tears and lifted herself up onto her elbows. “Are you okay?”

I stroked her black hair. “I want to tell you something and it’s very important.”

“Oh, okay.” Seriousness flittered over her features. “What is it?”

I pressed my lips to her forehead, blinking away tears. “You are my daughter. You have been since the moment I held you in my arms. Blood and bone be damned, genetics be damned. I love you, my girl. My daughter. Forgive me.”

Her face softened, melting like putty. “I love you too, Izzy.”

“Good, good,” I whispered. “One other thing.”

She leaned closer.

“A lot of people in your life are going to hate you, like you and love you. But I want you to remember one thing: you are perfection. You are the most extraordinary person I have ever met and the day you came onto Earth, every single soul that lived here was all the better for it.”

Marzia’s grin was blinding. “Thank you. I think you’re perfection, as well.”

I stroked her hair, giving her another kiss on the top of her head.

The bedroom door opened, and I didn’t need to turn around to see who it was. I could hear guests being escorted out of the party and the loud shouts of soldati.

I turned and felt the tears come faster.

Giova

“Get away from my daughter,” he said softly.

“You’re not going to hear me out?”

His gaze met mine. Every inch of my skin felt like it was being flayed. “Is it true?”

I rose to my feet and slowly stepped towards him. My dress trailed behind me like the cloak of a queen. “Yes.”

Giova

“You will be provided for,” he said calmly. “I will make sure you are safe and have everything you need. But you are never to come near my daughter or me ever again. You are nothing but my wife on paper.”

I darted forward. “Giova

Giova

I looked back. Marzia was staring, eyes blow wide.

“Do not look at her,” he snapped. A few of his men shared alarmed looks at their boss’s outright display of emotion.

Giova

“Giova

He stared down at me, gaze unforgiving. “You’re not mine.”

I flinched, letting out a hurt cry at his admission. “You don’t mean that–”

Giova

“Giova

He didn’t even look at me. “No doubt a cheap ploy to try and gain my trust.”

“You’re not thinking straight. You’re not acting like yourself.”

Giova

“You betrayed me, Isabella,” he said, voice tethering on the edge of wrath. “I should kill you. I should cut your tongue out and drop you into the sea.”