5

"Mrs. Moretti," I heard a gentle knock on the door, accompanied by a voice calling my name. Each time I was addressed as such, it felt surreal, as if I was living in a dream. To think I had married someone as unreachable as Marco Moretti seemed too good to be true.

Turning my attention towards the door, I rose from where I was seated. It was Lucille, the woman Marco had introduced earlier, whom I expected to see. Unlike our previous encounter, my attire was now impeccably neat, devoid of any wrinkles.

Reflecting on that particular moment, a sudden warmth rushed to my cheeks, reminding me of the embarrassment ignited by Marco's previous actions.

I was correct in my assumption. Upon opening the door, I discovered Lucille standing there. She greeted me cordially.

"Sir Marco has requested my assistance in acquainting you with everything you need to know as his spouse. Shall we proceed to the study room, Mrs. Moretti—"

"Please, just call me Maddie." They gave me all these fancy titles I wasn’t really used to.

She offered a restrained smile. "Very well, let's go to the study room, Ma'am Maddie."

It appeared that no matter how much I insisted on being called Maddie, just Maddie,  they would persist in addressing me with reverence, so I chose not to push the matter.

We made our way to the study room, uncertain of its purpose. ‘Was studying necessary just to gauge Marco's character and the Moretti family dynamics?’ On the desk, I noticed a collection of files. Lucille gestured for me to take a seat in the office chair, so I complied.

"All the documents you see here pertain to the Moretti family and their associates. Being married to Sir Marco, it's crucial for you to familiarize yourself with everything," Lucille explained.

My astonishment grew as I observed the thickness of the documents Lucille referred to.

"If you prefer using electronic devices, you can use the laptop or iPad for reading. Don't hesitate to ask me if you have any questions."

I managed a smile at Lucille when she finished speaking. Shifting my attention, I focused on the documents, scanning the file names.

Moretti Mafia Organization.

Mafia?

For a brief moment, my mind hesitated, contemplating the term 'mafia.' The mafia, the notorious criminal syndicate?

I glanced at Lucille, who patiently awaited my inquiries.

Taking a deep breath, I prepared to speak, but I held back.

"Marco is associated with a mafia organization? He's a member?" The revelation shocked me, yet I managed to maintain composure. Even prior to learning about Marco's involvement, there had always been an undertone of darkness surrounding him.

"Certainly, Madame," Lucille responded.

My heart accelerated even more at her answer. Swallowing became increasingly challenging as I struggled to accept Marco's involvement in such an organization.

"Please be aware, he's not merely a member, Madame; he currently holds the position of the organization's leader."

If I was shocked by what I had discovered earlier, this revelation left me even more astounded.

What had I unknowingly entered? Marrying Marco was already peculiar since I knew so little about him, and now I was uncovering these aspects about my now—husband?

In spite of my anxiety, I concealed it from Lucille. I simply nodded, pretending to wholeheartedly embrace everything she said, despite the turmoil inside me.

Marco, my husband, happens to be a mafia boss!

"I'll take my leave now, Ma'am. If you need anything, feel free to call me or Renzo."

As Lucille departed, I returned my gaze to the thick stack of documents. Overwhelm washed over me even before I began reading.

The organization's history was laid out before me. I painstakingly absorbed the information, even though the sheer volume of names made my head throb. Did I really have to memorize them all?

My interest piqued when I discovered that Marco's father, Davide Moretti, was in charge. It occurred to me that the Moretti family had been the leaders for three generations. However, I noticed a slight deviation when Marco's father took over, as his cousin, Mr. Roberto Moretti, had previously held the position. I became curious about the circumstances that led to this change.

I disregarded it and proceeded to flip through the succeeding pages. To my surprise, I stumbled upon Marco's lineage. Lucille's intuition had been spot on; Marco was the mastermind, the apex predator. He held the position of authority within the organization.

As I delved further, I uncovered the identities of his cohorts who played vital roles in managing the operations. Marcello Moretti fulfilled the vital role of a consigliere, as Marco's most trusted advisor. I remembered him from our wedding; he stood at Marco's side as the best man. Similar to Marco, Marcello emitted an air of emotional detachment. Stefano Moretti occupied the position of second in command, while Gabriele and Giuseppe Moretti served as the two underbosses.

A whisper escaped my lips, "I am a bit lost and can’t quite piece it all together."

After that, I proceeded to the rest of the members known as caporegimes, who held high positions within the crime syndicate and oversaw lower-ranking members. While reading through the list, I noticed that Renzo and Lucille were listed as caporegimes under Marco. Seeing their names there finally provided an answer to why they had chosen to involve me.

Overwhelmed with thoughts, I rose from my seat and marked the page where I had paused. I also noticed background information about other families who seemed to have friendly relationships with the Moretti family. It became apparent that I needed to familiarize myself with and comprehend these connections as well.

The fact that Marco originated from such a family still felt surreal to me. I had often witnessed depictions of such individuals in movies, but to actually encounter them in real life was unsettling. I couldn't deny that they were involved in illicit activities, and it made me question my involvement with them.

/////

As I made my way towards the kitchen with the intention of quenching my thirst, a sudden recollection surged through my mind. It brought to light the distressing manner in which my father would treat me whenever I left the confined space he had forced me into. Even something as mundane as getting a drink would provoke his anger, leaving me on edge.

Almost involuntarily, my hand instinctively clenched the fridge’s door tightly, as if seeking refuge from the haunting memories of abuse that resurfaced. I shut my eyes tightly, attempting to bury the horrifying experiences from the past.

"Ma'am?"

Startled, I flinched and took a step back, a reflexive reaction influenced by the fear of potential harm, as if the individual who had approached me was my father.

The household help who had called out to me appeared taken aback, evidently surprised by my response. It seemed she had not anticipated such a reaction from me.

I calmed myself down, realizing that I was not in my familiar home and my father was absent. As long as I stayed here, I knew he couldn't harm me.

"Are you alright?" she inquired.

I managed to put on a fake smile, hiding the wave of fear triggered by the thoughts and memories. "I'm fine. Sorry, I tend to get startled easily." I looked towards the refrigerator and gestured. "I was just going to get some water. Is that alright?"

Her reaction appeared to display a brief moment of surprise before she nodded slowly.

"Of course, Ma'am. As the mistress of the home, there’s no need for formalities. A quick call, and we would have been happy to deliver water to your study for your ease." She said, her smile meeting mine as she handed me a chilled glass of water.

Taking a seat on the elevated chair at the central counter, I saw the household assistant gently place the glass in front of me.

"Before Sir Marco departed, he instructed us to fulfill any of your needs or desires, Ma'am. Please do not hesitate to approach us; after all, you are the esteemed mistress of this house. I apologize if I startled you earlier."

Grasping the glass, I could sense the coolness of the water within.

Am I the mistress? Does that mean no one will deny me food as punishment for my mistakes? Will I be free to leave my room without fear of being criticized? Is this a place where I won't experience verbal or physical abuse?

As I reflected inwardly, I realized that the people in this new household were not like those in our previous home; Marco was different from my father. It was crucial for me to keep that in mind.

Expressing gratitude, I lifted my gaze towards her and uttered, "Thank you. May I know your name?"

"My name is Maria, Ma'am," she replied.

I smiled once more, and she reciprocated the gesture. “Do you need anything else?” Maria asked.

I simply shake my head no.

As the sun set, a wave of excitement washed over me. Dinner was prepared, and I found myself seated at the head of the table. The anticipation filled me because it was a rare occasion for me to dine with someone else. In the past, I had always eaten alone, as my father was often absent or when he was present, I was confined to my room. Eating with Violet and Aunt Mildred was a privilege I cherished.

Shaking my head, I refused to let those memories overshadow the present moment. This was a new environment, and I needed to leave behind the mindset of the past. Although I was still connected to Marco in some way, I was free from the clutches of my father. In this house, he held no power over me.

Curiosity piqued, I turned to Renzo, who sat beside me, and inquired, "Where is Marco?"

"He's still in the office, Ma'am," Renzo replied.

I felt a surge of disappointment upon hearing the news. Marco was still at the office? Why hadn't he come home yet?

"Could you tell me when Marco is expected to come home? I'd like to wait for him before having dinner."

I longed to share a meal with my husband, believing it could strengthen our relationship if we made it a regular practice.

"I'll give Sir a call to find out, Ma'am."

I offered a smile to Renzo, even though he didn't reciprocate. I thought it would be beneficial to cultivate a friendly rapport with the people around me, especially since I would be interacting with them frequently.

I patiently waited for Renzo's return. While I had concerns about Marco, he hadn't done anything to exacerbate my fears.

Renzo returned, and I anxiously awaited his update.

"Ma'am, Sir Marco won't be able to come home yet. You should go ahead and have your meal," he informed me.

A sudden emptiness gnawed at my stomach, causing my appetite to vanish.

"Will he be home late? I can wait—" I attempted to reason.

"He asked that you start eating first, Ma'am," Renzo replied.

I slumped in my chair. Did I really have to dine alone even in this place?