CHAPTER 9

FIORELLA CARLA SCHIAVONE

"We're here."

I opened my eyes when I heard Vicenzo's voice. Slowly, I sat up straight, adjusted the reclined backrest of my seat, and peeked out the window of his car.

We were already in the driveway of my father's mansion. Since Calabria is far from Campania, we traveled using his helicopter, which his brother Matteo piloted. The helicopter is now parked at the helipad of the Palazzo Russo hotel, where Matteo stayed behind.

I was only here to pick up some of my personal belongings, so I didn't plan on staying long.

"Just grab the important things and the ones you use frequently. As for clothes, take all your favorites and the ones you wear daily. We can buy whatever else you're missing from your room later," he said seriously, his eyes fixed on something outside the car.

I followed his gaze and saw one of my father's men approaching, carrying a firearm. Vicenzo rolled down the window on his side, and the man leaned in slightly.

"Russo, good afternoon," the man greeted him. Vicenzo simply nodded, and the man glanced at me, offering a respectful nod before addressing me. "Good afternoon, Fiorella—"

"Mrs. Russo," Vicenzo interrupted the man.

I turned to look at him when he spoke. His right hand rested on the steering wheel, while his left elbow leaned on the lowered car window, his chin propped on his left hand.

"Oh, my apologies. Good afternoon, Mrs. Russo," the man corrected himself.

I nodded and gave him a small smile before unfastening my seatbelt. The man bid us goodbye before walking away. I adjusted my white sundress, then opened the passenger seat door to step out.

"Bring your phone. If anything happens, text me immediately," he suddenly said.

I nodded slowly, turned away from him, and walked along the sidewalk of the driveway.

Was he thinking something bad might happen to me inside the mansion? I shook my head at the thought. Why was I even assuming he was concerned?

Was it because of what my father did—handing me over to Vicenzo so easily when he walked me down the aisle? The memory of that moment played in my mind. It was as if my father was in such a hurry to give me away, like I wasn't even his child.

I tried to convince myself that maybe some fathers are just like that, but why? What reasons could they possibly have to treat their own children that way, as if they weren't their flesh and blood?

Why does it seem so easy for them to push their children into situations like this? I sighed heavily, my thoughts weighing on me. It hurt to think about because he was the only one I had since I was a child. My mother died giving birth to me, yet this is how he treated me.

When I reached my room, I pulled out my large suitcase to pack all the important things I would bring back to Calabria. I started with my bath essentials, then my underwear and clothes. I packed my gadgets, makeup, and the pieces of jewelry I frequently wore into the suitcase as well.

Out of breath, I sat on the edge of my bed and let my gaze wander around the room before heading out. I was going to miss this... I would miss this room because it had become my comfort zone.

I lay down on my soft bed for a moment, grabbed my phone from the side, and started typing a message to Vicenzo to let him know I was done packing.

Fiorella:

I'm done packing. I'm heading down now.

It hadn't even been a minute when he replied, as if he had been waiting for me to text him.

Vicenzo:

Okay. The car is already at the entrance of your house. I'll just wait for you here. How many bags do you have? Should I come in to get you?

Fiorella:

No, thank you. I'll just ask one of my father's men to carry it. Just wait for me there, and I managed to fit all my things into one large suitcase.

Vicenzo:

Okay. If you change your mind, just text me again.

Fiorella:

Okay.

I quickly turned off my phone and sprang out of bed when I remembered my favorite necklace. I knelt on the carpet and reopened my suitcase to retrieve the necklace with a customized pendant that named 'Stella,' carefully stored in a small, separate pouch bag.

I held the necklace up in the air and smiled at the sight of the pendant. It was still clean because I made sure to clean it regularly, afraid it might get dirty. I quickly fastened it around my neck, stood up, and left my room after securing my suitcase and pulling up its handle.

I stopped by my father's office before leaving to say goodbye, knowing I wouldn't be returning to this house. From his actions during the wedding, it was clear he wouldn't want me back here. It felt as if he was pushing me away.

I placed my suitcase to the side and knocked three times on the closed door of his office.

"Come in," I heard my father say.

I carefully opened the door and was greeted by the cold air from the split-type air conditioner. My father glanced at me, seated on his swivel chair, seemingly annoyed that I had interrupted him while he was reading the papers piled on his desk.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have a new place to stay?" my father asked, his eyes fixed on me.

I raised my hands to sign in front of him.

"I just wanted to say goodbye again, Father. I came to get some of my things, and I'll be leaving shortly," I signed.

He lowered the glasses he was wearing and crossed his arms in front of me. I watched as he stood up from his chair and walked toward me.

"Okay," my father replied curtly and without emotion.

I nodded and signed again. "I'll be leaving now. Goodbye."

Just as I was about to grasp the doorknob to exit his office, he suddenly spoke.

"Before you leave, Fiorella, let me remind you of something. If your husband wants to have sex with you, just agree. That's the least you can do. The Russo's are a powerful clan, Fiorella. Giving your husband a son would be a significant contribution, especially for someone as useless as you."

Slowly, I turned to face him, staring in disbelief.

My heart pounded as I looked at him, my brows furrowing in shock. I couldn't believe that even now, he was still insisting on this reasoning. My fists clenched tightly in anger, my knuckles turning white.

"Is that all you ever think about, Father?" I signed, my movements sharp with frustration.

A storm of emotions swirled in my chest, suffocating me—anger and pain intertwining.

"What else would it be?" he responded with a laugh, as if mocking me.

"It's just an arranged marriage between me and Russo. That means, even if we didn't want it, the wedding still happened. We were married without any feelings for each other," I signed in front of him, my hands moving firmly to convey my message. "What if he already has a girlfriend? A fiancée? I can't bring myself to ruin someone else's relationship—"

I flinched in shock as he suddenly yelled at me. I instinctively stepped back toward the door, clutching my chest while staring at him.

"Stupid!" he shouted at me. He grabbed my arm tightly and brought his face close to mine in anger. "Seduce him if you have to! What use is your body if you won't use it! You have every right to him because he's your husband, not his girlfriend or fiancée!" he snarled, his voice trembling with rage.

My body shook as tears welled up in my eyes, a mixture of fear and anger. Gathering my courage, I grabbed his hand to pull it off, but when I couldn't, I raised my hand to sign furiously in front of him.

"I cannot control my womb to ensure I bear him a son, Father," I signed, my gaze sharp and defiant. "And if we ever have a child, there's nothing we can do but accept their gender, whether you like it or not," I signed angrily.

I turned my head to the side as his large, heavy hand struck my cheek. The force left me momentarily deaf, and my cheek went numb. The taste of blood lingered on my lips. I couldn't stop the tears from falling as I met his enraged, bloodshot eyes. His body trembled with fury.

"You've grown bold, Fiorella," he said, his voice trembling with anger and mockery, a sinister laugh escaping his lips. "Bold enough to talk back, yet you're crying? What kind of foolishness is that?"

I winced as he cupped my stinging cheek and leaned closer to me. My vision blurred from the relentless stream of hot tears running down my face.

With a sharp movement, he released my face, his hand dropping away, and he gripped the doorknob of his office. Without warning, he grabbed my wrist and shoved me out of the room.

"Get out of here and don't ever come back. Do you understand me?" he said through gritted teeth. "I'll find out the gender of your child even if I'm not with you, Fiorella. I'm not joking. Once I find out the gender of your child and I don't like it, I'll come to your house myself and kill your child, right in front of you," he threatened.

I gasped at his threat, feeling nervous about what he said because I knew he wasn't joking when it came to conversations like this. His voice was cold as he spoke, and his eyes were dark with anger. Is he losing his mind? Is he so obsessed with having a male grandchild? Why is he so fixated on this?

I won't let what happened to me before happen again. I will never allow the past to repeat itself, or I might lose my sanity if it does.

I ignored him, grabbing the handle of my suitcase to drag it toward the stairs. One of my father's staff saw me walking into the living room. Without hesitation, he came up and grabbed the suitcase to bring it down so I wouldn't struggle.

"I'll take this outside, Mrs. Russo. Your husband has been waiting outside at the entrance of the mansion for a while now."

I nodded and smiled at him. I noticed he looked at my face, and I knew he saw the swelling on my cheek from my father's doing.

I just pointed to the open bathroom beside the kitchen to let him know I was going to use it. He seemed to understand, so he nodded and took my suitcase outside the mansion.

I hurried to the bathroom, splashing my face with water, hoping the swelling would go down quickly. I could feel it was swollen, and my cheek felt like a squirrel's when it stores nuts in its cheeks—the part my father slapped was throbbing.

It was still red despite all my attempts to wash it away. I sighed and left the bathroom, determined to leave the hellish mansion as soon as I could.

The passenger seat door was already open when I exited, and I saw the frown on Vicenzo's face as he looked at me. He must have been waiting for me for a while. Once I got in and sat down, I fastened my seatbelt, and I was startled when I felt his hand on my chin, gently turning my face toward him.

"What happened? Why did it take so long?" he asked, his brow furrowed, and he paused for a moment when he saw the swelling on my cheek.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

VICENZO ALDO RUSSO

"Your cheek is swollen," I said seriously to her. She averted her gaze from me, but I stopped her. "And you had a cut on your lip, Who did this? Who slapped you? Tell me, text me who did this," I asked with a furrowed brow, but I received no answer.

I released her chin, and my jaw clenched as I realized who was responsible for this. I opened the driver's seat door and was about to get out when I felt her small hand on my arm to stop me from doing what I was about to do.

She shook her head several times, worry evident on her face.

"Stay here, I have somewhere to go," I said firmly. I even extended my hand to turn the car's air conditioning to max before stepping out and closing the driver's seat door.

I entered the mansion and crossed paths with a maid. I approached her. She was slightly startled by my presence when she saw me.

"Where is Antonio?" I asked.

"He's in his office. The last door on the right," she replied quickly.

I didn't say anything else, turning my back on her as I made my way to the office of that damn father-in-law of mine. My footsteps were heavy as I approached the closed door of his office.

I stepped back and kicked the door hard, and as expected, it broke with just one powerful kick. Fiorella's father was shocked by my actions, standing up from his seat with a furrowed brow, looking at me.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Antonio asked angrily.

"What's your dominant hand?" I asked as I walked toward him.

"Huh? What the hell are you saying, Vicenzo!?" he shouted at me in anger.

I looked down at his right and left hands. I wasn't sure which hand he used to slap Fiorella. My brow furrowed when I realized that Fiorella's left cheek was red and swollen when I saw it.

"You don't need to answer anymore because I already know," I said coldly.

I pulled out my gun from behind me and quickly aimed it at his right hand. I didn't hesitate to shoot at his hand. He screamed in pain as the bullet grazed his hand.

"Vicenzo!" he screamed at me, writhing in pain while holding his bleeding hand.

I met his burning gaze without emotion, ignoring his loud screams. I heard a loud thud coming from inside the office, but I didn't pay it any attention.

"Capo!" I heard one of his men say.

My vision darkened as I kept my gaze fixed on Antonio, not bothering to glance at his men.

"Try ordering your men to hold me, and I might forget that we performed the blood oath ceremony," I said coldly, still pointing my gun at him.

"Maybe you've forgotten why we did that, Vicenzo?" he replied. "One wrong move from you, and I'm sure your clan will be destroyed. So, the nerve of you—AH!"

The sound of a gunshot echoed through the office as I shot his right arm, and he didn't get to finish his sentence.

I watched as his blood dripped continuously from his arm down to his elbow and onto the floor of his office.

"The next time you hurt my wife, Antonio, I won't just plant a bullet in your arm. You have no right to hurt Fiorella," I said in a cold, serious voice, still aiming my gun at him, the barrel smoking.

I turned around and met the eyes of his three men, who were now staring at me. I looked at them emotionlessly before walking out of the office. I bumped into their shoulders, and just before leaving, I glanced at Antonio over my shoulder.

"Next time you do that, the bullet will be in your head."

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

FIORELLA CARLA SCHIAVONE

It was late at night when we returned to Calabria. As Vicenzo was leaving the mansion, I saw how he tucked his gun behind him before getting into the driver's seat and driving the car back to Palazzo Russo.

He also admitted to me while driving that he had shot my father in the arm and that there was a graze on his hand. I didn't know how to react, but there was a flicker of satisfaction in my chest because my father had finally gotten a lesson from Vicenzo.

"Tonight, I am pleased that we are all complete at the dinner table. I will now introduce you to my wife, the Donna of our clan," I heard Vicenzo say while standing and holding a red wine glass filled with Barbaresco.

We were now in the enormous dining area of their mansion. When I say enormous, I mean it was really huge. There were six long tables set up, each one covered with food.

All the seats at the six long tables were occupied, and Matteo told me that there weren't enough staff present because some were still on duty with other tasks. Most of the people here were soldati and Giovani d'onore.

He looked at me and nodded. He extended his hand, the one not holding the wine, and I took it to stand up.

"From now on, you will address her as Donna Fiorella because she will be living here in our compound. I expect you to respect her as much as you respect me. If I find out that any of you disrespects her, your life will be the price," he said seriously, looking at his men.

"Yes!" they all shouted in unison.

"You will protect her with all your might. She is now the Donna of our clan. Whatever she wants, I expect you to fulfill without hesitation."

"Yes!"

"Good, then. Good evening to everyone, and you may begin eating," Vicenzo said as he sat down.

I sat back down as well because he was still holding my hand. He only let go once we were both seated. The large dining area was filled with noise as his men enjoyed their meal, while I remained quiet, observing them as I chewed my food.

I could see everyone clearly because our table, which included Vicenzo, Matteo, his grandfather, and his father, was in front. I was in the middle of Vicenzo and Matteo, with Matteo's father and then his grandfather sitting beside him.

Why are they so happy to watch? Rosa and the other helpers are busy bringing in the extra food. I also see Lorenzo coming out of the kitchen just to help the other helpers with serving the food. And every now and then, they join the others at the dinner table.

Is it like this with them? They look so happy, smiling and eating together. That's when I realized I was also smiling while eating and watching them.

I never expected that I would experience eating with a smile because of happiness here.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

"How many days have you been locked up in your mansion now? Does your husband have no plans to take you on a honeymoon?" Ornella asked on the other line.

As usual, I was having breakfast in my favorite spot at my husband's mansion, in their garden. I was sitting in the open lanai, with my iPad in front of me so Ornella could see me sign language.

I shrugged before signing, "I don't know yet, Ornella. Why does it seem like you're more affected than me if my husband and I get to go on a honeymoon?"

She grinned at me because of what I said. "Wow. That's what I like about you, Fiorella. Fully committed to your husband," she said, laughing.

I pouted at what she said. "But the truth is he's my husband right? What do you want me to do then?" I signed back to her.

She laughed later, shaking her head before responding.

"Nothing," she answered, still laughing. "And yes, I'm really affected! You need to experience a honeymoon, come on! Who knows, you might end up with a honeymoon baby," she teased, which made my cheeks blush. "At least even though it's an arranged marriage, you'll still experience that, right?"

I couldn't help but sigh and cross my arms because of her teasing. I just leaned back in my seat while watching her.

"You're lucky that you married Vicenzo and not Fabbri's son. If it were him, your honeymoon might just be a punch, and you'd be in a worse situation, right?"

I sighed and signed, "I don't know, and I have no intention of bringing up the honeymoon you keep talking about to Vicenzo. Also, if that happens, then something will happen between us."

"Oh for fuck's sake, Fiorella. It's probably going to happen because you're married. Are you embarrassed for him to see your body? Girl, your body is so fucking hot, okay? Your body type is like a Pilates princess with huge breasts. What else could Vicenzo not like about that? He might even use your breasts as his comfort zone. They're big and so soft."

I gave her a sharp look because of the words she was using. Sometimes, I'm still shocked by how straightforward Ornella can be.

"No, it's not like that, but kind of. I'm just not used to someone seeing my body, and what if he finds out I'm not a virgin anymore? What if he finds out why I'm a little disgusted with my own body?" I signed to her.

Ornella's expression immediately softened after hearing what I said.

"Shit. Yeah, sorry about what I said earlier, Fiorella. I was really insensitive about that," she apologized.

I laughed quietly before signing back, "It's okay. I know you can be straightforward sometimes."

"But I'm still sorry. And as for that topic, if you're ready to tell him about your past, I know Vicenzo will accept you. It's not your fault. The person who did that to you is the one at fault," she said from the other line. I saw her adjust her position on the bed and lie down before speaking again.

"Vicenzo doesn't seem like the type of guy who would look down on you if he knew. The guys who do that are the ones who have a low emotional intelligence. Vicenzo will understand everything when you're ready to open up to him, especially your legs," she even made a joke at that point, raising and lowering her eyebrows in front of the screen, teasing me again.

I shook my head and raised my hand to sign to her. "You think so? We'll get there eventually, Ornella. Not everything needs to be rushed—"

I froze when I saw on the screen that Ornella's eyes were wide and she seemed to be pointing behind me. I furrowed my brow as she waved at the screen as if she was saying goodbye, and then the FaceTime call abruptly ended.

When I turned around, Vicenzo was standing right behind me. I stood up in surprise, and then he spoke.

"Come inside. We need to talk," he said, inviting me.

I nodded and signed 'wait' before turning to clean up the mess from the meal.

"Just leave that there. I'll have Rosa get it," he told me.

I glanced at him, still unsure whether to follow what he said. In the end, I decided to followed him to the living room, where we would talk.

I sat on the soft sofa and waited for him. After a while, he came out of the kitchen holding two glasses of orange juice. He placed them on the center table and sat down in an empty one-seater chair.

"Matteo made these and gave them to you," he said.

I raised my hand and signed in front of him. "Thank you."

I knew he understood sign language for 'thank you,' so I didn't text it out. But since I wasn't sure what he was going to say to me, I took out my phone and texted him my question.

Fiorella:

By the way, what were you going to tell me?

He lowered his gaze to his phone when he got a notification that someone texted him.

"I'm just telling you now that we're going to the Philippines," he replied after reading my question in the text.

I nodded to what he said. The Philippines? It's my first time going there.

"That will be our honeymoon, so you have two more days to prepare the things you'll bring. If you don't have everything, I can have my staff buy what you need at the mall."

SHANGPU