The Mafia King's Bride

7 | You'll See

Eloise

I get in touch with my brother when I wake up in the morning. Dad isn't home but Elliot will be so we can visit for a little while. Surprisingly I am awake at a decent time but I am still pretty drowsy. Upon looking outside I see that it is going to be a chilly day. The sky is dark gray, minacious with its possibility of heavy rain. The neighborhood trees blow in the wind, the first of the dead leaves being tossed ruthlessly from the branches and skittering across the sidewalk.

I spend a long time in the wonderful shower. When I get out of the shower I fall victim to a cold draft and by the time I am able to wrap a towel around myself my teeth are chattering and my skin is salted with goosebumps. I dress quickly in a pair of loose jeans and a cashmere sweater I inherited from my mom. Near the bottom the threads have started to fray and around the neck are a few small holes. I don't care. I will keep it until it disintegrates.

I blow-dry my hair and put on less makeup, reminded of the embarrassment I felt when Dominic mentioned how fancy I looked. I know I try too hard but to have it pointed out to me was a rude awakening I wasn't prepared for. All I wear today is mascara and tinted lip gloss. Scrutinizing myself in the mirror, trying to get used to the way my skin looks without at least a thin layer of makeup, it occurs to me that no matter how exhausted I was for university I never failed to get all dolled up. I'm pretty sure none of my friends from campus have seen me without makeup.

Stepping outside of the bathroom, making my way down into the kitchen, Dominic has once again beat me downstairs and began cooking. He is frying some eggs in a pan, toast with cheddar cheese and tomatoes is broiling in the toaster oven, microwaveable bacon is in the microwave—this makes me raise an eyebrow in good humor.

"Sue me," he says, extending a hand to me.

I don't take his hand in mine but I do move so I am within arms' reach. He sets his hand on my back and kisses my forehead. He keeps me nestled close to him and we watch the eggs cook. What a domestic, normal scene it must be to witness. It is certainly one to experience.

My stomach rumbles with butterflies rather than tumbling with somersaults.

✿✿✿

We drive up to my dad's home. My brothers beautiful black Porsche, with its barely-legally tinted windows, sits in the driveway where our dad's car would usually be. The ash trees out front have begun turning yellow at the edges in preparation for autumn. Autumn in this neighborhood is beautiful. In the field behind a cul-de-sac a few blocks down is a community garden that grows pumpkins that are ready to harvest around early-to-mid October. It's a huge celebration. You can hear the children's laughter for streets.

We pull up in front of the house and my brother is standing in front of the door. I waste no time in ripping off my seatbelt and leaping out of the vehicle. Elliot makes no attempt to close the gap between us. I lose steam as I walk up the steps towards him. Slowly, cautiously, we take each other in our arms. I am comforted by the fact that we hug for a long time.

Dominic comes up behind us. I pull away from Elliot, watching him as he watches Dominic. There is a defensiveness in Elliot's blue eyes that makes me nervous for what is about to happen. I glance back at Dominic who keeps a reverential distance and maintains amicable body language. Elliot can be volatile and unpredictable, but he is smart and, thankfully, not impulsive.

"You two look like you could be twins," Dominic says.

"We get that a lot," Elliot concedes tersely. "I am older than her by two years. I am the older brother—the eldest sibling. I am responsible for her. Do you understand what I am getting at?"

"Let's take this inside," Dominic suggests. We heed his suggestion, removing our shoes, planting ourselves on the red sofas in the living room. Hospitality has never been Elliot's strong suit. "Her two titles are not mutually exclusive. She is both your sister and my wife. I am responsible for her now, too. She lives under my roof, after all. It's no longer my home but our home."

"Eloise is a good girl," Elliot says. I hate the way he says girl but I know he doesn't mean it offensively. It's very little sister-y. "She has made a huge sacrifice. You have, too, but she is a girl in man's world. She is a girl in your world. It is up to you most of the time to make sure nothing happens to her. God help me, if something does..."

Elliot doesn't finish his statement and that is a wise decision. Veiled threats are tolerable but clear threats are unforgiveable. Dominic, sitting next to me, facing my brother who is sitting across from us, puts his hand on my thigh—there is nothing provocative about it, just pure affection. I look up at him dotingly. His focus remains on my brother.

"I have been preparing for her ever since I found out about our marriage. Notice how I say marriage and not arrangement, even though both are acceptable. I plan on being a good husband to your sister. I want to take care of her. I want to do right by Eloise. I am not a good man—" Elliot tells him his name to fill in the blank. "—Elliot, but I want to be a good husband."

"Lo," Elliot addresses me, calling me by my nickname. He speaks in French. "Has he been alright to you so far?"

"Yes," I say immediately, honestly. "He's been real alright to me."

"I know she wouldn't lie to me. If you begin mistreating her, Dominic, she will tell me about it. I won't pretend to be as powerful as you, or to have connections of the same caliber as you, but as her brother, her blood, her only sibling, I implore you to continue treating her well. I will take action if she tells me you've begun abusing her like so many of our kind do to their wives."

Dominic stands and Elliot stands. For a moment I think they are going to lunge at one another but instead Dominic extends his hand. Elliot hesitates, looking to me for reassurance, and when I nod he extends his hand in return and slides it into Dominic's. Dominic keeps Elliot's hand in his, sincere in his following words:

"You have my word, as a man, that I will only treat her better as more time is shared between us."

"I don't believe you, to be honest, so you will have to prove yourself to me."

My jaw clenches nervously.

Dominic says coolly: "I don't have to prove myself to anyone. You'll see."

✿✿✿

I follow behind Dominic in my yellow Volkswagen beetle. It was my gift on my sixteenth birthday after I got my license using whatever vehicle my brother was driving at the time. It smells like the strawberry air freshener I put in a week ago, the radio has just begun crackling, the brakes squeak when I am driving slow, and I love my car. It gets me from point A to point B reliably despite its quirks. I am due to take her into the shop in a couple weeks. I can't forget my appointment. This unit is what I am responsible for. Ha!

The brakes squeal like pigs and hiss like cats as I pull into Dominic's driveway. I cringe when I get out of the vehicle and he tells me that it's from the dust on the gravel roads. A good wash would get the dust out and my brakes would stop making that horrible witchy sound. I shrug. The rain will wash it just fine, I'm sure.

As soon as we step inside we hear the first drops of rain against the roof which quickly picks up into a steady, heavy patter. Dominic takes my hand in his and pulls me into the living room made for socializing and not for watching TV. He sits on the sofa and indicates that he wants me to sit on his lap, which I do shyly and awkwardly. He maneuvers me so that I have a clear view of the window, wrapping his arms around me. I wrap my arms over his almost instinctively. I am surprised by the natural ease of sinking into him.

"This is nice," he says at the first flash of lightning.

"Hmmmm," I hum in agreement, which is drowned out by the sound of thunder.