For The Famiglia: Arranged Devotion (Complete)

Lie for me

I don't remember how long we sat on the floor, my hand holding Fia’s the blood covering it slowly drying against her skin. When Santos came and organised to clean it up so casually as though someone had spilt milk on the floor of course we couldn't go to the hospital either so for a few hours Fia was put in Santos and my guest room one of the family doctors patching up her wounds. When I finally laid eyes on her after she was cleaned up did I realise the damage half her face was swollen, her eyes almost sealed closed from the extent of the damage to her face, bruises were undoubtedly going to show up later on from the red marks littering her body as well as the bandaged areas like her shoulder, hand and thigh where she had been stabbed. I couldn't even hide my worry as I stared at her, Fia was silent however staring out into the bright lights of the city. “Fia... What happened?” I couldn't stop myself from asking I knew that anytime Marco would show up or perhaps Santos’s father and uncles demanding to know what happened, why one of their men was in his home in a puddle of his own blood.

Fia let out a sigh “We've been married two years” she croaked out “he's been hassling me to have a baby... I don't know why he seemed happy enough sticking it everywhere else around the city” she scoffed before turning her gaze towards me “I got so frustrated I ended up confessing I was still taking the pill then... All hell broke loose.”

“He hurt you?”

She slowly nodded “I was getting food ready for dinner and he...” Fia sniffled glancing at her bandaged hand “he stabbed me through the hand and... Went from there” Fia’s voice suddenly fell weak “I was cutting carrots... The knife was just laying there and he was hurting me so much I didn't know what to do....”

“Fia...” I had to keep myself from crying at her words “Fia” I called for her again. She was so hurt, broken it was difficult to watch but I placed my hand over her non bandaged one though she was quick to flinch away.

“I... I just... I'm going to get some sleep” her weak stuttering voice carried out the words and she turned her head away. I didn't push her instead stared silently she had been through too much. I shouldn't have been as surprised as I was this wasn't something completely out of the norm these extremes however weren't something we were often confronted with.

:::

As soon as Fia was asleep I slipped out of the room. Rubbing my frustrated, tired hands over my face, however, I felt very alert when there was a knock at the door. My heart could have burst from my chest knowing no doubt it was someone here to find out what happened. I was panicking in my mind and did the only thing I felt I could, plead. Santos was about to walk down the staircase when I caught his arm to stop. He looked confused at my sudden action after all I wasn't one to touch him “Santos...”

“I need to get the door, Catalina” he spoke as though pointing out the obvious.

“I know but Santos please--”

“Please?” a smirk crossed his face it wasn't of amusement but more realisation, “she told you what happened.”

“Yes...” I couldn't hold out for our usual tit for tat games not with such urgency over the matter.

“She did it didn't she?” it was framed as a question but it was more a statement.

“You can't tell them please, Santos” at that moment I wasn't above pleading. Arranging a hit amongst men happened from time to time but a wife killing her husband no matter the circumstance “please...” another urgent knock at the door.

“I have to get the door” he simply replied letting his arm slip from my hold. His cold mint eyes stared at me for a moment before turning away. What else could I do, what could I have given, I would have done so much to protect Fia. I stayed by the rails of the top floor landing listening as Santos descended the rest of the stairs and made his way over to the door. I waited on bated breath with what he had to say.

“Make it quick, Santos. I have had a long day and I want this sorted quick” Marco sighed his voice quickly filling the place “what do we have on our hands here?” I wanted to scream but instead sunk my teeth into my lower lip hoping Santos felt some sort of even pity with my pleading and he wouldn't give up Fia. Marco had seemed reasonable but at the end of the day, he was one of the heads of New York.

“You could have called if you were busy you know” Santos spoke so coolly. Sometimes his relaxed demeanour was unsettling.

“Just tell me, would you? Is there anything I need to take care of?” Marcos seemed more weary than usual as he stared at Santos not even bothering to make his way inside.

Santos glanced in my direction for a moment I felt his harsh gaze on me for a moment as I kept my breath held waiting for his response. God knows what would happen to Fia if he told Marcos the blood was on her hands. The circumstances wouldn't matter the only thing that would matter is who she killed. Santos shook his head “nothing for you to take care of. You know the guy pissed everyone off left right and centre no doubt crossed a line somewhere” Santos shrugged the situation off.

“What about the wife?” Marcos pressed.

“She's staying here with Catarina, she doesn't remember anything not surprising she's had the s**t beaten out of her” Santos explained further. Marcos stared at his brother for a moment before nodding.

“I will keep an ear out for anyone inclining on taking his position. His father won't be pleased but if he operated better he wouldn't have been in this position. Even dabbling in the drug side of the business” Marcos scoffed “tends to catch up when you don't operate properly” Marcos straightened his jacket “I better go then if that's all. Give Fia my condolences” and then he left I remained seated peering through the bars apart of me shocked.

“Thank you... I didn't think you would but thank you” I spoke as soon as Santos closed the door.

“You're my wife Catarina. It clearly meant a lot to you” he stared up at me from the first floor he took a few steps before pausing “I know I lied to you and I apologise when my father insisted to do what it takes to win you over I didn't think much of it because didn't know you but now...” he sighed rubbing a hand over his face “now we are here and we can't continue a marriage of hatred. It won't get us anywhere” I wasn't sure if he was faking it or being sincere. He looked as tired as his brother, however.

A silence remained between us and I don't know what he took from my lack of response as he turned away to the kitchen “Santos” I found myself calling after him. He stopped his back remaining to be “I don't hate you.”