Luciano's Forbidden Desire
Chapter 7
Chapter Six
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Elizabeth
*~°*~°*~°*
My mama hates me.
No, maybe that was too harsh-my mama looks at me like she hates me.
Every time she looks at me, I feel like I'm something she can't stand the sight of.
A disappointment.
A disgrace.
An excuse of a daughter.
My heart always sinks when she looks at me like that. Over the years I've learnt how to control my tears when she hits me or says degrading words to me. Although sometimes I let the tears flow when the words are too much for me to bear.
And something tells me today will be one of those days.
When Mother Roselyn called me into her office earlier, telling me I had a visitor, I strongly hoped it would be Gemma-my sister and not Mama. To my dismay, my wish wasn't granted.
She stood behind the Cathedral, her normal waiting spot. Even though I know she picks it because it was supposed to be the perfect place for her to hit me without anyone interfering.
Not like if they interfered, she would ever stop.
"Hello Mama," I muttered, releasing my trembling fingers from my habit. "You haven't been here in weeks, is there a problem at home?"
She murmurs something under her breath, something I didn't hear.
Mama gives me a once over look from my head downwards, a sigh following after. "Gemma is getting married," she revealed, her face beaming with pride. "She is getting married to one of the Don's trusted men-his enforcer. It's a good arrangement for our families."
"Gemma-" I tried to speak but she cut me off.
"The only reason I'm here telling you this is because the Don needs everyone in attendance when they arrive for dinner tonight. That includes Gemma and... you. So you will make up some excuse and come back home today, because unlike some people who only bring bad luck with them, there are others who bring us lots of good luck. And your sister is one of them."
I ignore the insulting remark made to rattle me and focus on the main reason she's here.
Gemma is getting married?!
Does she have any idea about this?
Regardless of the fact that Gemma and I are of the same age-a theory I've tried to decipher since we were kids. We aren't twins, neither is there any reasonable explanation for why we fall under the same age gap. Which is why I can't help but wonder why we are the same age.
Whenever I ask Mama about it, she always shrugs it off and tells me off for asking her stupid questions. And since then, I've never really asked. Regardless of this fact, it doesn't mean Gemma is ready to be forced into an arranged marriage.
No one gets involved in arranged marriages in this century. Such things are supposed to be of the past.
"Have you asked Gemma if this is what she wants? If she really wants to-" The words were still in my mouth when a harsh stinging slap collided with my cheek, rattling my teeth as my head whipped to the side. I stumbled back, the taste of blood coating my mouth. A glance at her fingers confirms she's wearing a ring, and it must have cut my lip.
I quickly wiped it off before anyone would see. It's nothing a little balm can't fix.
My eyes simmered with tears and I gripped my habit so I wouldn't lose control. That would only get her angry even more.
Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes as I placed a hand over my cheek. Biting my lower lip to keep my cries in, I mustered courage to turn to the side, in order to check if anyone saw. Seeing that the coast was clear, I turned my eyes back to Mama, whose stare, if able, would have burnt a hole through me.
"Don't you stand there and question my decisions. Are you saying am incapable of making the right decisions for my daughter? Huh?" She shouted, pointing her finger at me.
When I didn't answer immediately, she grabbed me by my hair and yanked us away from the spot we were. I bit back on my bottom lip to supress the pain from how harsh she held my hair.
"No Mama. That's not what I'm saying. You misunderstood me, please. I just asked because I needed to know what Gemma thought of the arrangement," I managed to say.
She released her grip on my hair, her eyes darting around, checking for any object she would use on me to satisfy her level of anger.
Panic clawed at my chest as I stepped back away from her, my safety instincts kicking in.
Her face fell when she couldn't find anything to use on me, so she resorted to the next best thing-using her mouth.
"You stupid, foolish, ungrateful child! You will never cease to grasp an opportunity to insult me... to question me."
"I didn't mean... it's not what I meant."
She reached out and grabbed me by the back of my neck, shaking me so hard I'm afraid she might break it.
A short reprieve comes when she shoves me so hard I bounce against the wall, crumpling to the floor. My hands remained close to my mouth, to suppress my cries from getting out.
"You know what?! I think you're jealous. You wish it could have been you they wanted. But, let me tell you... no one wants an epitome of bad luck like you. No one would want you. Thank goodness you're locked up here. Stick to God. He seems to be the only one that can tolerate your nonsense," she yelled, finally picking up a large sizeable rock in her hand.
Oh my God.
I quickly stood up, my hands to my mouth, but the fear that she might smash it on me chopped at my insides.
"I'm so sorry, Mama. I didn't mean it like that," I muttered, as fear clogged my throat. When she got closer, I closed my eyes, screaming loudly.
But nothing came afterwards.
When I opened them, Mama was fuming with rage, the stone now on the floor in pieces.
Seems like my scream startled her and she thought someone must have heard.
She grabbed my hand forcefully and pulled me towards her. "Let's go! I'm done with you and your drama."
I don't want to go home with her because she will only finish what she started. There's no reason for me to be at this dinner. Mama can just make an excuse for me. But I guess if the Don gives an order, everyone must follow it strictly.
"Mama I have to take permission before I leave," I told her as she dragged me off the premises through the back gate so no one would see us.
She didn't respond nor did she spare me any glance. Her eyes were fixated on the road with nothing but hatred and digust in them.
Hatred towards me.
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