The mafia wasn't something that had interested me before. I remember back in highschoo I did a little research on it when I met a certain Italian boy. His father was part of the Italian mafia, and he was doing a foreign exchange program in Turkey. After three years of keeping in close touch with one another, he shipped a gorgeous ring to me, the way it shone bright in the sun making my eyes water. Two years later and still engaged, I was sitting in my rich home in Naples, Italy.

Renzo was sitting across from me at the over-sized dinner table, his thick black locks combed back with a few hairs falling against his forehead. He had bright brown eyes that were bold and narrow, almost foreboding to all who did not know him. We were eating some sort of fettuccini dish that I still didn't know the name of, because I didn't care to learn this culture. Why did it matter? Now that he was a full-fledged Mafioso, he was never home anymore, but rather in America cheating on me with American girls that hardly understood what the mafia really was.
That was okay. In five days, he'd be breaking one of the ten commandments, and he'd be hurt for doing so.
"
Wives must be treated with respect."
And the price for breaking these commandments was hefty, certainly. Though I was supposed to be his bride in only a few more days, inside my heart was more hatred for him than there was love anymore. I didn't always hate him. I accepted his proposal because I had fallen in love with him many years ago. But when I moved here, he began diving further and further into the Camorra, the mafia that now knew everything about us. Right now, someone could be watching us through our windows, and if he was a fellow Mafioso in the Camorra, we would not be able to kill him. Speak of the devil, the doorbell rang and Renzo jumped to answer it, almost spilling alfredo sauce on his new silk dress shirt I had just bought him. When he came back into the dining room he kissed my cheek and said something in Italian, and ran out the door. Once again, I was left alone.

That was the situation four days prior to now. I stood and watched his casket lower into the ground, my black veil covering my eyes as my gloved hand covered my lips. Feigning tears was easy to do. The other Mafioso and their wives and children would give me hugs and pat me on my back, their broken English giving me wishes of happiness and their greatest condolences. I thanked them with a "grazie" and then stood until all others were gone, seeing no human in sight. Once I was sure no one was around, I knelt down onto the mound of freshly piled soil.
"Where do I begin, Renzo?" I said aloud, taking the hat and veil off as the sun was going down now. "I'm kinda happy, now. A lot than what I was for the past year or so. Is it bad that I'm excited you're gone? Now I won't have to hate you anymore." I don't know how long the conversation between Renzo and I went on, but when it finally ended, the sky was dark and full of stars that were barely twinkling through the clouds. I didn't feel like standing, though, as if my body was one with the earth beneath it.
"Ciao, ragazza."
Well shit.
I looked over my shoulder to see who had come, and noticed it was one of Renzo's associates. He'd come to a few of Renzo's dinner parties in the past year, and I assumed he was a newer member of the Mafia since he was so much younger than I was. Only by three years, most likely, but that could be a lot to anyone.
"Ciao, Mafioso." I greeted, unsure if it was inappropriate me for to call him by such a title, as I knew he was a Mafioso, but I did not know him personally. I managed to stand warily, my legs stiff from how long I had sat on the ground, and I noticed how dirty my dress was. Oh well~.
He held his hand out to me politely, almost like I was someone of importance. I took it gingerly. "Mi dispiace per…" He began speaking to me in Italian, causing my face to turn into an expression of confusion, my friendly nature returning in the awkwardness of the situation. "Ah… I don't know Italian." I coughed out, my accent thick and heavy, though my English was reasonably understandable. The man's face twisted into something I could not entirely place until he started yelling at me. "Mio Dio, ragazza! You come to Italy and can't even speak Italian?" He went on and on about why he despised it when tourists did that, especially people he was going to have to work with from now on.
"What do you mean you're going to have to work with me?" I asked. He gave me a roll of his amber eyes before he ran a hand through his dark hair. "Renzo's dead." He stated, and all I could think was Thanks Captain Obvious until he took a breath to continue. "Being his girl, you're a Mafiasa, Selvi Adnan."
Oh, right. I was the only female in his family, and his death forced his responsibilities onto my shoulders now. The only problem? I had no idea how the mafia even worked! The man must have understood this because he shook his head at me, something of a smile forming on his face. "I'll teach you how it works around here, ragazza. After you get through your initiation ceremony. I came to give you the invitation." He held out a small card to me that was a creamy white with maroon border on it, the text a fancy Corsiva font. "So I should wear a gown to this?" I questioned, having read the term "white tie event" in clear English. The Italian nodded his head at my question. "Ciao, bella." He hummed, before turning to walk away. Maybe it was simply the fact that, though my fiancé had died and I was already sure that the most handsome male I'd ever seen had just spoken to me, my heart was pounding.
No, it had nothing to do with the mafia.
"Hey, wait!" I shouted, grabbing my things and running to him, almost out of breath. He turned back at me. "Si?"
"Your name? I'm afraid I've misplaced it…" I mumbled, searching the hazy and useless memory of mine. Since I had moved here, instead of truly remembering things I have seemed to be storing them in a box that was tightly locked, and it did not desire to be opened. He chuckled lightly, which made a small smile form on my lips. For someone who just lost her fiancé, you seem pretty cheerful. Ma, that's alright. We know what he was doing. I'm Lovino Vargas, e I'll be in charge of you."