Principessa of Chicago, page 1
Principessa of Chicago
Book 2 in The Rocchetti Dynasty
Bree Porter
Copyright © 2020 Bree Porter
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN-13: 9781234567890
ISBN-10: 1477123456
Cover design by: Art Painter
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America
To every single person who emailed me, messaged me and wrote reviews.
Your kind words and love for this story has meant more to me than I could ever possibly convey.
This one’s for you guys.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Books In This Series
Acknowledgements
About The Author
Chapter One
I rubbed the delicate fabric between my fingers.
Rosa di Calbo peered over my shoulder and made a face. “She can’t wear that, Sophia. She doesn’t have the build for it.”
We both turned to see where Narcisa de Sanctis was sitting. Thin and breakable, and shaking like a leaf.
“I suppose you’re right.” I said, turning back to the dress.
Dress shopping was always a big exciting day out for the women in the family. Dragging along some poor girl while everyone celebrated a new marriage was a beloved mafia pastime. My own wedding dress had been bought quickly and efficiently by family members, and I remember the day without any fondness.
However, despite all that, I was enjoying myself. I liked scouring through the racks and fabrics, trying to figure out what Narcisa would look best in. Narcisa, herself, was having a miserable time and not even filling up her glass with champagne had put a smile on her face.
I slid away from the racks and towards her. She glanced up at me as I approached with huge doe-like eyes.
“Why don’t you come and help me look, Narcisa?” I asked. “You’re the one who has to wear it.”
Narcisa swallowed. “No, thank you.”
I sat down next to her, my ankles giving a sigh of relief. “Then you don’t mind if I come sit with you? My body is not made for standing anymore.”
Her eyes flickered down to my swelling stomach. At 20 weeks, it had become obvious I was pregnant–and also reduced my wardrobe significantly. “I don’t mind.” She said quietly.
I patted her hand. “Do you have a favourite so far?”
She shook her head.
I glanced around the shop. There were half a dozen women trying to find Narcisa the perfect dress, though we had had no luck so far. Tina de Sanctis was being led around by Nina Genovese, who had deemed herself in charge of the wedding–which was fair enough, Tina hadn’t been very interested in planning the wedding.
Most of the women here were married, with the exception of Elena and Narcisa. But Narcisa would be married in a month’s time, with Elena’s wedding following swiftly after. Out of everyone in the shop, they were the two most miserable.
I understood and I did not envy them.
“I am never up in the city anymore,” I said to Narcisa, “but you are always welcome at the penthouse. Just call ahead and I will be there to greet you, yes?”
Narcisa flickered her eyes to me in slight surprise. “Really?”
“Of course. I miss it sometimes–the city. I would love for a reason to visit.”
She looked back down at my stomach and seemed to pale even more. “Thank you.”
Her attention must’ve sparked something because the baby began to twist then. The baby had been moving a lot more lately, growing restless in their little home. The first time I had felt the baby move I had thought it was just a furious bowel movement, but then my baby moved again and again. Now I got worried when I didn’t feel them wriggling about.
I rubbed a hand over my stomach. “They’re moving about.” I laughed. “Probably sick of all this shopping.”
“Me and them both.” Narcisa said, then blushed furiously. “I mean–”
“I know what you meant,” I smiled comfortingly at her. “I understand. Weddings are…nerve-racking.”
She twisted her hands in her lap. The champagne glass sat untouched beside her. “I suppose.”
“Sophia!” Rosa called.
I turned to her. “Yes, Rosa?”
She pulled out a thick white dress and waved it excitedly. “Tell Narcisa we have found her the perfect dress.”
The fact that Narcisa was sitting right next to me seemed to escape Rosa.
Narcisa did not argue–unlike Elena, who had made it her mission to make planning her wedding as difficult as it could be–and obediently allowed the older women to dress her up. The shopkeeper wasn’t really sure what to do, as her job had been taken over. She wasn’t even allowed to set the veil; Nina took it from her.
All the women joined me on the couch again as we waited for Narcisa to reveal herself to us and do a little beauty pageant.
“How are you feeling, Sophia?” Rosa asked, taking Narcisa’s seat and her champagne. “You are glowing, I must say.”
I smiled gracefully. I wasn’t glowing but it was kind of her to say I was. “I feel pregnant.”
They all laughed.
“You’re halfway now, my dear,” Nina said, patting my arm roughly.
I cringed.
“I can’t believe we’re going to have a baby Rocchetti by fall.” Rosa said excitedly. She gulped down the champagne. “Have you and Alessandro chosen any names, yet?”
“Uh, no–”
Rosa cut me off. “How is Alessandro?”
I didn’t reveal anything on my face. But I could feel all the women’s curious stares on me. Everyone knew we had been living apart and everyone knew my marriage was equivalent to a business deal. But no one knew the exact details, the nitty-gritty facts.
I wasn’t inclined to share them.
“Working hard, as usual.” I said. “How is Riccardo?”
Rosa ignored my question. A greedy look had overtaken her face. “I had hoped to invite you two to dinner, but I wasn’t sure where to ring. The house or the city penthouse?”
Rosa was purposely trying to make me look bad. I smiled in response. “The house, of course, Rosa.” I smiled over my shoulder at the other women. “What a silly question!” They laughed along with me.
“I wasn’t sure because Alessandro is still living at the penthouse.” She interrupted, not to be laughed at. “Are you two living separately?”
And there it was, the question. The answer was: yes. Alessandro and I rarely spoke, if spoke at all. I made my home in the house in the gated community, whereas Alessandro had opted to stay in the city penthouse for ‘work’. His excuse was pathetic, but I wasn’t going to fight him on it.
I wasn’t sure I wanted Alessandro living with me.
“My husband has some loose ends to tie up in the city and I wanted the house ready before he moved in.” I gave Rosa a smile. “He works so hard; it would be cruel to make him come home to a house that isn’t finished. Would you do such a thing to your Riccardo?”
Rosa pressed her lips tightly together. “No, of course not.” She glanced over my shoulder at the other woman and seemed to draw power from them. “Do you know when he will move in with you?”
I only laughed. “You know how these men are with their work.”
All the other women laughed, if a bit nervously.
Rosa only nodded. “Of course. They all work so hard.” Debatable. “Hopefully, he will move in soon, so you’re not alone in that big house.”
I nodded in agreement.
Tiny power challenges from the other women had been very common lately. Tiffs that I barely registered but still important enough to note. It wasn’t that they had something out for me–not particularly. But I was the highest-ranking woman in the family and my marriage was on the rocks, making me easy but juicy prey.
The other two instances had happened at other dinners and luncheons. Angie Genovese had tried to make me admit my marriage was a sham, jabbing at me all night. I hadn’t been able to respond, still very delicate. Eventually, I was forced to back down, marking a loss for me.
But I had redeemed myself when a few weeks later, Patr
Patrizia hadn’t tried me since.
I didn’t like being actively rude to the other women in the Outfit, but I wouldn’t be an easy opponent. That would just make the entire situation even worse.
Before I could respond to Rosa, the shopkeeper came stumbling out. Like she had been shoved onto a stage. “Uh, Narcisa–”
Narcisa was shoved out just after the shopkeeper, the two nearly colliding.
Ornella Palermo followed afterwards, critically eyeing Narcisa. “I don’t like this dress! Rosa, you have abhorrent taste.”
Narcisa looked lovely, of course. If not a bit pale and pinched. But the dress itself was traditional, with a long train and sleeves. It bagged around Narcisa’s waist, looking too big for her. When she lifted her arms, empty dress hung off her armpits. She could take flight in the thing there was so much room!
Tina hovered by her daughter but made no move to adjust the dress. Only said, “I do not think this is the one.”
Murmurs of agreement came from the other women. Except for Rosa, who chirped, “She is too skinny! Fatten her up, Tina.”
Narcisa looked like she was going to die from embarrassment. As did her mother.
I rose, leaning on the couch for support. My ankles ached in protest at me putting weight on them. “I’ll choose one. Christ, Rosa, we’re shopping for lovely Narcisa, not an elephant.”
Rosa went red.
I would leave Rosa alone now, but one little jab her way was well-deserved.
Elena rose with me, concern in her eyes. But she didn’t say anything as I trotted through the racks, running my hands over the dresses and assessing them.
“Have you seen a dress you like?” I asked Elena.
She scowled at me.
I laughed in response, the sound abrupt and surprised. “Sorry, you know I’m just teasing.” I pulled out a dress with frilly sleeves before quickly shoving it back. “Perhaps I’ll buy you a nice potato sack and you can wear that.”
“I’d rather wear a potato sack then one of these hideous dresses.” She shot back.
“Do you have a preference?”
“Idaho potatoes.”
I laughed again, then covered my mouth to quieten myself. I shoved at her. “Don’t make me laugh.”
Elena smiled slightly. “It’s nice to hear you laughing. I haven’t heard you laugh for two months.”
I fell silent and buried myself in another rack of dresses.
“Sophia…” She tried.
“What, Elena?” I wasn’t in the mood to be prodded by Elena as well, but she came from a place of concern, so there was no point getting angry.
Elena shifted on her feet and glanced around, like she was expecting someone to leap from the racks. She turned back to me, green eyes soft. “We haven’t really spoken about…about what happened.”
I pulled out a dress with little sparkly beads running down the bodice. No, I thought, that wouldn’t suit Narcisa.
“Don’t ignore me,” Elena warned. “At least speak to someone–if not me. Even Beatrice said you have been quiet about…the incident.”
“Incident?” The word tore from me furiously. “My sister is back from the dead, Elena! Cat is alive and well and a traitor! Incident! Che palle!”
“There you go!” Elena said. “Let it out.”
I tore a dress from the racks and leaned closer to Elena, whispering harshly. “I know you mean well, but I really do not want to talk about it. Leave it alone.”
“It’s not healthy to avoid–”
“How do you feel about your marriage?”
Her jaw tensed. “Low blow.”
It was. It really was. But I was sick of this topic.
I turned on my heel and stormed back towards the women. They all lifted their heads up as I approached, and I quickly forced myself to calm down. I held up the dress.
“Narcisa, do you want to try this one?” My tone was still tight, but I tried to sound softer for Narcisa. Afterall, she was already having a crap day.
Narcisa took the dress and scurried back to the change rooms, Ornella and Tina following. The shopkeeper didn’t even try to involve herself.
When Elena found her way back to the couches, I had already taken my seat. She shook her head at me but didn’t say anything.
Nina offered me a glass of water. “You must be thirsty, my dear. I remember being thirsty the entirety of my first pregnancy.”
I took the water gratefully. “I’m more hungry than thirsty these days.”
Her eyes gleamed. “Of course.” She waved a hand over to where Elena was sitting. “Elena was meant to ask you about the menu for the baby shower. Did you say you wanted little quiches or sandwiches?”
“Sandwiches. Egg is touch and go these days.”
Nina nodded and gave me an assessing look. She opened her mouth to say something else, but Ornella came thundering from the change rooms, smiling brightly.
“This is the one! Narcisa, come here–”
Narcisa was yanked out of the change rooms.
The dress did look gorgeous on her, even if it did need a bit of trimming. It slid down her figure, giving her some curves, and had a beautiful long trail that stretched out behind her. It was short-sleeved, the sleeves were decorated with floral lace and made her shoulders look a bit bigger.
“You look gorgeous!” Cried some of the women.
Narcisa went red. “Thank you.”
Ornella tugged at the bodice, which hung a bit low. “We will have this changed, yes? Give you some more modesty.” Narcisa looked relieved. “Now, we must figure out the veil! Sophia, you do it. You’re charmed when it comes to this stuff.”
The rest of the shopping experience was more enjoyable, even if Elena did start getting an attitude when we tried to convince her to try on some dresses. But after Narcisa had been dressed up like a bride, everyone had been in a much better mood. Rosa had even pulled out some shoes for me to try, her attempt at reconciliation.
As we said our goodbyes, all the women expressed excitement for my baby shower. It would be the next time we all saw each other, and everyone was excited to celebrate the newest Rocchetti, even if my own position in the Rocchettis was now a debatable topic.
As I left, Nina grabbed my wrist. “Sophia, if I might have a word.”
I smiled at her but on the inside, I was dreading what she might say. Would she, like Rosa, try to undermine me? Could I go up against Nina Genovese?
“I would like to invite you to dinner.” She said. “I don’t like the idea of you in that big house all alone. Come and have dinner with Davide and I, we would love for you to join us.”
I hadn’t expected a dinner invitation but accepted it gratefully. “Of course, I would love to.”
Nina thinned her lips and I thought she might say something else, but she didn’t, and I left the store.
When I stepped out into the hot June day, I almost wished the outing had been longer.
Summer had come with a vengeance to Chicago and paired with the heat I was generating as a symptom of pregnancy, I was having a miserable time. Usually, I loved summer. I loved going to the beach or sunbathing on the lawn, but so far, this summer had completely and utterly sucked.
But the city had welcomed it. The streets were packed with cars, restaurants and cafes had overflowed onto the streets, and now people dressed for beauty instead of warmth. Polpetto had been enjoying our sunset walks, when it was cooler outside but still warm enough to not dress him up in his little booties.
Outside the bridal shop, parked illegally, Oscuro leaned against the huge black Range Rover. He watched the street with beady eyes, his hand close to his gun. I didn’t know how he could stand wearing all black in this weather, I would tear my skin off.
When he saw me, Oscuro straightened and stepped off the car. “Done, ma’am?”
I ran my eyes up the street on instinct and though there was many cars and people, none of them looked familiar.
Oscuro opened the door for me and I slid in, refusing to meet his eyes.
I wasn’t angry at Oscuro…not really. Perhaps I was still irritated–maybe even upset. But I wasn’t sure how not to be. Forgiveness felt unattainable these days. Even if I hated being angry at Oscuro and hated giving him the silent treatment, I just couldn’t find it in myself to get over the secrets, the betrayal.
