He Said It Was A Prank

The day before the family’s position transfer deadline, I received an order assigning me to the Bellarosa branch.

It had come from Don Enzo Vitelli, who also happened to be my fiance.

My fingers went cold as I dialed his number.

His voice was drawling, as if he had just rolled out of bed. “Oh, Lucrezia submitted that for you. She said it was a prank. She wanted to see if you’d notice. Well, you did notice, so just cancel it yourself.”

Lucrezia was the new assistant with whom he had a thing with.

I held the phone and stayed silent for a long moment.

All those six years I had fought for my place in the family, yet someone was treating it as a prank.

I did not argue or scream.

I simply packed my things calmly and boarded the flight to Bellarosa on schedule.

Enzo panicked.

He called back. His voice finally lost that lazy drawl. “I told you to cancel it. Have you cancelled it?”

“No.”

When I found the transfer notice, I was cleaning a trusty Beretta I had used for three years.

Enzo Vitelli and I had an agreement.

Once the family’s personnel changes were settled, we would get married.

We had made that promise four years ago.

I somehow turned out being transferred thousands of miles away, to Bellarosa.

If I had not made it a habit to check internal files myself, I would not have even had the chance to cancel it.

The phone rang for a long time before he answered.

Background noise filled the line. There was music and laughter from women.

“Oh, that,” Enzo said, like he was just talking about what to have for dinner. “Lucrezia just wanted to see how you’d react. She just wanted to see if you’d notice it yourself. She’s young. She was just playing around. Don't make a mountain out of a molehill. The deadline hasn’t passed yet, has it? Just explain it to the Commission and cancel the thing.”

I gripped the phone so hard my knuckles went white. “What if I hadn’t checked today? She abused her access. According to family rules, I could have her weighed down and dropped into the East River.”

Enzo’s tone went cold. “Amelia, when did you become so unreasonable? Are you going to kill her over a prank she made? Can’t you be a little kind, and a little more forgiving to her?”

He was getting worked up. His voice was rising. “How many times have I told you? She’s a young girl, and she’s barely of age. I am the Don of this family. What’s wrong with me looking out for her? Do you intend to hurt her? You’d have to go through me first.”

Then, without letting me answer, he hung up.

My name was Amelia Ross.

I had known Enzo Vitelli for eleven years. We had been together for six years.

He was my fiance. He was also the Don of the Vitelli