The Alliance Novel – Pretending that my husband’s girlfriend was not next to him offering him her big bosom up for dinner,I was in the middle of dinner with my new husband and his family,. She wanted me to know she had slept with this man on multiple occasions, in every position and was proud of it. I decided, as tempting as it was, to punch her in the nose. My fight was not with her but with my husband, who knew better and obviously wanted to provoke me. I was brought back to attention by Aunt Lita, who said with a devilish grin, “So Isabella, tell us about yourself? What is it that you do outside of being my nephew’s hooker.” I smiled. Finally, it was my turn to fight back.
As Isabella looked outside her New York City sky-rise apartment, seeing the sun begin to rise over the city, she thought to herself how nice it would be to just get in her 2023 Maserati Levante and ride straight out of the city. This very thought had begun to consume her every waking moment the closer it had gotten to the wedding. A wedding she did not want but had no choice but to go through for the sake of this latest rendition of the Rossi and Bernardi peace alliance. She doubted that this would ever bring true peace to the two warring families. There was so much bad blood between the two that she doubted her head and pushing out Rossi-Bernardi heirs or hellions would wash away the blood that had already been spilled on both sides. She could feel every hour, minute, second pass by and the ticking sound of her Grandfather’s Clock in the hall of her apartment did not help much.
It began to match her heartbeat. TICK-tock…. TICK- Tock…. TICK-tock, then a BOOM. Her breathing began to become haggard, and she found herself gasping for air. Was she having a panic attack? What! She hasn’t had a panic attack since she was little, after her mom went missing and never came back. She wondered if this was what was adding to her dread. Not only was she being forced to marry a man she did not love, slept with a man she did not even know except for his reputation of being a player, short fused and plainly, and these were his good qualities; she did not have her mother with her. She imagined her mom would have cherished being “the mother of the bride”. She would have loved helping her pick out the wedding dress, arranging the flowers, looking for the perfect venue. But this was not the case. She was alone being bullied by her father, Don Alphonso Leonardo de Rossi, who did not love her and could care even less about sending his only daughter to marry the son of the man who he called the devil, the late Don Enzo Alexandre Bernardi. Don Enzo had been dead for nearly 20 years because of circumstances Isabella did not fully know, but his reputation and cruelty outlived him and to her trepidation, his venom coursed through the veins of his only living son, Victor Antonio Bernardi.
To the unknown casual observer, Victor was handsome, rich, intelligent, and ambitious. At age 34, he had amassed his own wealth separate from his family’s billions that were mired by street violence and notorious illegitimate businesses. He appeared to be every Mafia family’s wet dream, a more palatable, charismatic, clean-cut leader with a bright smile, clear blue eyes, the Golden Midas Touch, but do not fool yourself, he is a mafioso through and through. Isabella walked toward her coffee table and picked up the open Business Insiders Magazine adorning her husband to be in the “Movers and Shakers” of the business world. His facial profile was very appealing. His chiseled face, his 5 o’clock shadow, his slightly curled jet-black hair only accentuated his very blue eyes compounded with that puffy bottom lip curled up in a knowing smirk that says heart break and devastation. Any woman would love to be with him, beneath him, owned and used by him except her.
She knew better, beneath this polished facade was a man who did not hesitate to pull the trigger on business deals and most literally against his enemies, and she was his enemy for many more reasons she had yet to know. Isabella had been “engaged” with this man for nearly a year and had yet to meet him or spoken to him directly. She knew of him but, given the nature of their family wars, they did not travel in the same circles. Last year around this time, she was graduating from Stanford University with her bachelor’s degree in business administration. She had hoped to see her father in the crowd but was not surprised he was not there. Instead, Dino, her burley 6’5” bodyguard with a heart of gold, gave her a big hug as she came off the stage after receiving her diploma. Dino was her bodyguard when she was just eight years old and was like a big brother and father put together. He even brought Isabella her first sanitary pads at fourteen years old and had her promise to never tell anyone in her life if she did not want to be found in the Hudson River. He appeared gruff and tough on the exterior and most likely he was when he had to be, but to Isabella, he was always Mr. Marshmallow. That, too, was their little secret.
I didn’t realize I had been looking out the window for the last hour until my phone rang and shook me out of my reverie. It was an unknown number. I was not one to answer unknown numbers but, in our world, it could be a contact of the most importance, so I picked up but didn’t say a word. I then heard a deep voice. “Is this the Rossi PRINCESS?” The man on the phone made sure to drawl out the word Princess. I responded abruptly, “It’s Isabella Rossi, you have 5- seconds to spit it out.” “Ouch, is that a way to talk to your husband?” he asked amusingly. I was stunned, not sure if this could really be Victor. We have been engaged for all this time and I have not heard his voice once or from him directly except for some emails that I suspect were written by his secretary and him sending my dad pictures of that night in the club with Joe or Dave, whatever. I quickly responded with, “I don’t have a husband.” The voice chuckled, “This time tomorrow, you will. This is Victor. Can I meet you somewhere today?” I responded noncommittally, “My day is already packed. I don’t think I —.” He cut me off.
“Meet me at Emilio’s in the VIP lounge at 1 PM. Ask for me when you get there,” he said abruptly, then hung up the phone without waiting for my response. As I thought about Victor’s conversation with me, if you can call it a conversation instead of a summons, it started to really get on my nerves. He did not bother to talk to me for nearly a year. He didn’t care to help arrange the “Wedding of the Century” as described by the tabloids, and now hung up the phone without so much as a goodbye. He has a lot to learn about Anna Isabella Rossi. I do not get summoned anywhere! I do not get dismissed and I most definitely do not get hung up on. He may run New York City and even his very powerful, evil Bernardi Mafia, BUT he doesn’t run me. I decided to go to my office in Manhattan to start my Fall clothing campaign. I bought my fashion design company right out of college with the money my mom left me in my trust. I was adamant to keep my own life and accomplishments away from the mafia lifestyle. This was the main reason that I had not knowingly taken one cent from my father.
My mother, Claudia Armani Barche Rossi, came from the Armani Barche family whose money came from making ships and not street crime. I knew that there was a very small distinction, especially since I was enjoying a lifestyle that could only have been built by what it is to hold the “Rossi” name. I was meeting with new up-and-coming designers in a week. I had thought about canceling, as I would be on my honeymoon, what’s happening tomorrow is a business transaction and the sooner I get that in my head the better I will be. So, I pressed my direct-page intercom to my secretary, Carmen, and told her to keep all my meetings next week as scheduled. She then asked about the 1 pm appointment I pinned for today with Mr. Bernardi at Emilio’s in the VIP lounge, which was coming up in 2 hours. I took a while to respond but then confidently said, “Call his secretary and cancel it. Tell him I was summoned to another meeting that was much more important.” Carmen hesitated, “Bella, do you really want me to use those words?” Carmen and I have been friends since high school, and she came with me to start this company with no more than a pipe dream of its success, so she could read through this and, for the most part, kept me out of trouble. “You realize the wedding is tomorrow?” she continued.
I retorted, “Yes, I do and, for once, in this whole affair, I am asserting some control. Go away Mr. Bernardi!” Carmen amusingly responds, “OK, it’s your funeral and with your dad and the Bernardi’s, there is a very real possibility that it is your funeral.” Before I let go of the direct-page intercom, I said triumphantly, “YES! And what a glorious way to go!” — It has been a few hours since I canceled my meeting with Victor. I was in my office, busily working, before I was suddenly startled by Carmen’s voice over my intercom system. “Ms. Rossi, you have visitors out here that would like to see you,” she said with what sounded like hesitation. I could tell something was off as Carmen hardly ever referred to me so formally, but before I could respond to her, my double doors abruptly opened, and a very handsome but very pissed Victor Bernardi entered. He looked at me up and down, and I felt my core tighten in response. He was wearing a black silk shirt tucked in gray slacks with brown Belvedere Santo shoes. He stood at 6’4” with a muscular lean build. His blue eyes were mesmerizing with a hint of “I will screw you hard, and you will like it.” As his gaze slowly made its way from my feet up to my face, I noticed he too liked what he saw, but within seconds, it was replaced with pure anger. “It’s 2:30, princess!” he shouted.
Before I could say a word, he continued, “I got a message earlier from my assistant that you were canceling our meeting, but I knew it must have been an error because you could not be that stupid. Not even a “ROSSI” could be that stupid. But I guess I underestimated the level of stupidity that runs in that family!” After the second bout of “stupid”, I soon regained my composure from his gorgeous, good looks and decided to treat this jerk with the same kind of venom he was spewing my way. I calmly walked back behind my desk and sat down. “You seem to be losing your cool, Mr. Bernardi. The whole world appears to be run by you, but you will do well to remember, appearances can be misleading. I may choose to carry the Bernardi name after tomorrow as I could choose to wear mud or hooker under my shoes as I walk the streets of New York, but don’t make the mistake of thinking, that’s all I am,” I gritted out. Victor looked like he had never heard the word “No” or had a person, never mind a woman, dared tell him off before in all his whole life and I suspect he may not have. He started walking toward my desk in disbelief and I saw Dino step forward in front of him. I was so engrossed with Victor; I had not noticed when Dino entered the office. Two other goons, I suspected, who worked for Victor, had made their way into the office. All men had their hands on their holsters. I looked at Victor, employing him to back his men off by raising an eyebrow, but all I saw from him was a small smirk as if I was afraid, and he liked it. I pulled back from my desk and seductively raised my legs up over the far corner of my desk, crossing them at my ankles.
All the men outside of Dino paid close attention to my exposed creamy thighs, hoping for a glimpse of my lady parts as I was wearing a pencil knee-high skirt with a slit. I laughed to myself and thought “men and their manhoods”. Not one of them had realized I pulled my 9-mm out from my top drawer. To gain his attention, I shouted, “Victor, I believe we are evenly matched now.” I flashed my gun from where I sat, pointing it at his head, then moved it ever so slowly down to his crotch. “What say you?” I asked. Within seconds, his men pulled out their guns to point them at me and Dino aimed his gun right at one of the goon’s head. No one moved a muscle and the tension in the air was so thick you could cut a knife through it. Victor’s gaze did not leave mine for a second as a smile began to form on his very full kissable lips, never making it to his eyes. “Calm down boys, I’m not sure if she can even use that thing. I wouldn’t want her to be all bloodied up before our wedding night,” he joshed. “I wouldn’t wager a bet on that, Mr. Bernardi,’’ Dino deadpanned. Victor quickly corrected, without looking at Dino, “It’s Don Bernardi.” Dino nodded in confirmation. After a short while, Victor signaled to his men with a slight head nod and both his men put down their guns. I told Dino to do the same. I put mine down on my desk and got up from my seat, making sure to make a show of sliding my skirt down to its original length by first patting the sides of my breasts, hugging my hips, then bending slightly to the hem of my skirt, all while never leaving Victor’s gaze.
I laughed to myself as I could clearly see Victor was not happy. By the looks that his men were giving me, I could understand why. I slowly walked up close to Victor and asked, “What are you doing here, Mr. Bernardi? I am very busy today.” He took a second before he responded as if searching my eyes for something, then with a smile he said, “We are getting married tomorrow, and we have some last-minute contracts and negotiations to get through. I thought eating food in a nice restaurant would make it more palatable, but I can see you like it rough and dirty, and I do not need to fuss to get what I want.” Before I could respond with one of my smart-mouth come-backs, he turned on his heels, shouting over his shoulder, “So do you have a conference room? My lawyer and uncle will be joining us shortly and so will your father.” My face instantly dropped. Within 30 minutes, my conference room transformed into a high-stakes negotiation never seen before between two rival families. At least not these families. One wrong move or word could turn into an all-out shoot out.
I noticed Victor sitting at the head of the table and I knew that it was strategic. His uncle, Vito, who surprised me with an affectionate hug when we were introduced, sat next to him. A short, stubby, nervous man, who went by Mr. Clayton, sat on Victor’s left. I assume he was the lawyer. Next to that man was a tall blond, named Angie, who was either another lawyer or Victor’s secretary. The two goons remained standing at the back, on either side of where Victor sat. I noticed Dino did the same, standing slightly next to me towards the back. Angie, who had been intently staring me down since she entered the room, got up when everyone was sitting, to make a show of passing a folder to Victor. Her cleavage was falling out as she leaned toward him. Before Angie sat back down, she made sure to brush her hand over Victor’s forearm. I noticed that Victor’s eyes remained on me during that whole exchange. I saw a flicker of a smile on his face, and I knew he knew what I was thinking.