Ms. Blade

                                    

                                          
•Arabella Bianchi•
                          
•8th May 2018•
                          
The vanity a few meters away from my bed used to be my grandmother's. I wish she was here to tell me what to do. I'm only 18 and my life has been planned out for me since my parents found out of my existence. I was raised to obey men...which only increased my disobedience towards them. My father was never able to have a son, like Henry the 8th. They all died.
                          
    I have one sister, she's 12 and sometimes clingy but family is family. Especially in the world I was born into.
                          
    The Mafia.
                          
    My sister Viola and my female cousins are here to help me. Do what? Oh yes, look presentable for my future husband. He has been my future husband since I was born, our parents immigrated from Italy together and became the two ruling mafia families of the world but for some reason, our family has been having troubles for years now and I have to marry this man to save my family.
                          
     "The Bianchi–DiStefano alliance will be like no other," my father once said. It's not like I have a choice, just a duty.
                          
    Beatrice's voice pulled me out from my thoughts "I think you should wear the mesh bodysuit with the skirt on top," she had a hanger in each hand.
                          
    "Yeah, that'll be okay," I grabbed them from her hands and locked myself in the bathroom. I just needed time alone. Once I was out of the bathroom with my clothes and heels on they decided to coat my lips with red matte lipstick and  adorn my eyelashes with mascara. My hair was neatly styled into a low ponytail with a golden kinda bracelet thing to cover the band and a velvet choker surrounded my neck with an A hanging from it.
                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
                          
    "Arabella?" Viola stood beside me.
                          
    "Yes, sorella?" That means sister, I was forced to learn Italian since I was born. Three years of my life I only spoke Italian
                          
    "I want you to have mom's bracelet for luck," it's a thin gold band with her (my mom's) name engraved on the inner rim. This is a big deal for my sister, she never takes it off.
                          
    "Thank you, Viola," I stood up and kissed her forehead. "Cross my heart and hope to die that we'll spend every afternoon together and I will still help you with your homework," she didn't sleep last night thinking about being alone with dad. He drowns himself in alcohol every night.
                          
    Viola has hazel eyes and long black raven hair (she likes to wear wigs) whereas I have emerald green eyes and long dark brown hair, not to my ass like Viola but to my mid back.
                          
    I wish I could've inherited the business, that way my sister wouldn't have to be away, but the woman never sits at the head of the table, they stand behind the man at the head holding his hand.
                          
Bullshit runs in mafia families, especially the ones with a man as capo.
                          
    Children, that's what mafia men should be called. Or babies if we are going to get realistic.