Page 8 of His Collateral Wife
I've lost count of the times my father expressed the same offer to his captives, but it was never out of mercy or compassion. He asks because he wants them to hurt even more. He asks in order to know what and who to destroy.
"You do not have to fear us, mademoiselle. We are no longer at war."
My mind says he's lying.
Because it's what the mafia does best.
They lie and lie and lie, just like a thief in the night that only wants to kill, steal, and destroy.
"You can always ask again on another day, of course."
And yet my heart, oh God.
I'm scared, God. I'm so scared.
Why is it suddenly full of joy and hope?
"But there is no guarantee that the things - and people - that matter to you will still be here whenever it is you decide to trust us."
I want to trust what he's saying, God.
But can I?
May I?
"We are here to serve you. You're about to be the wife of Calixte Romano---"
My head spins. My heart races. And my soul starts to sing.
"W-What did you call him?" I ask jerkily.
"Ah." Even though the balaclava he's wearing hides his face, the smile in the stranger's voice is undeniable. "No one told you, mademoiselle?"
I shake my head.
"Dauphin Tueur is nothing but a fake name that he's taken to using, mostly because it was what the people called him back in the day. Loosely translated, you can say it's French for Prince of Killers. But his real name, which he also goes by in the 'real' world, is Calixte Romano."
Romano.
Romano.
Romano.
I feel like laughing and crying at the same time. Just when I was on the brink of deciding whether to run away or trust this new path, I would've thought He'd choose to answer me very clearly with a 'yes' or 'no'.
(That would not make a good story to share, child.)
But instead, He gives me a puzzle to solve.
And one so subtle that tears finally win over laughter, and my knees completely fold under me.
I see what you're doing, God.
(And it's fun, is it not? To know that you see what I want you to see.)
No, not really.
(And hear what I want you to hear.)