Annabelle Gianni's Story

Date – Tuesday, October 29th, 2013
Time – 5:37pm
Location – Queens, NYC; Pagliarelli Compound
Setting – With his only brother recovering from surgery after a severe blow to the head, Alexander Stark has contacted the head of the Pagliarelli family – Antonio. Both families are meeting now to discuss a possible truce, ending the feud that has put a dent in their businesses and taken away the lives of many of their family members and dearest friends.

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Patrick wasn't in a good mood. He was especially cross with his father for interrupting him before he could finish up with a particularly pretty and rather talented waitress that he had picked up the previous night. Why? All so they could go and have a chat with the Pagliarellis about ending their little feud. Well, it wasn't exactly a little feud, per se. It had been going on since... Well, since he was a child. What had made his father change his mind and decide to try and bring about peace? The fact that his brother was now recovering from a blow to the head by a Louisville Slugger. Patrick did feel bad for his uncle, but he had gotten used to people he cared about being hurt. While it did fuel his rage to go out and cause more trouble, it still wasn't going stop him from picking up random broads and having a hell of a time with him. As far as he was concerned, he was living the life that most people could only dream of. He could write a book and make a movie that would become a timeless classic just off of the first twelve years of his life.

Right now, he was being ushered through a rather large and impressive home decorated with classic Italian art and containing no guards. Hmph. A sign of trust, no doubt. As he walked alongside his younger cousin, Zane, he glanced to his left to catch the sight of a young woman closing a door behind her, wrapped in a towel. “Check out the legs on that one.”, he whispered, his thick Surrey accent slipping past his lips as he jabbed Zane with his elbow. He shook his head with a grin and gave a low whistle before running his fingers through his hair. Like the other men, he was fashionably dressed in a white button-down, grey vest, black slacks, and black dress shoes. Damn, you look fine., he thought to himself as he caught his reflection just before being ushered down some stairs and into a large room where the Pagliarelli family were waiting at a large table, seats for the Starks opposite of theirs.

Zane’s neck was starting to hurt as it did every so often when he was tense or under stress. He wasn’t surprised though, today was a nerve wrecking day it would have been most strange had he not felt the pain. He had just returned from visiting his father at the hospital to learn that his uncle had managed to contact Angel’s father. His sturdy hands almost trembled not knowing what was happening, he wondered if they had somehow found his candid romance with Angel and the thought alone was enough to make him almost sick to the stomach. It wasn’t until he learned that the meeting would take place to discuss a possible truce between them that he could feel the pain in his neck diminish.

He waited with Patrick for further instructions; leaning against a wall with his legs stretched out and crossed arms. He eyed Patrick with a tired look; he hadn’t gotten much sleep even for an insomniac like himself. He doubted he had slept but an hour at the hospital, he refused to let anyone else take care of his dad even his older brothers. Between texting Angel and looking out for his father he had almost passed out in the sofa that was almost too small for a man his size.

Zane had already been to the Pagliarelli’s compound; he thanked his stealthy skills for every time he snuck around to Angel’s room. For the moment he spared no detail as he looked through the very traditionalist décor in the home interiors, it was then when he noticed Angel entering her room with nothing but a towel revealing her beautiful shape, “Check out the legs on that one.” his cousin remarked. Zane almost, as if in a reflex, clenched his fists, ready to punch him. But for the moment, he settled with pushing him, trying to shove some sense up his arse. Patrick only rolled his eyes.

And now, the moment that they've all been waiting for. As the Starks sat across from the Pagliarelli clan, dirty looks were exchanged from both sides. Alexander promptly found his own seat at the head of the table where the elder Antonio had saved a seat exclusively for him. Patrick suppressed the urge to shoot Zane a smirk as he took a seat next to his father, giving a curt nod to Don DeAngelo sitting on the other side of Don Antonio. Zane was also quick to find a seat of his own but not before he gave a respectful acknowledgment to his uncle, then nodded to DeAngelo and Don Antonio respectfully. He was thankful that Murphy had saved him a seat to his right. He had barely managed to sit down when the meeting officially began.

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“Some of you may not know why we're all here.” Don Antonio was the first to speak, his accent thick with Italian as he placed his hands in front of him. “Our...factions – have been warring for the past fifteen years. And it is time to put an end to it once and for all.”

“I – ” Alexander stood and clasped his hands in front of him, facing the Pagliarelli side with a sincere expression, looking DeAngelo directly in his eyes. “On behalf of of the entire Stark Family. And the Brothers. I apologize. We've all suffered the loss of family and loved ones and... I reached out to Don Antonio in an attempt to stop this. The old fashioned way... My son Patrick will marry a woman of the Pagliarelli family at the behest of Don Antonio and once our families merge, the feud will end.” Zane frowned through every word his uncle said. He longed for nothing more than a truce between both families but knew exactly what his words meant, immediate horror flashing through his eyes. Though he was a master at disguising his emotions, he could not hide his wrecked feelings. “Angel”, he muttered in an inaudible whisper. Immediately his eyes sought her in the room and was somehow glad once he noticed she was not there to see him at his worst.

Patrick turned to his father in absolute dismay, obviously displeased that he had been put up to offer like that. Wasn't it usually the males who chose an unwilling bride in an arranged marriage. He didn't know. But he still wasn't happy! But at the same time, everyone looked confused, the Starks wondering which Pagliarelli it would be. Honestly, Patrick didn't mind the idea of pretty Italian girls being lined up against the wall for him to judge like cattle. But then his thoughts turned to Anna and he gave a smirk.

The Pagliarellis weren't exactly thrilled as Don DeAngelo spoke in hushed tones with his sons, sister, and brothers before turning to his father. Anna's eyes met Patrick's but hers reflected nothing but sadness as she shook her head at Patrick's grin, showing disapproval before she looked at Don DeAngelo again. She did not know what was going on despite everything having already been explained.

Patrick flashed Annabelle his signature playnoy smile as he rose his hand some to gather a bit of attention, causing Don DeAngelo to acknowledge him. “I suppose I can't complain too much if I'm marrying a woman with a face as beautiful as hers.” He nodded towards Annabelle, though he was quickly silenced by Don Antonio slamming his fist against the table, startling everyone. “No! Annabelle is not a Pagliarelli. This will be done correctly – No cutting corners. My father would roll over in his grave.”, he growled. Anna's eyes shifted now towards Don Antonio, almost pleading he could somehow change his mind, hoping that someone could stop the craziness that was unfolding before her eyes. She doubted Don DeAngelo was pleased and eyed the stairs, wondering when on earth was Angel going to come.

It was then that Don DeAngelo turned to his father again, a frantic expression crossing his face. “Padre, non abbiamo femmine di Pagliarelli stirpe di sposarsi. Chi ha accettato di questo?”

Don Antonio lifted his chin some as everyone leaned in to hear his answer. Though it came out only in a whisper, his family already knew the answer. Zane was having a hard time keeping his calm, his clenched fists starting to hurt now at his tight grip with knuckles turning bone white.

“Angiluzza. Lupe. Pagliarelli.”

“Angiluzza non avrebbe mai accettato questo!” DeAngelo Sr. raised his voice some, clenching his fists as his eyes filled with desperation. His daughter would have told him if she had agreed to something like this. Right?!!

“Non l'ha fatto.” Don Antonio didn't seem too fazed as he answered, keeping his calm as his family members immediately jumped from their seats. Most of the Starks seemed confused, unable to make out any of the Italian words being thrown around as they all cursed to the high heavens, offered to just cut the head off of the snake right there while Alexander and his family were there, any everything they could think of to save Angel.

Just outside, the young woman in blue walked alongside a man who looked to be in his early-40s, her arm linked around his. The two men standing guard at the door gave her apologetic smiles before opening the door for the pair. Paolo and Angiluzza walked down the stairs into the bunker where all of the important meetings were held, her heels clicking against the oak steps. Reaching the bottom, she resisted shooting Zane a smile before taking a step forward, Paolo gravitating around her every moment and keeping his eyes on the Starks as everyone in her family yelled.


“What's going on here?” She didn't yell, but her family had seen her enter and immediately began to talk at once again, filling her ears with promises of not forcing her to marry Patrick Stark.

“Zitto! Mi sposerò Patrick Stark. Se è quello che finirà questo, così sia. Sappiamo tutti che il codice. Sapevamo che questa era una possibilità. Io non ho paura né arrabbiato né si dovrebbe essere. Dovremmo rallegrarci che la guerra che ha provocato la morte dei nostri cari è finita.”

She rose her voice above her family's, letting her chin rise some as her grandfather looked upon her with approval at her decision, feeling Paolo's hand rest against her shoulder to give her a squeeze as though it would instill confidence. She looked and sounded fierce on the outside, but she was absolutely dying to scream and cry right about now. Anna looked at her best friend with a smile trying to reassure her that she had no fault in the mess but it was obvious she'd take one for her family. How much Anna dreaded she was not of their blood, she couldn't quite avoid but to shed two tears. One for Angel's sake, her sister not in blood but in soul, and one for her own as she knew the man she loved was to wed someone other than her.

Zane had very basic knowledge of Italian, but the few words Angel had taught him were enough to understand but a few words from all the commotion, still he knew exactly of what was going on. Angel was to marry Patrick. The thought alone was enough to make him rise in sheer anger though he did his best not to make the situation worse. “With all due respect Don DeAngelo, this is highly unpractical. I am more than certain we can resolve this situation without having to resolve to such… primordial methods.” He paused for a moment as hebowed down showing Don DeAngelo his respect, “Please…” he begged.

Everyone just...stopped. They all looked at Zane with a questioning expression, though his brother Jeremiah was quick to jump to his defense. “Our mother was a wonderful woman turned sour from an arranged marriage. My brothers and I are simply sympathizing with your daugh – ”

Jeremiah slowly came to a hush and then to a halt in his words as Don Antonio stood.


“I will not have your family disrespect mine any further by going so far as to spit on traditions that we've upheld for two centuries. Our family helped found the Cosa Nostra, shaping it into all that it is today. I wouldn't expect you to understand our ways, nor do I care if you do or don't. My word is final. Alexander and I have made our decision and the bride and groom are consenting. I am very proud of my granddaughter and her ancestors would be to – To see a Donna in the making stepping up to the plate and accepting such a responsibility without a fuss. I am proud that she chooses to uphold our traditions.”

Anna waited for a few seconds after Don Antonio spoke. She smiled to the man that she considered her blood, her grandfather, and knew that if she were to stay a minute longer looking at Patrick and Angel she would be most likely to break in tears. Finally, Anna headed outside the door and as soon as she was out of peering eyes she rushed through the hallways and finally walked towards her car. She rushed through the house she had practically grown up in and finally spotted her car, a car’s collectors dream, her black Impala 67. She inserted the car keys as fast as she could before she drove off at dangerous speed off to nowhere in particular.

Patrick gave Angel a smile to which she simply did not acknowledge except with a cutting glance before leaving the room, discreetly pulling out her phone and texting Zane to come to her bedroom when he got a moment. Paolo was right behind her as the two heads of the families concluded that the meeting was over with Antonio offering for the Starks to remain to get a head start on wedding plans to which Alexander graciously accepted, most of them soon filing out, leaving behind Zane with his brothers. Zane was about to storm off to Angel's room carelessly when his brother Jeremiah immediately stopped him, pulling him back into his seat with much difficulty. "Calm down, Zane!", he said in trying to reassure him, "There's nothing else we can do today.", he whispered as he tried to talk some sense into him. It took Zane but a few seconds to recover from his anger before he nodded as he headed outside the premises.

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Patrick was gone soon after Zane and right before Angel, thinking Zane too sensitive and not really wondering why his cousin seemed so bothered by the marriage. Perhaps he wanted the pretty Italian girl for himself. Angel, well – She had agreed, so why was she so upset? She would make a fine trophy wife for him. But he wasn't about to have Annabelle leave him. Women didn't just leave Patrick Stark. He was the one that left them. The plan was simple, chase her down and woo her. Too easy. Despite his dastardly habits and “I don't give two fucks” attitude, he was able to make women absolutely melt under his boyish smile and swoon at his charming words with his smooth Surrey accent. He had no doubt that all he had to do was pout a little and spew some nonsense about love or something, Annabelle would remain by his side. In truth, he cared little for her. She just provided amazing sex and had a rather exciting air about her with her lack of ability to consider any danger factors.

No, love wasn't for him. He didn't believe in it. As far as Angel went, he could care less whether she ended up loving him or not. But by the time that he was done with her, he would break her spirit and she would be exactly how he liked: Seen but never heard unless he demanded it. Women were just pretty faces. That was all. Candy and toys for men. A smile curved across his lips at the thought, his head shaking at himself. In shame? Hardly. He found himself highly amusing.

But the amused expression was replaced by the perfect image of pain as he found Annabelle at some podunk shack she had refurbished in the middle of some forest for her to escape and later for them to spend time in the throes of passion. His car parked some way back, he grimaced as he dirtied himself with mud and leaves while making his way to the shack, stepping indoors and calling out softly. “Annabelle - I know you're in here, love. Come and talk to me.”

Anna stepped hard on the accelerator, making her impala roar as hard as it could, trying to vent out her anger and frustration. She couldn't help but wonder over and over how things had gotten so twisted and messed up. Sure, Anna loved having a good time, she liked fooling around with guys every now and then and Patrick had happened to be one of them. It wasn’t that way anymore though, she didn’t quite know how she had become involved with the ‘enemy’ but before she knew it he had her under his spell-of-sorts.

Of course, Anna wasn’t naïve and knew exactly why Max stayed around. Theirs wasn’t a fairy-tale-like, let's walk in the sunset while holding hands type of relationship after all; truth was most times she didn’t even know what they were, more of a reason as to why she kept her cool around him. Knowing exactly where she’d be able to truly calm down and shut the whole world down, she headed to her ‘secret’ hideout. She had refurbished it for herself, to be on her own when the weight she carried on her shoulders began to drag her down. She couldn’t quite believe yet that she had even managed to trust Patrick with it. For a moment she wondered if it was about that time that she noticed she had fallen for his tricks.

She was lost in thought, as she headed to the main bedroom and closed the door behind her. She moved closer to the king size bed and climbed up only to curl her legs moving them closer, making herself a tiny ball of sorts. She let out a tear or two when she heard Patrick’s voice calling for her. She let out a sigh in exasperation, “No me jodas. Oh fuck off Max, I’m not in the mood.”

“What crawled up your arse?”, he chuckled, closing the door behind him as he began to venture towards the bedroom where he found her curled into a small ball. Really, he had no idea what was wrong with her, oblivious to her deep affection for him.

Anna rolled her eyes at his remark. She immediately cleaned the remains of her tears and almost feeling as if she her life had been shortened a few years she let out a tired sigh. “Just get the hell out Maxi pad.”, she said raising her voice knowing exactly how much he hated the clever nickname she had come up with.

The delicate features of his face lost composure for a few seconds but he was quick to regain it as he moved and sat on the bed next to her. “Look, I know that Angiluzza is like your sister. But you heard her agree. She seemed fine with it. So why are you upset? Generally, when a woman gets engaged their best friend is there to help them through it. But here you are locking yourself in a room in the middle of nowhere sobbing like a child.” His voice had grown more stern as he placed a hand on her back. “So, I'm assuming that this has something to do with us.”

Annabelle turned around to face him now moving his hand away from her as he placed it on her back, she looked at him with boldness and outmost seriousness “You’re right; Angel is the sister I never had. Which is why I know she doesn’t deserve this. This is wrong, this…. whole mess. It wasn’t supposed to happen.”

As soon as he implied that wasn’t the problem behind her stirred feelings, Anna’s eyes widened and flustered in anger. unable to look at him in the eyes as she lied she spoke again “Well… I’m sorry to disappoint you but the whole world does not revolve around you Max. This… has nothing to do with whatever it is that we have.” Deep inside Anna wished nothing more for her self to believe her own words, though it was true that it pained her to see her friend sacrifice herself for the family’s well being, but it was the thought of losing Max that had her almost losing her head.

Patrick let her do her whining, trying not to look bored before speaking up. “First off. The world doesn't revolve around me, obviously. That is the most idiotic saying. But don't you dare sit there and lie to my face. If you were simply upset because you feel your sister is unhappy then you'd be comforting her. Again – Not here crying like a baby. Secondly, the way you say she deserves better. Better than what? Me? There is none better than me and you should know that. If you mean by arranged marriage, she didn't seem to upset in accepting it without whining.”

He grabbed her face and forced her to look him in the eyes, his glacial orbs boring into her own cerulean eyes. “Don't. Lie. To. Me.” He found it difficult to go with his original plan of playing the sweet and loving boyfriend, Annabelle the one making the difficulties. He was growing increasingly frustrated, trying not to frown. She would not be leaving him.

Anna resented Patrick for seeing through her lies, she wasn’t one to cry easily and here she was letting herself be vulnerable in from of the man that could very much cause her demise. And though at first she loved his overconfidence now it was starting to bother her; somehow it make her weary as if he knew how much she cared for him.

She didn’t resist his touch as he grabbed her face and forced her to look at him, ordering for her not to lie to him. “What do you want me to say? Hmm?” she asked in a tired tone, “-you want me to say that I don’t want you to marry Angel? You’re right, I don’t. You want to say that I want to stay with you? You're right, I do." she finally said managing to turn her gaze down, not willing to look at him in the eyes again.

“Then stay with me.”

His voice was like silk as he finally pried the words from her mouth. A smile crossed his features as he moved closer to her and captured her lips in a kiss. Annabelle had some of the softest lips he had come across and they were always good for more than just kissing him. But he figured that it was a bit too soon to be asking for that just yet. A misogynistic womanizer he was, but that didn't mean that he was an idiot. He knew exactly what women wanted to hear and do.

He slipped a hand around her waist while the other slid from the side of her neck to her head, fingers tangling in her blonde locks. “My beautiful little Italian princess. This doesn't have to ever end. We can go on forever so long as you want it. Just because we aren't public doesn't mean this isn't special.” He put on his charm, letting his fingers rub against her scalp while he moved his lips to brush against her flesh. “Don't think of my marriage as such – Think of it as what it is: A business contract. No intimacy involved. Happens all the time in this life.”

Once again, Annabelle was unable to move at his touch; His words pierced through her as he asked her to stay with him. She slightly kissed him back as he surprised her pressing his lips against hers. Her body still trembled at his touch despite they had already been passionate a couple of times; he grabbed her by the waist and carefully grasped a lock of her hair. Patrick knew exactly how much Anna loved it when he massaged her scalp, most of a reason why she wasn't as surprised as he gently rubbed his fingers against her head.

She cursed at herself as she saw herself falling once again for his charms and as she her defenses down. She kept on kissing him pulling him closer to her and taking the lead now tumbling him down on the bed while she sat on top of him. “This is far from over Max, you better make it up to me.” She ordered him with an outmost serious expression before she leaned down to kiss him again.

“Ciao, papà. Volevi vedermi?”

Angiluzza's timid voice pierced the silence that lingered in her father's office, the young woman peeking around the corner of the door to see her father sitting in his favorite velvet couch with a glass of wine in his hand. She knew that he, of all people, was about as far from happy as the earth was from the sun. She could see bags under his eyes, likely from his lack of sleep the past few days. It had been only two days ago when he had learned that his father had married off his only daughter and most beloved treasure to a man that neither of them had ever met. That young man also happened to be the son of the man who started the war between their families by cutting up their family members and friends and mailing the boxes to their family wrapped like Christmas presents.

DeAngelo had come to the conclusion that his father was simply old, tired, and not willing to shed any more blood of his family. He had only done what was best for his family, knowing that his granddaughter would do anything to end the feud. DeAngelo himself was a rather traditional man, but it was no surprise that he was willing to break tradition to save his daughter's happiness. She deserved to marry a man that she loved and knew would treat her well. She didn't deserve this.

“Sì, l'ho fatto. Vieni qui, principessa.” He gave her a weak smile, motioning her to join him. She had given him a nod and closed the door behind her, tugging on the rope of her green robe. She was wearing a full set of long pajamas underneath it, but she always wore her mother's clothes when she was upset. She had been lounging around in Divinia Pagliarelli's robe since she had returned home after spending a few hours in Zane's arms.

She returned her father's smile with a faint one of her own, taking a seat next to him. The silence returned, leaving a bit of awkwardness between them until he set down his wine and turned to face her. “Angel... Why did you do it? Why didn't you fight for another way?” Her lack of a fight had confused him and as much as he didn't want to, he suspected that perhaps she had met the Stark boy before and taken a shine to him. Though, that couldn't be any further from the truth. At least the part about her liking him.

“Because – ”, she started. “ – you and I both know that nonno is old school and he's not going to change his mind... And I'm tired of everyone dying. I don't want you or Uncle Enzu or Gelo or Zo or anyone else to be next.” She looked down for a moment before looking back up and giving her father a grin. “Besides – We can just pray that we get lucky and he ends up dead within the first few months. Our jobs are hazardous after all.” Her last words made her father smile and wrap his arms around her, giving her a tight hug.

“That's my girl.” They held each other for some time longer, letting themselves enjoy the silence before Angel was interrupted by a text message inviting her to a Halloween costume party. The Sicilian debated for a few moments before discreetly sending her beloved (Zane) a text message to invite him as well, informing him that she would go if he would go. She had been determined to spend as much time with him as possible until her marriage, unwilling to become an adulteress even if she would dream every night of slitting the throat of the man sleeping next to her. She would not dishonor her family, nor her God on such a level.

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“Deal me in.” Patrick walked into the family room where his brothers Jonathan and Harrison were playing poker with his cousins Zane and Murphy. Jeremiah looked up from his book with a raised brow before shaking his head and returning to Of Mice and Men, a book he considered elementary but still a riveting and touching read every time. Murphy gave a nod from behind his cigar before putting it in the ashtray, shuffling the cards and dealing everyone five, letting the others deal their own chips. There was a bit of silence and it did not go unnoticed by Patrick who gave a laugh before lighting up a cigarette and taking a few drags. “Cat got your tongues? What's the matter with you lot?” He had his usual smug smile on his face, his fingers seeming to constantly be running through his hair. The bearded older man didn't mind him adjusting his hair though – It was one of his tells and generally how he robbed his younger cousin blind in every poker game.

“How could you possibly find joy in marrying a woman who'd probably much rather see your head on a pike on her fence as a warning to any other fool who thinks to have her without wooing her first?” Murphy was the first to pipe up as the game started, though as soon as he spoke it seemed like he and Patrick were the only ones able to concentrate on the game. “Raise three large. And she didn't seem to mind at all. Not exactly the most enthusiastic bride, but she did accept willingly. Like Don Antonio said? Who are we to taint their silly honor?” He gave mocking laughter, caring little for his fiancee's family or their traditions, honestly finding it all to be boring and trivial.

Murphy cut Zane a glance before pushing forward chips as Patrick had. “Raise seven. And it's their silly honor that has kept us all alive for so long. Had they none, they would have contacted their allies immediately rather than have prevented them from stepping in to clean us all out. Don't be stupid, kid.” Patrick didn't reply, obviously irritated with Murphy already. He never really did hide his disdain for Zane's brothers. The two of them were older and wiser and they weren't afraid to put Patrick in his place. His own father never spoke to him that way unless he was angry. Murphy was the one he didn't like the most, mostly because Murphy wasn't afraid to get physical. While Murphy wasn't as brawny as his baby brother, he was still more muscular than Patrick.

He simply bit the inside of his cheek before laying down his cards. “Flush.” His gaze turned upwards towards Murphy's, the two of them holding their gazes, smug against stern. A light smirk grace Murphy's face as he laid out his own cards. “Straight flush.”