I woke up to the gentle warmth of the sunrise shining through the rose-pink curtains that decorated my bedroom. It was early in the morning, but I made a decision to just take in a few more moments of rest. "There's no harm with a little beauty sleep..." I murmured into my pillow, even if I had a busy day ahead of me because of my younger sister's wedding. At just twenty-three, I was Liliana Bianchi, a famous supermodel who walked on runaways and appeared in fashion magazines. I've been modeling since I was ten years old, starting with kid's clothes and growing into a career that's lasted thirteen years. But I was currently on a break from the runway scene, still, my schedule continued to be packed with photo shoots, and magazine appearances. I yawned, and snuggled deeper into the bed covers, wanting to steal at least three more hours of sleep before the day's responsibilities set in, which was my younger sister's wedding.
Today marked my younger sister Isabella's wedding, scheduled for 2 o'clock, but I had plenty of time to rest until then because it was only seven in the morning. As I began to drift back into sleep, the silence in my bedroom was quickly interrupted by the sudden swing of the doors. I opened my eyes to the sound of high heels clicking sharply on the marble floor. There was no mistaking the visitor, which was my mother, Carlotta Bianchi. She stopped at the edge of my bed, but I pretended to sleep, hoping to avoid her attention so early in the morning. "Liliana, you can't lie to your own mother. I know you are awake," There was no masking my mother's Italian accent. I continued to pretend to be asleep, adding a snore to make it believable. Though I was afraid my acting skills would not fool her, nothing could fool my mother. She was unfazed by my actions, so my mamma moved to pull open the curtains, allowing the morning sunlight to flood the room, forcing me to rub my eyes due to the light. "Wake up before your father has to drag you out of bed." she demanded.
With a sigh, I sat up, rubbing the fatigue from my eyes and adjusting to the sudden rush of light inside the room. "What is it?" I asked, reaching for a bottle of water from the pink mini fridge beside the bed. My mother had a disapproving look on her face since she expected me to follow a strict schedule, which was very important for my job as a model. "We have an urgent matter concerning your sister, Isabella," she finally announced. Naturally, everything concerned Isabella as the world evolved around her. Today was her wedding day, an occasion she had planned with her first love, Nino Russo, who was the younger brother of Marcello Russo. "What happened now? Did she faint at the sight of a spider on her wedding dress? Or did another woman look at Nino in a weird way for one second, and now she has a heart attack?" I replied dryly, my voice dripped with sarcasm. 1 6 Isabella had a special talent for melodrama. She often made minor problems seem bigger than they were. However, my mother's concern for Isabella seemed genuine."Isabella is feeling sick. She cannot proceed with the wedding," she announced, her expression was now more troubled. "Is it DBD?" I asked, taking a sip of my water. "What on earth is DBD?" My mother narrowed her eyes, unfamiliar with the term. "Dramatic Bitch Disorder," I replied, returning the water bottle to the mini fridge. "Liliana! Do not speak of your sister in such terms. She is suffering, and she's younger than you!" My mother almost yelled, her voice carrying a threat. She's only ten minutes younger than me. "Or else your father will hear of this. You know what he will do to you," she added, using my fear of father's stern discipline, which involved abuse. I closed my eyes, her threat quickly silencing me because I would rather die than get slapped by my father. I suffered from a deep-rooted fear of my father, whose discipline was harsh and cruel. However, he always treated Isabella with kindness and love. "Just tell me why you're here. You know how I already feel about Isabella, and her suffering is not my problem," I stated bluntly, my frustration visible. "As I said, Isabella is not feeling very well, which prevents her from proceeding with the wedding. She will not marry Nino Russo." My mother explained, her words carried a horrifying announcement. The wedding was not merely a celebration of love between Isabella and her fiancé but also a very important peace treaty between the Bianchi family and the Russo family. Both families were well-respected Italian mafia families, as they had a long-running rivalry which was still a sensitive topic to this day. If the marriage did not go through, Its failure would likely trigger a potential war. The last war between the families occurred almost fifty years ago, where the families tried to massacre each other, raping the women, killing the children and cutting off the heads of the men in the family. The war had left scars that still haunted our family, and my thoughts turned to my younger siblings, which could be put in grave danger if a war took place again. My sibling's safety weighed heavily on my mind, and I hated the idea of violence and the horrors it could unleash if the marriage between Nino and Isabella did not go through.
But worst of all? Isabella knew the reason behind the marriage, and yet, she chose to leave, putting everyone in danger. Father could die for all I cared, I would bless the person who killed him and give them a million bucks, but my younger siblings did not deserve a cruel fate. I had two younger siblings beside Isabella, they were twins, a brother and a sister who were only sixteen years old. "Isabella must go through with the wedding. Not being able to do so will cost a lot of lives. Alessia and Mateo will be put in danger." I argued bitterly. "I still hear Nonna's screams in my nightmares. Everybody knows about the horrible thing that happened to her during the war," I added, as the memories of my late grandmother's suffering passed through my mind. My grandmother had passed away many years ago, yet her agonizing cries haunted me, a reminder of the aftermath of the war. "I understand, but Isabella is in pain, she's not feeling well." My mother said, her concern for Isabella created a tinge of jealousy within me. If I was in Isabella's shoes, I would have been killed, no questions asked.
"I don't care about how much she's suffering. Life is filled with challenges, and Isabella could have expressed her doubts weeks, months or even a year ago. But she did it today, when she knows that there's no backing out." I said firmly. I got up from the bed, heading toward the bathroom because I can't stand to look at my mother. Though, I made the sudden decision to pay Isabella a little visit, to confront her about the consequences of her actions. However, my mother's final words stopped me in my steps. "Isabella doesn't want to marry. You will have to take her place, but you will have to marry Marcello Russo, instead of Nino Russo." She told me, her words smacking me like a hard punch in the face. For a brief moment, I thought my heart had stopped beating because Marcello Russo was my first love. The kind of love who never laid his eyes on me, instead he always looked at my younger sister. Isabella was the same age as me, she's twenty-three, but we were born from different mothers.
"I'm not going to get married." I pushed aside my mother's words and proceeded into the bathroom to tidy myself up. I was about to have a very long chat with my younger sister about taking responsibility.