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The Veto：My Mafia Family Faked My Mother's Death
Novelix
Completed
I've been engaged to Rafael Costa for five years. My family has vetoed my wedding five times. One word from any blood relative, and it gets pushed a whole year.Year six, nobody's left to stop me. Then, three days before the wedding, my mother dies.I hear my brothers through the study door that night. The death is a lie. My fiancé married my best friend in secret, and she just had his son. My whole family covered for them.So I cancel the wedding myself, and I fly to London.Six years, they kept pressing pause on my life. This time, I'm the one holding the pen.
Chapters (3)
Chapter 1
The Marchettis have a rule.
Every blood relative gets one veto. One word out of any of them, and whatever's coming next gets pushed a full year.
I've been engaged to Rafael Costa for five years.
My wedding's been vetoed five times.
Dad said I was too young.
Mom said marriage was serious business.
Then both of my brothers took their turn.
Year six, there's nobody left who can stop me.
Three days before the wedding, my mother drops dead.
The whole family says the same thing. You can't throw a wedding ten days after you bury your mother. Not in this family. Not in the North End. People talk.
So the wedding gets pushed. Again.
I sit up with her all night at the house.
The next morning I'm walking past my father's study when I hear Dante through the door.
"We're out of vetoes for the year. A funeral buys us one more."
Luca, lower. "She stays gone 'til Sienna's got her name on the paper."
I stop in the hallway.
Then Rafe speaks.
"Vivi doesn't hear a word of it. Not from you. Not from Luca. Not from my mother."
"The papers are signed. The kid gets my name. That's how it works."
"She waits. She's always waited."
So the mother I just spent all night mourning isn't dead.
She's halfway across the country. Holding the baby my best friend just had with my fiancé.
I don't move for a long time.
Then I slide the ring off my finger.
Six years of wearing it. There's a pale band of skin underneath, like something's been buried there.
Fine.
If everybody in this house is this scared of me marrying Rafael Costa, they don't have to waste another veto on it.
I'll call the wedding off myself.
...
I don't push the door open. They're still talking.
Dante lets out a breath.
"She was up all night, this one. You think she holds?"
"She's cried through five weddings." Dad. "She'll cry through this one too."
Then Rafe. Quiet. Tired. The voice of a man who's done this before.
"Vivi doesn't hear a word of it. Not from you. Not from Luca. Not from my mother."
"The papers are signed. The kid gets my name. That's how it works."
"She waits. She's always waited."
Dad's voice is heavy.
"Sienna's father took a bullet for me. If his grandkid doesn't end up on this family's paper, every capo in the North End starts asking what else we cut corners on."
Then Dante. "Her father's people still run the docks. You want them loyal? The kid goes in the will."
Nobody says anything about Vivi.
That's the part that stays with me.
My fingertips go cold, one knuckle at a time.
Sienna Moreau moved in with us when she was sixteen.
Her dad was one of ours.
Took a bullet meant for mine. Right there on Hanover Street.
Two years later her mom was gone too. Breast cancer.
After that, Dad said it at every holiday. The Marchettis owe that girl a life.
Mom treated her like a second daughter.
Anything my brothers brought home, Sienna got first.
Her birthday, the whole house started planning a month out.
She got the flu, Dante would blow off a sit-down to sit with her all night.
She said thunderstorms scared her, Luca drove two hours in the middle of the night just so she wouldn't be alone when it started.
I never thought twice about any of it.
I was the one who took Rafe's hand and said it out loud. Sienna doesn't have anyone. We should look out for her too.
I just didn't think "looking out for her" meant handing her my fiancé.
My wedding.
My mother.
I didn't think, in their heads, my mom dying and my wedding falling apart were just a few more days of me crying it out.
I walk back into the parlor.
Mom's photograph sits between the candles.
Pearls. The smile she only used for Christmas cards.
The day she "died," Dad said the body was too far gone. I couldn't see her. I begged. I cried until my voice went out. Dante stood in the doorway and wouldn't move.
"Your mother was vain, Vivi. You know that. She wouldn't want you remembering her like that."
So I stayed up all night in front of a closed casket and cried until my chest hurt.
Now I know.
She was never inside it.
She's halfway across the country rocking Rafael Costa's son to sleep.
"Vivi."
I didn't hear him come in.
He drapes his jacket over my shoulders and crouches down next to my chair, reaching for my hands. They're ice. He wraps them in his, like he's always done.
"Don't do this to yourself. Mom wouldn't want it."
He says it like it costs him nothing.
I almost laugh out loud.
Six years ago, when he proposed, he was down on one knee just like this.
"Every time they say no, I wait another year. Vivi, there's no one else. There was never going to be anyone else."
Year one, Dad said no, and I waited.
Year two, Mom.
Year three, Dante.
Year four, Luca.
Year five, somebody came up with a new reason.
Every time I cried till I couldn't breathe, Rafe would pull me against his chest and say the same line.
"Just a little longer, Vivi."
"It's gonna be you. It was always gonna be you."
He'd wipe my face with his thumb.
"Next year. Next year I'll make it up to you. Something bigger. Something better."
I'd push a smile out somehow. Okay. I'll wait.
And every time, I'd feel his shoulders drop.
My phone goes off in my lap.
The wedding planner.
"Miss Marchetti. Mr. Costa just called. He said we're pushing the date again."
"The flowers and the cake are nonrefundable, so he'd like us to ship the whole order overseas instead. That okay with you?"
She reads out an address.
I close my hand around the phone.
It's the town where Sienna had the baby.
Ten thousand white roses. Rafe and I spent three months picking them. He wanted me walking through a garden of them on our wedding day. Toward him.
There's no wedding.
But the flowers, apparently, still have somewhere to be.
I keep my voice flat. "Cancel it."
A pause on the other end. "I'm sorry?"
"The flowers. The cake. All of it. Whatever you can pull back, pull it back."
I hang up and call my attorney before I lose the nerve.
"I need the paperwork to break the engagement. And I want the townhouse on Beacon Hill listed. Today, if you can."
Silence on the line. "Miss Marchetti. Should I run this past Mr. Costa first..."
"No."
Across the room, Rafe is lighting a fresh candle in front of my mother's picture, head bowed, playing the grieving son-in-law for anyone who happens to be watching.
I almost smile at the back of his neck.
"It's my house. It's my engagement. I don't need anyone's permission."
Chapter 2
I hang up on my attorney and drive back to the brownstone.
The study door's open. There's already paperwork laid out on the desk.
Dante. Luca. Rafe.
Our family attorney slides the folder across to me.
"Your mother made arrangements. Before she passed."
I look down.
Mom's piece of the businesses.
The buildings she put her name on.
Nonna's jewelry.
All of it, straight into a fund none of us have ever heard of.
One beneficiary. One name.
Nico Costa.
My hand freezes on the page.
"Who the hell is Nico Costa?"
I look up.
"Sienna's baby?"
Luca's jaw tightens. "Yeah."
I turn to Rafe.
"Why does he have your last name?"
Rafe clears his throat.
"Some piece of shit left her. The kid needs a father on the birth certificate."
I keep flipping.
Last page. A waiver.
I'm supposed to sign off that I won't contest.
I let out a laugh before I can stop it.
"When did Mom draw this up?"
Dad's face shifts, just a little.
"Last year."
"What month."
"Vivienne."
He drops his voice flat.
"Your mother's in the ground. You really gotta sit here and pick at this?"
I close the folder.
"Because she talked about these things while she was alive. Every one of them. Said they were mine. For my wedding day."
"She drops dead and suddenly they belong to Sienna's kid."
"How does that work."
Luca's on his feet before I finish.
"It works because Sienna needs it, Vivi!"
"You're a Marchetti. You're marrying into the Costas. What exactly do you lack?"
"She's got no mother, no father, and now a baby. Who the hell does she have?"
I push the folder away. There's a bitter smile working its way out of me.
"I'm not signing."
Dad's palm comes down on the desk.
"That is your mother's last wish!"
"You can't even give a dead woman that?"
A dead woman.
The wedding's postponed because my mother's dead.
Now they're walking my inheritance out the door with the same excuse.
I stand up.
"Then tell Mom to come down and ask me herself."
Four faces change at once.
I turn to leave.
Dante steps straight into the doorway.
"Vivi. Don't make us do this."
"Move."
He doesn't.
Luca reaches over and slides my phone out of my hand.
"You come out when you're thinking clearly."
I stare at them.
"You're locking me in?"
Luca, cold. "We're letting you breathe."
I reach for the phone.
He flips it across the room to Rafe.
"Watch her."
I look at the man who told me he would spend his life protecting me.
"Give it back."
Rafe's fingers close around my wrist. His jaw is set.
"Vivi."
"Just sign it."
Something inside my chest goes quiet.
"So you think I should give it up too."
He won't meet my eyes. His throat works around nothing.
"Baby, this stuff is extra for you. You know that. You've got everything."
"For Sienna and the kid, it's a safety net."
I look at him for a long time.
Then I smile.
"Okay."
I feel every one of them exhale.
Dad slides the pen back toward me.
Dante actually reaches over and pats the top of my head.
"That's our Vivi."
"You were always the good one."
I lower my head.
I sign my name, one letter at a time.
Chapter 3
The next few days, Rafe doesn't leave the house. He sits with me at the wake, hand on my back, playing the part of the dutiful fiancé for anyone who happens to walk in.
Nine days after we bury my mother, I pass out at Mass.
When I come to, there's a doctor at the foot of the bed holding out a lab slip.
"You're about seven weeks along."
I stare at it for a long time.
Rafe gets the call and shows up at the hospital so fast his coat isn't even buttoned. He takes one look at the ultrasound and his eyes go glassy. He pulls me into his chest and won't let go.
"We're having a baby. I'm gonna be a dad."
A year ago, I would've cried for the right reasons.
Right now, I just feel sick.
I want to ask him. Aren't you already somebody's dad? What exactly is new here?
The nurse comes back with a clipboard.
"Okay, Mom. Just a few things for the file."
She runs down the list. Insurance. Allergies. Last period.
Then. "Emergency contact?"
Rafe answers before I can. "Me."
She smiles. "Relation?"
He hesitates. Just half a second.
"Fiancé."
She writes it down. "Perfect. I'll have you listed as next of kin on her chart too. Put a number down we can reach you at, day or night."
I watch him write his cell. The same number Sienna has. The same number that went to voicemail for her last week when the baby had a fever.
The nurse looks up at me, cheerful.
"How exciting. First baby. When's the wedding?"
Rafe's pen stops.
Half a beat. The nurse doesn't even notice.
I feel it in my teeth.
He recovers. Gives her that easy Costa smile.
"We're still figuring out the date. There's been a death in the family."
"Oh, sweetheart. I'm so sorry." She pats my knee. "You take all the time you need."
She leaves.
I look at him.
"So. When's the wedding."
The smile falls off his face.
"Vivi. Your mom just went in the ground."
"It wouldn't look right."
I give him a small smile and don't say anything else.
...
By the next morning, half the North End knows.
The photo of Rafe at the clinic goes out first. Somebody drops it to Page Six.
Nobody stops it.
That's the part people in our world notice. Nothing about this family reaches a gossip column unless we want it to. Somebody let this one run.
By lunch it's clipped and reposted on the blog every Italian wife on the East Coast reads with her coffee.
Costa heir seen at prenatal visit with longtime fiancée. Insiders say the family's quietly furious.
And then. Later that afternoon. The second drop.
A photograph of a marriage certificate.
Nantucket. One year ago.
The groom's name is clear as glass. Rafael Costa.
The bride's name is blurred, but every woman in our circle already knows who she is.
The whisper starts in Costa family drawing rooms by Thursday afternoon.
By Friday it's running down Hanover Street.
She's been his piece on the side for six years. The whole engagement was for show. He's been married to that Moreau girl since before Christmas.
I'm not the fiancée anymore. I'm the mistress.
By the time I walk into Mia's on Prince Street for a coffee I need, two women I've known my entire life look up from their table and look back down without saying hello.
The barista, who's been pouring my espresso since I was fifteen, slides it across the counter without meeting my eyes.
I walk back out. The old men on the stoop across the street stop their card game to watch me go.
In this neighborhood, that's worse than being screamed at.
I get in the car. I call my father.
"Dad. Put out a statement. Rafe and I have been engaged for six years. On record. Everybody in this family knows that."
He's quiet a long time.
"Vivi. Honey. Not right now."
I know. I know they're covering for Sienna. I know Mom isn't dead. I know all of it.
My voice shakes anyway.
"So you're going to let the whole neighborhood call me his mistress? Dad. Mrs. Capella wouldn't even nod at me on Prince Street."
Dante gets on the line.
"Give it a week. These things fade. You're pregnant. Don't make yourself sick over gossip."
Luca, from somewhere behind him.
"And don't go at Rafe. He's got reasons."
...
I print out the Nantucket certificate and drive straight back to the brownstone.
I push the door open.
Dad's face goes white. He kills the call in his hand.
"Vivi. Honey. What are you doing home?"
I keep my eyes on his.
"I could've sworn I just heard Mom's voice."
The room goes dead silent.
Dad hesitates exactly two seconds. Then his eyes go red.
"You're hearing things, sweetheart. I was watching old videos of her."
Dante and Luca come in from the back.
One takes the phone out of my hand.
The other puts an arm around my shoulders.
"You're worn out, Vivi."
"The doctor said it. Pregnant women spiral. It's hormones."
Three of them. Not a single beat out of place.
The image flashes behind my eyes. My mother. Alive. On a screen somewhere.
Something closes up in my throat.
I don't have the energy to tear it open.
Dad is still talking.
"That certificate. Honey, Sienna was in a bad place. Rafe had a few drinks with her up on Nantucket. They both had too many. It got out of hand. One night."
Dante steps in, patient, like he's explaining it to a kid.
"Then she got pregnant. Doing the paperwork up there was simpler. He put his name on it for the baby. That's all it ever was."
Luca just frowns at me.
"It's a piece of paper, Vivi. Six years with Rafe doesn't come down to a piece of paper."
A laugh comes up out of me before I can stop it.
They slept together. They had a baby. They legally married each other in another state. All of it an accident.
Only my six years of waiting counts as the real thing.
I look at Rafe.
"That how you see it too?"
He walks over. He looks exhausted.
"Vivi."
"I was going to end it with her the second she was back on her feet."
"But she just had the baby. Her doctor says she can't handle any stress right now."
I look at him. My voice goes quiet.
"So I can handle the stress. I can be the one every woman on this street looks through."
His face tightens. "That's not what I'm saying."
The smile I give him is not a nice one.
"Then when, exactly, are you planning on telling the truth? Because last I checked, every Costa woman in the North End thinks I'm his whore."
The room goes still.
A few seconds pass before Dante clears his throat.
"We go public with the timeline, Sienna gets dragged into it. She just gave birth. She's got no family to catch her."
Dad's eyes are wet too.
"Vivi. Honey. Sienna's got no parents. This baby is her whole world."
"You've got all of us. You've always had all of us."
Dante again. "Just this once. Let her have this one. Just this once. Please."
My wedding. My fiancé. My son's name on another woman's baby. My house.
I let all of it go.
Now it's my name. My standing in this neighborhood.
Rafe pulls me into his chest.
"A couple more weeks, baby. The second this cools off, I'll make it up to you."
I breathe him in. Cedar. His cologne hasn't changed in six years.
Something in me just stops.
Six years. They have never once given me a different answer.
I guess it doesn't matter anymore.
