Monster in Disguise

4. Catalina

Catalina

" C laudia!" I call out, cupping my hands together to amplify my voice. The nuns may disapprove of such noise, but I don't care.

As usual, I have no clue where that mischievous little rascal has scurried off to. I just hope she doesn't cross paths with Mother Superior; that always seems to result in both Claudia and me being scolded for our behavior.

Of course, most of the blame falls on me because apparently, I didn't raise her well. I roll my eyes in disbelief at their judgmental attitude.

It's not like I haven't been through this before; I knew what I was getting into when I decided to have a child. But I made sacrifices for Claudia's well-being. That doesn't give these holier-than-thou nuns the right to criticize my parenting.

Over the years, there have been countless instances where other nuns would make snide comments about Claudia and me within earshot of her.

There had been that time when she'd asked me what whore meant because that's what other nuns refer to me as. How can you explain that to a child? I'd made something up, of course, but Claudia is unusually perceptive. She'd realized by herself that it was a negative word.

I go towards the cloisters' garth, thinking I'd find her there. She likes open spaces a lot. We have only one room, and I feel terrible when she gets cooped up inside, so I indulge her whenever I can.

Of course, I was right that she'd be in the garth.

I come to a stop and watch as she's running around, to the chagrin of the other nuns. I'm enjoying their discomfort too much to stop her now, but then she suddenly runs towards a foreign man. I frown. Who's that?

I go a little closer and see him smile down at her, his mouth forming some words that I can't understand.

That's it!

I shout out my daughter's name once again, my voice cutting through the air like a sharp knife. Finally, she responds to my call and scrambles back towards me, her feet kicking up dirt as she dashes.

"Mamma," she says in a sheepish tone when she reaches me, knowing that she might be in trouble. I can't help but smile at her bashfulness as I scold her, "To the room, little troublemaker, you've terrorized enough nuns for today!" She revels in the attention and readily agrees to retreat to our accommodations.

But as I turn to follow her, something catches my eye. Mother Superior and Sisi are walking towards an unknown male figure. My curiosity is piqued, and I can't resist lingering for a moment to see what is happening.

"Go on ahead, my dear. I'll join you shortly," I tell Claudia, urging her forward with a gentle push. She gives me a pout but eventually skips off happily towards our room.

Intrigued by the unknown figure and his connection to Sisi, I stealthily make my way towards an arch that allows for better visibility. Once my spot is chosen, I strain to make out the stranger.

And Lord, is he beautiful. Wait... can men be beautiful? I frown a little at that. I'd never thought about it, mostly because I'd never interacted with any males who weren't family. My brother, Enzo, could be considered beautiful, but he is too perfect. No, this stranger is beautiful in a different way.

If I were to cast him in a biblical play (technically I'm only allowed to read those), he'd be Lucifer. Bright, yet with hidden depths. His dark blonde hair is messy and falling down his forehead in unruly strands. His skin has an olive hue, and his features look as if they've been chiseled in stone.

Ahh... I release a dreamy sigh. I guess you can tell how deprived I've been of male eye candy. Enzo had sneaked me a phone with an internet connection, but Lord is it slow. Even now... in this day and age. The images are the worst to load. But considering the fact that I'm breaking the rules just by owning that phone... well, I'll just take what I can get.

For now.

But I do have my celebrity crushes, like Marlon Brando... (the young version, of course). And this man... well, he could give Marlon Brando a run for his money, if he doesn't become obese in old age.

As usual, I start thinking about something, and I lose the thread... My brain really must have gone into overload mode. I'm even feeling a little flushed, and as I fan myself, I imagine what it would be like to be kissed by such a man.

I sigh out loud.

Probably better than kissing Marlon Brando... and I have imagined that quite a bit. I mean, have you seen that clip where he bites his lip? I rest my case.

It must be because I've never been kissed. I've fantasized so much about it that every slightly attractive male becomes my next fixation. But this is the first time I see someone that appeals to me in a non-digital format.

Since that incident, years ago, I've given up hope that I will ever experience that type of feeling in the flesh. But no one can take my fantasies away.

Honestly, even if it happened in real life, who is to say I wouldn't react badly to it, given my trauma?

It's better to admire from a distance. And that man will be the protagonist of my dreams until I get a better internet connection.

I'm once again so lost in my thoughts I don't realize both Sisi and the stranger are now standing up, looking as if they are saying goodbye.

I wait around until both he and Mother Superior are gone before I dash to Sisi's side, ready to get more answers.

"Who was that?" Sisi's startled by my words, and I have to stifle a chuckle at her expression. She puts one hand up and one on her chest, indicating she's catching her breath.

"I told you not to sneak up on people." She shakes her head with a smile, and taking another big gulp of air, she proceeds to tell me all about the foreign male.

"He's my brother."

"Your brother? That ?" I ask, my reaction a bit too telling. Sisi narrows her eyes at me.

"Yes. That ." She laughs. "He came over to give me some updates regarding the family. My other brother, Valentino, committed suicide."

"I'm so sorry," I add immediately, feeling a little silly over my previous gushing when Sisi received such bad news.

"Apparently he was already ill. It doesn't matter now, does it? It's all water under the bridge. I feel bad about it, but it's not like we ever had a close bond... He was essentially a stranger."

"I know what you mean." I take her elbow and we head towards our room. We'd managed, against all odds, to stay together in the same accommodation for years now.

"It's sad. But it is what it is. Marcello promised he'd visit again, and maybe even bring my sister with him," Sisi says, and I can see the longing on her face. She's always had a problem with her family abandoning her at the convent.

Over the years, I'd seen her overcome some of her issues, but that doesn't mean she's stopped hoping that at one point she'd be reunited with them. While she's now resigned to taking her vows soon, it doesn't mean it is what she wants. And I know that better than anyone. She's just making the best out of the hand she's been dealt.

"Marcello?" I ask. Is that his name?

"That's my brother."

"I've never heard you talk about Marcello before," I add tentatively. She's talked about her family in vague terms, and I know Valentino visited sometimes.

"He left the family years ago... it seems he's back now to get the affairs in order."

He left the family? That's interesting. It also paints him in a much more positive light. Sisi knows very little about our families, having been raised in the convent since birth. And I'd never had the heart to tell her they are criminals. I've also had enough interactions with men within the famiglia to know that we are both way better off without them.

My brother is the only exception I can think of. Ever since I was a child, he's protected and shielded me from our father's wrath. He'd even prepared a suitable match for me before the incident. After... he promised to get me out of Sacre Coeur when he inherits.

It's been ten long years now, but I still have not given up hope. I trust Enzo, and I know he will keep his promise. When my father is no longer a concern, Claudia will finally be able to enjoy the outside world. Just thinking about that makes me smile. It's the only thing that's been keeping me going all these years.

"And what did he do?" I probe. I'm a little too curious about the man, I admit.

"He was a lawyer. He put away criminals." Sisi smiles, pride reflected in her gaze. That's definitely a commendable profession. He's earning even more brownie points.

"He's very good looking," I add shamelessly, and I can feel my cheeks immediately redden.

"Lina!" Sisi exclaims in outraged amusement. "So that's why you were so curious." She teases, and I blush even more.

"It's not as if I see a handsome man every day," I argue, but she's having none of that.

"Maybe next time you can meet him, too."

"And do what? Swoon at his feet?" The mere thought of that is hilarious. A scene slowly paints itself in my mind. Me tripping unceremoniously and landing on Marcello's lap.

Meeting his eyes for the first time, and him realizing that we're meant to be. All of it ending, of course, with a kiss. I'm so lost in that scenario that it takes Sisi physically shaking me to get me back to reality.

"You were really gone this time," she chuckles.

"I'm sure he'd want nothing more than a semi-nun with a child," I mutter drily, the reality of it being rather depressing.

"Hey, don't sell yourself short! You are not a nun, and you are beautiful. And I mean really beautiful. Any man would be lucky to have you." She tries to comfort me, but I shrug it off. So what if I'm pretty? My circumstances are decidedly not.

"Never mind." I try to change the subject. I know dreaming is dreaming... but when it becomes hoping, then it has the potential to become harmful.

"Mamma! Aunt Sisi!" Claudia greets us when we get back to our room. "You were gone for so long!" She pouts in her usual fashion and I just shake my head.

"We have baking duty at four," I suddenly remember, my head snapping back to Sisi. Her eyes widen for a moment before checking the time.

"One more hour," she sighs in relief, and I follow suit. Mother Superior would never let us hear the end of it if we're late. The only saving grace is that I can take Claudia with me for all the duties, including cooking and baking. It's one of our most fun activities.

Tomorrow is Sunday, and we have a special banquet for a new priest that's coming to Sacre Coeur. Together with Sisi and a few other sisters, we have been assigned to baking duty to ensure that we have some cakes and pastries to greet the priest with.

"Add a little more flour," I say, squinting at the lumpy mixture Claudia is vigorously stirring. The aroma of freshly baked goods fills the air as we all work on our assigned tasks—chocolate chip cookies and corn cupcakes. Mother Superior herself had paid us a visit earlier, inspecting our recipes and giving her seal of approval for the new priest's welcoming reception.

"Do you know why everyone seems so eager for this new priest?" I inquire to Sisi, who is expertly frosting a row of golden cupcakes. The other sisters are also hard at work, but they are far enough away that we can speak freely.

"I have no idea. It's not like we're in dire need of a new one." Sisi mischievously dips her finger into the creamy frosting, but I quickly swat her hand away and give her a stern look.

"You don't want them to see," I whisper, trying to protect her from their judgmental stares.

Sisi's eyes dart around as I adjust my body to block her from the view of the other sisters.

She rolls her eyes at me but swipes her finger in the frosting again, this time bringing it to my mouth. I raise one eyebrow at her, but seeing that no one's watching, I quickly taste it, too.

The sweetness of the frosting mixes with the bitterness in my heart.

"Not bad," I nod, and Sisi gives me a rare genuine smile.

"See! You need to be naughty every once in a while." She winks at me, a glimmer of rebellion still alive in her spirit.

But Sacre Coeur is not a place for rebellion or fun. It's a place of God, or so they say. Yet, Sisi has tried everything she can think of to break out of the monotony and rules. Falling asleep during prayer, shouting expletives out loud, even switching ingredients during her cooking duty. If she could get away with a prank, she'd do it without hesitation.

But she's mostly grown out of it now. The harsh punishments and endless lectures from Mother Superior have worn her down. But I can't blame her for trying to rebel against this suffocating environment.

Funny how it's always my fault according to Mother Superior. As if being a pregnant teenager was something I intentionally caused. She loves to remind me that I wouldn't even be here if not for my family's influence.

"If even a place of God wouldn't take you, what does that say about you?" Her words still sting like fresh wounds, reminding me of all the times she'd insulted me.

But the real bullies here are not us. It's Mother Superior and her army of nuns and novitiates, who have turned their backs on us because of our "sinful" actions. As if we weren't still human beings deserving of love and forgiveness. But I've learned to ignore their hateful words and focus on protecting my daughter from their cruelty.

"We should have used salt instead of sugar," I say, my voice laced with a hint of bitterness. They are going to great lengths to impress this new priest, and I can't help but feel a little resentful. What is the point?

"Lina, showing some rebelliousness? Who would have thought?" Sisi teases, her eyes sparkling mischievously. But then her expression changes, and she leans in closer.

"I'm not sure how true this is, but I overheard the other novitiates talking. Apparently, the new priest has some powerful connections. That's why Mother Superior is so obsessed with everything being perfect."

"Connections?" I furrow my brow in confusion.

Sisi glances around before leaning in even closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"The Italian mafia." She reveals, and a disbelieving laugh escapes me.

But as I lean back and catch her suspicious gaze, she questions, "Did you already know about this?"

"No, no, of course not. It's just that I can't believe that," I immediately say, not wanting to admit that I was laughing at the irony of the situation. But if the new priest is mafia... then I have to wonder which family he belongs to. I can't say I know a lot about our world either.

Most of the things I'd heard had been by eavesdropping. No one would tell me anything otherwise. I'm most familiar with the New York mafia and the five families. Agosti, my family, and then there's Lastra, Sisi's family. There are three others, Marchesi, Guerra and DeVille.

"That's what they were saying," she shrugs.

"I want some too!" I look down to see Claudia pointing at the frosting. She must have seen us earlier. I can't refuse her, so I make sure no one's watching before sneaking a spoonful of frosting to her.

"It's good," she smiles as she licks the spoon, and I can't help myself. I lean down and kiss the top of her head.

"Are you done with your batter, moppet?"

She nods, and I go over to check the texture. Seeing it's all right, I prepare it for the oven, breaking it up into smaller pieces. Claudia joins me while Sisi continues her own decorating task.

By the end of the day, we have enough batches of cookies and cupcakes for the entire nun population and the special guest. I am a little biased against the man already, if he is indeed mafia. My lips curl in distaste at the thought.

We finish cleaning the kitchen, and then we go back to our room. There are three beds inside now. Until a few years ago, there had been only two, as I'd slept with Claudia on one and Sisi on the other. But with my little troublemaker growing so fast, we'd had to request another bed. It hadn't been the smoothest process, and I'd had to get Enzo to intervene.

Speaking of Enzo... he hadn't visited in a couple of weeks. It's worrying since he sometimes visits weekly. I've been meaning to call him to make sure everything is ok. Maybe I should do that soon...

The following day we all gather together for Sunday service. Familiar sermons echo through the church walls, filling the space with a sense of peace and devotion. But towards the end, Mother Superior's voice rings out above the rest.

"Sacre Coeur is honored to welcome Father Antonio Guerra, one of the brightest priests of his generation. He has been blessed to study under the greatest theological minds at the Vatican, and we are grateful that he accepts our invitation."

A young man, no older than thirty, steps forward from behind the altar. It's Father Guerra.

His appearance is nondescript, yet there's something about him that immediately sets me on edge. As he surveys the congregation, his gaze seems almost predatory—like a hunter searching for prey.

A cold shiver runs down my spine as his eyes lock onto our group, and for a moment, I think I see a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before it disappears just as quickly. Maybe I'm imagining it...or maybe not. I always trust my instincts when it comes to people, and in Father Guerra's case, they're telling me to be wary.

Little do I know that my initial impression of him will prove to be true in ways I could never have imagined.