@betternotmiss / continued from x / FRANK
Paxton had not told Karen about her marriage - it had been bad enough when she learned of the arrangement made with the Wesley family, the endless rage the girl had shown and how many pieces of china had been broken during it, and while the Page family patriarch pretended to have a strong hold over the family, he was no match for the simmering anger that had overcome his eldest when he first told her of her marriage. He preferred to keep this one to himself, to let the future husband tell her because he knew that Karen would at least show a modicum of restraint upon hearing it from a stranger.
Not from him, though. There was no love lost between father and daughter.
Looking up at the man from her spot behind the massive oak desk, Karen watched the frown set deep into his features, the way the lines drew in and his face held that look of distaste to it. When he introduced himself, she almost pointed out she knew who he was - who didn’t know of Francis Castiglione? - but then he said he was to be her husband and her own features froze, slack. Those wide blue eyes stared back at him, her lips pursing into a thin line.
“I believe,” she started with the same drawl, rising to her full height unabashed and unafraid, “that you are mistaken. I have no need for another husband seeing that I am widowed.” The heartless widow; it was a title that followed Karen often, whispered by men and women alike, the widow that never grieved when she learned of her husband’s death, that never once cried or showed remorse for a life lost to a bloody and violent war. “So you can tell my father to tell whoever he spoke with about this little…arrangement,” and her hand waved at the man in front of her almost dismissively, “that I will not be a willing party to it.”
Frank was used to a lot from women. They either threw themselves at him or pretended to take an interest in their shoes when he walked the streets. What he wasn’t used to was being dismissed. Shit, he’ll have his hands full with this one. All the more reason he wished he could call it off. He’d already had one head strong woman in his life. Had Lisa been allowed to grow older, he’d have had two. But this one-Karen, he reminded himself- didn’t have to be his problem. Frank could tell his Capo that this woman was defected and buy himself at least a few more months of solitude.
And become the laughingstock of every Underboss and Captain he’d work with. He’d have to flood the streets with blood in an effort to save his reputation. Not that he minded spilling blood. He simply didn’t want to when he could buck up and deal with a fair haired, mouthy widow. “I don’t believe there was a clause that said you needed to be willing...ma’am. The deal was struck by powers far above the both of us.” In other words, he thought, I am just as powerless as you.
Because it pleased him, The Enforcer took a stroll around her office, making notes of the things she kept and their organization. He wasn’t overly tidy, but he had a modicum of self respect and kept his area clean. Frank wanted to be sure his future bride was, too. Arriving to the front of her desk, he glanced back to her. “The wedding shall take place at the end of the month. I trust you can muster up a wedding gown by then.” It wasn’t a question.
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