When Will I See You Again? {Hazbin Hotel Fanfic}

Chapter 2

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Wednesday, August 1st, 1923
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Dear Diary,

I had another nightmare last night. They seem worse when Anthony isn't home, which is bizarre, I know. They're not uncommon in this house though, as sad as that is. I often hear Anthony waking up in the middle of the night; and when he still lived here, Giovanni too. Even Papa sometimes.
They've all seen, done and lived through a lot of horrible things. It takes a toll I guess.

On a lighter note I suppose, Anthony must have arrived in New Orleans by now. It's late afternoon here and there's only an hour difference time wise. I would call him myself, but Papa's been occupying his office with the phone all day and I can't see him leaving any time soon. If an opportunity arises where he does leave though, you bet I'll take it. I already miss Anthony dearly. I hope Alastor treats him well.

As for me? I could only dream of being away from New York right now. Instead I'm waiting inside for the suitor to arrive. I haven't been given a name for him yet, but I know this one matters. After Papa's pep talk with me yesterday, I understand that this suitor in particular is very important. I'll try my best, but I can't promise that I'll like him. After all, I doubt that this one will be any different.

The importance of this suitor is almost too much for me to even think about. I just wish I had someone here to talk to about it all.

Over the past year and a half, I must've counted at least twenty men that have been presented to me.
Anthony or more so Giovanni, if he was around, used to chaperone the suitor meetings, however as of late, they haven't needed to. I know it might seem cruel, but I've recently been refusing to even speak with the suitors past initial introductions. It's not out of vanity though, or even because I'm rotten- because I'm not. It's simply because...I know that it's not what I want.

Out of all the boys that have been presented to me, they've all offered and promised the same things. It's like a script they've been told to read off of; a script filled to the brim with endless compliments and priceless gifts in exchange for the promise of marriage. I will admit, Italian boys- some of them at least, certainly are pretty, and while I did feel genuinely attracted to a few, even that wasn't enough.

It's just all too easy to turn a blind eye to them; accept their compliments with thanks but reject all the gifts along with their promises. I don't want a man that only sees me as a way to better off the family- to connect two powerful groups together. Even if that man sees me as the most beautiful girl in the world, it wouldn't mean anything to me. Trying to stand up for yourself in an inescapable 'do as your told' environment seems like an impossibly unachievable task at times, but I won't give up. I'm too young to settle down, and I won't give up what little freedom I have so easily. I'll be packaged up in a damn Chicago overcoat before that can happen.

***

Molly had been given a whole evening and half a day to get her head around it all. It was late afternoon now of the next day.

From what she knew, the underboss was quite a secretive man. It was also very hushed common knowledge amongst some of the family that he wasn't the most well liked man either, for whatever reason. Nobody ever gave Molly the specifics of that one, not even Anthony.

Of course after Henry had mentioned it yesterday, the name Salvatore Catalano and where she'd heard it before immediately came back to Molly. It was a name that had been brought up in passing conversation for years by Henry, and while Molly had never met the man before yesterday, from what she understood, he and Henry were very close.
They both held capo rank within the family, and if Salvatore's son was the nephew of the underboss, then that meant that Salvatore himself was a brother to the underboss.