Chapter 4

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Luciano

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Where the fuck am I?

Certainly not my fucking bed!

My head feels so heavy and it takes everything in me not to yank it off. One moment I'm sending a knife through that fucking priest's throat and the other moment... I'm crawling into the church.

If someone told me I would be anywhere near the altar, I would have called them a fool.

Now look who just crawled into the temple...

I'm still struggling to remember what happened after that, everything just pops up in my head vaguely, leaving more gaps and questions.

Well, for starters, I remember getting shot. Not by the priest by the way. The man was such a weakling that killing him could count as the easiest one I've ever done. So no, he wasn't the one. It was someone else entirely, and before I could draw my attention to whoever it was, they fled like fucking cowards.

Which means I was right earlier. I was being followed. And that's a puzzle I'm willing to solve later.

The real deal is-how did I get here? I'm stitched up alright, but that does not answer the question of what am doing in a room this small, a closet that wouldn't even fit my entire body, a candle, a reading table... Is that the crucifix?

A rosary?

And what else is that?...

Fucking Christ! I just ended up in my worst nightmare.

I run a hand through my hair, frustrated and utterly aware of the pain at my sides. Whoever did the stitching was a complete amateur.

Then, I remember...

There was a woman-strawberry blonde hair, hazel eye colour, and yes... she was wearing... a nun's habit?

I took one good look around my surroundings again, then it dawned on me where I really was.

Shit!

Looking to the side of the bed, something twisted rumbled through my chest when I saw the gun I had with me earlier today. At least she didn't take this from me.

If she brought me here, then where the hell was she? Did she leave the room for me or what?

I'm still checking the room out when I hear footsteps approaching. Survival instincts kicked in and I clutched my gun tightly, ready to pull the trigger at which ever intruder walked in through that door.

Managing to get up, because this is not the first time I've been grazed by a bullet, I walked towards the door, staying by the side, waiting.

The door handle turned, and I lifted my gun, pointing. Whoever was at the other end was surely taking their time to get in, and I've never been a man of patience.

So this is surely getting on my nerves for sure.

For the first time in my life, I waited... waited for the door to open. It did and an unsuspecting woman in a white night dress slipped in, shutting the door behind her.

I didn't wait for her.

She didn't see me, because I stood at the other side of the door, so technically I'm standing behind her. I notice her eyes widen when she looked at the bed. A knowing grin creeped up my face and I knew she was looking for me.

Enough of the cat and mouse game.

She took a step forward, and I pulled her towards me, maneuvering our position in such a way that I had her pinned against the wall, and my bare chest pressing against her.

When she noticed who I was, realized that I was now awake, she tried to scream but I was fast... faster than she could ever be.

I raised my hand to her mouth, suppressing whatever noise that would have filled my ears if I didn't.

"Do not make a sound," I warned her, raising the gun to the side of her head, pressing the barrel against her head. She gasped, eyes widening in fear-shock too perhaps, a tear rolling down her cheek but I caught it quickly, wiping it off.

She was terrified. Good.

You would be impressed by what people do when they let fear take over them.

"I'll take my hands off your lips, but first you have to promise me one thing," I started by saying, studying her face for any form of foul play. She was clean.

Just an ordinary nun.

She nodded too quickly, another tear rolling down her cheek.

Fuck! Why won't she stop crying?

I hate being close to women when they're shedding tears. It's not something that has ever gone down well with me.

Now I'm here, up close with one that looks like she might collapse in my hands.

"You won't make a sound, okay? You'll be quiet... be obedient and do whatever I ask you to do. And if you don't... I'll kill you." I use my hand to dramatize the killing part, to make the threat more effective. "Then I'll kill the rest of the women here. And you'll go to hell with their blood on your hands. Is that what you want, angel?"

She shook her head as quickly as before.

"Good girl."

Then I slowly take my hand off her mouth, leaving my gun pressed to her head, waiting for the slightest noise so I can fulfill my threat to her. But just as I had expected, she didn't make a noise.

Her eyes were fixed on mine, but the terror in them was unmistakable.

With our eyes fixated on each other, I take my time to study her closely. My earlier descriptions of her were correct.

Strawberry blonde hair.

Hazel eyes.

Pink lush lips that were made to do something else other than recite holy prayers.

I quickly push that thought aside.

She's a fucking nun... a terrified one for that matter.

We're so close to each other that her breasts are all up in my business. Even with the plain ugly nightdress, I know too well that she's got big round tits. Don't ask me how I know. I just do. Because they're pressing into my chest.

And with every little inhale and exhale she does, her chest rises and her tits jiggle a bit.

Reluctantly, I drag my eyes back to her face. She's beautiful... not the the type you say to women just to compliment them. No.

I really mean this one.

She's fucking pretty... too pretty to be tied up inside here. I'm guessing that's why they hid her in a convent, because she's definitely not safe out there.

So they hid her...

Especially from men like me.

I didn't expect nuns to be this pretty. I usually imagined them to have ugly wrinkled faces that no man would dare to look at them, making it easier for them to stick to their vows in peace.

But this one?

This one was everything my imagination didn't think about.

She let out a little whimper, halting my dirty thoughts about her.

"A-are you going to kill me?" she asked in a little angelic voice that leads the blood in my veins all the way to my cock.

I'm tempted... I'm fucking tempted to grind against her, but I force myself to pay attention.

"Did you stitch me up?" I asked, which was definitely not what I wanted to do.

But this is life, and in life we don't really get what we want always.

She nodded before answering, "Yes... I'm sorry."

Sorry?

Sorry for what exactly?

I nearly slap a hand against my face to contain my frustration and confusion.

"You brought me up here?"

"Yes."

"Then no, angel. I'm not going to kill you."

She heaved a sigh of relief, but her eyes and body told me she was still terrified. Reluctantly, I pulled myself off from her. I might not be a saint or into church affairs, but I know what happens when a man is found alone with a nun.

Honestly, I don't care who sees us. I'll just shoot their heads off the moment it happens.

The only reason I move away from her is because I'm badly injured and if the one who shot at me makes his way here, I wouldn't be able to defend us both.

"Turn around. Eyes on the wall," I ordered, and she obeyed immediately, not asking questions.

She was really scared for sure.

And when she turned, I nearly groaned out loud.

Her ass... Shit! Fuck! They're to die for.

Big, Round, and Curvy.

They're definitely not supposed to be in that ugly dress.

My eyes trail from her ass upwards, while I took steps away from her.

My body protesting with each step that I took. And when I got to the window, I stopped, taking one more good look at her.

Then it struck me immediately-this is defintely not the last time I'll see her, because she just triggered my interest.

So she can cling to her vows all she wants, I'll break them one by one.

With that thought in mind, I jumped through the window.

Chapter Five

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Luciano

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When Alessandro Moretti, the capo dei capi and my cousin, enters the study, everyone stands and keeps standing until he takes his seat at the head of the table. No one knows why we've all been summoned.

The last time we had this sort of meeting, we ended up having a raid on the Russians. Lots of blood spilled and lives lost.

My favourite thing to do.

Now, I have this feeling we're not here for the Russians, but something else entirely. And the suspense is killing me.

I've never been a patient man with these kind of things.

Alessandro turned towards the guard and motioned his head towards the door.

"Leave and close the door. Make sure no one else comes in, not even my wife."

The guard nodded quickly, making his way to the exit and locking the door after him. Alessandro leaned back in his chair, eyeing us all like he was contemplating the right time to drop the bomb he had in mind.

"As you already know, the Russians are after something we want," he said, pausing for a moment and allowing his words to sink in. "And in case we've all forgotten what it is, I'll remind you. Stefano Bianchi, my father's late underboss has a land and this land has proven to be an effective route for us... for smuggling our containers. We need to gain control over it by any means."

"And what's stopping us?" I blurt out before anyone could.

Alessandro shifts his gaze to me, letting it linger on my side where the bullet grazed against my skin two days ago before fixing it back to my face.

If he's disappointed, he doesn't show it. The man has a way of masking his emotions.

"Stefano left the land in the possession of his wife and two daughters. My father and Stefano had a rift before he died, one that extended to his family. So, we can't just ask them for the ownership of the land because unfortunately, it won't work that way. And we can't kill them too, if that's what you're thinking. They've got the FBI's backup somehow, even though they have no idea what the land can be used for. If we kill them, it'll attract the cops to our doorstep, snooping where they shouldn't. We don't need that right now."

"I didn't think the old man had it in him to be this smart. He's dead and still causing problems," Marco muttered to himself, but with the expression on everyone's faces, I'm sure everyone caught it.

"Which is why I've decided to handle this the old-fashioned way before the Russians get hold of it. That family has got all we need-their land and to add to it, Stefano has a file that contains some of our deadliest secrets. Secrets that we can't let get out, because if it does..." He paused, his stare shifting from each of us, "Then the FBI gets hold of it. The bastard knew this would happen which was why he insured his family against this. He made sure to state that if anything happens to them, it should be traced back to us. And those women have no idea what they're deep into."

Nicholas cleared his throat, his fingers drumming against his thigh. "Stefano knew we would want this which was why he got the FBI as insurance. What do you think we should do? Because you've already said we can't kill them."

Alessandro raised his eyebrows. "We can't. Like I said, we're doing this the old-fashioned way."

"Which is?" Sergei, the consigliere and the only one who seems to think things through before acting asked.

"We have to organize a wedding to seal a deal between us and the Bianchis. That's the only way we can gain access, at least for a while until we take possession of what we want and the file we're looking for." He leaned forward, taking a long look at each of us. "So, who would like to volunteer to be the lucky groom?"

Nobody said a word. Probably because it wasn't what we were expecting or perhaps, no one wanted to be saddled with the burden of having a wife.

Either way, no one is talking.

Alessandro got married two years ago and I'm sure the man thinks that because his marriage clicked for him, then it'll be the same with us all.

Love.

That's what it does to you-it fills you with illusions that have no possibility of coming true.

I wonder who he will pick, because if no one volunteers then he'll definitely be choosing someone. It won't be me, because everyone knows am a blood thirsty lunatic. My dealings with humans have only ended with their blood all over me, and sometimes... with me having a little taste of it.

My eyes find their way to Marco and Nicholas. Those two look horrified at the news. They never thought a day would come when they'll sit and talk marriage.

When I take my eyes off them, Sergei's stare meets mine and I know exactly what he's thinking.

It's either him or me.

"What, no one wants a pretty woman? Maybe this will help change your mind." He reaches into the pocket of his jacket, takes out a photo, and passes it to Nicholas. "Gemma Bianchi, the available daughter of my father's underboss, and the perfect wife for the lucky groom," he revealed, while a smirk remained on his face the entire time he spoke.

The man thinks this is funny.

"Marriage is terrifying. Imagine having to fuck one pussy for the rest of your life. I'm sorry-no, can't do," Marco murmured, raising his hands in the air. "Pick Nicholas. He's ready."

Nicholas snapped his head to the side so quickly that I'm sure he must have cracked a bone. "I'm not getting married. That's the least of my priorities. Come to think of it... it's not even on my list of priorities."

Alessandro smiled, his stare settling back on Sergei and I.

Well, I'm not getting married either. So it has to be Sergei or we're finding another goddamn way around this.

"It's not a matter for contemplation. One of you has to step in. This land is a great smuggling route for a lot of traffickers and buyers. I will not lose it because someone thinks marriage is terrifying."

I felt my body go still at the mention of traffickers.

It's been long since I've heard someone mention them.

What if this is the opportunity I've been waiting for all these years?

What if this is the right time to figure out who my sister's killers were?

A land route great for smuggling would definitely attract them... it'll lead me to them for sure.

This is my chance. The only chance I've got.

I take the photo Sergei passes to me and look down at it.

Gemma.

I can manage an engagement with her until her family hands over control of the route.

Until I'm able to avenge my sister's death. Grinding my teeth, I pass the picture back to Alessandro.

"I'll take her," I announced.

As expected, absolute silence filled the room and all eyes focused on me. Even Sergei looks surprised. I turn to Alessandro who regards me with his eyebrows raised.

"You will marry her?" he questions in disbelief.

"Yes. Invite them over. The earlier we start courting, the faster we can get this over with."

"I was planning to give her to Sergei if no one volunteered. He's the only one that's calm enough to stay with a woman for as long as we pull this through."

I shrugged, leaning back into my chair. "Well, too late. I've indicated interest."

Silence ensues again, but I notice the guys throwing looks in my direction. They're probably wondering what has gotten into me to claim an actual human being for myself. But I can't tell them why. No one is supposed to know, including Alessandro.

Because if I do tell them, they'll fucking want to get involved.

Alessandro watches me too, like he's trying to figure my state of mind out. He can try all he wants but he wouldn't find anything.

He shakes his head, settling into the chair. "Let's organize a wedding then."

Chapter Six

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Elizabeth

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My mama hates me.

No, maybe that was too harsh-my mama looks at me like she hates me.

Every time she looks at me, I feel like I'm something she can't stand the sight of.

A disappointment.

A disgrace.

An excuse of a daughter.

My heart always sinks when she looks at me like that. Over the years I've learnt how to control my tears when she hits me or says degrading words to me. Although sometimes I let the tears flow when the words are too much for me to bear.

And something tells me today will be one of those days.

When Mother Roselyn called me into her office earlier, telling me I had a visitor, I strongly hoped it would be Gemma-my sister and not Mama. To my dismay, my wish wasn't granted.

She stood behind the Cathedral, her normal waiting spot. Even though I know she picks it because it was supposed to be the perfect place for her to hit me without anyone interfering.

Not like if they interfered, she would ever stop.

"Hello Mama," I muttered, releasing my trembling fingers from my habit. "You haven't been here in weeks, is there a problem at home?"

She murmurs something under her breath, something I didn't hear.

Mama gives me a once over look from my head downwards, a sigh following after. "Gemma is getting married," she revealed, her face beaming with pride. "She is getting married to one of the Don's trusted men-his enforcer. It's a good arrangement for our families."

"Gemma-" I tried to speak but she cut me off.

"The only reason I'm here telling you this is because the Don needs everyone in attendance when they arrive for dinner tonight. That includes Gemma and... you. So you will make up some excuse and come back home today, because unlike some people who only bring bad luck with them, there are others who bring us lots of good luck. And your sister is one of them."

I ignore the insulting remark made to rattle me and focus on the main reason she's here.

Gemma is getting married?!

Does she have any idea about this?

Regardless of the fact that Gemma and I are of the same age-a theory I've tried to decipher since we were kids. We aren't twins, neither is there any reasonable explanation for why we fall under the same age gap. Which is why I can't help but wonder why we are the same age.

Whenever I ask Mama about it, she always shrugs it off and tells me off for asking her stupid questions. And since then, I've never really asked. Regardless of this fact, it doesn't mean Gemma is ready to be forced into an arranged marriage.

No one gets involved in arranged marriages in this century. Such things are supposed to be of the past.

"Have you asked Gemma if this is what she wants? If she really wants to-" The words were still in my mouth when a harsh stinging slap collided with my cheek, rattling my teeth as my head whipped to the side. I stumbled back, the taste of blood coating my mouth. A glance at her fingers confirms she's wearing a ring, and it must have cut my lip.

I quickly wiped it off before anyone would see. It's nothing a little balm can't fix.

My eyes simmered with tears and I gripped my habit so I wouldn't lose control. That would only get her angry even more.

Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes as I placed a hand over my cheek. Biting my lower lip to keep my cries in, I mustered courage to turn to the side, in order to check if anyone saw. Seeing that the coast was clear, I turned my eyes back to Mama, whose stare, if able, would have burnt a hole through me.

"Don't you stand there and question my decisions. Are you saying am incapable of making the right decisions for my daughter? Huh?" She shouted, pointing her finger at me.

When I didn't answer immediately, she grabbed me by my hair and yanked us away from the spot we were. I bit back on my bottom lip to supress the pain from how harsh she held my hair.

"No Mama. That's not what I'm saying. You misunderstood me, please. I just asked because I needed to know what Gemma thought of the arrangement," I managed to say.

She released her grip on my hair, her eyes darting around, checking for any object she would use on me to satisfy her level of anger.

Panic clawed at my chest as I stepped back away from her, my safety instincts kicking in.

Her face fell when she couldn't find anything to use on me, so she resorted to the next best thing-using her mouth.

"You stupid, foolish, ungrateful child! You will never cease to grasp an opportunity to insult me... to question me."

"I didn't mean... it's not what I meant."

She reached out and grabbed me by the back of my neck, shaking me so hard I'm afraid she might break it.

A short reprieve comes when she shoves me so hard I bounce against the wall, crumpling to the floor. My hands remained close to my mouth, to suppress my cries from getting out.

"You know what?! I think you're jealous. You wish it could have been you they wanted. But, let me tell you... no one wants an epitome of bad luck like you. No one would want you. Thank goodness you're locked up here. Stick to God. He seems to be the only one that can tolerate your nonsense," she yelled, finally picking up a large sizeable rock in her hand.

Oh my God.

I quickly stood up, my hands to my mouth, but the fear that she might smash it on me chopped at my insides.

"I'm so sorry, Mama. I didn't mean it like that," I muttered, as fear clogged my throat. When she got closer, I closed my eyes, screaming loudly.

But nothing came afterwards.

When I opened them, Mama was fuming with rage, the stone now on the floor in pieces.

Seems like my scream startled her and she thought someone must have heard.

She grabbed my hand forcefully and pulled me towards her. "Let's go! I'm done with you and your drama."

I don't want to go home with her because she will only finish what she started. There's no reason for me to be at this dinner. Mama can just make an excuse for me. But I guess if the Don gives an order, everyone must follow it strictly.

"Mama I have to take permission before I leave," I told her as she dragged me off the premises through the back gate so no one would see us.

She didn't respond nor did she spare me any glance. Her eyes were fixated on the road with nothing but hatred and digust in them.

Hatred towards me.