Chapter 6

Chapter Five

••~••°••~••

Luciano

••~••°••~••

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 7

Chapter Six

*~°*~°*~°*

Elizabeth

*~°*~°*~°*

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.

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