Her face scares me. She looks frightened. If Mom’s scared, then I should be too. She’s supposed to be the one who keeps me safe.~
~I watch as Mom picks up her suitcase and unlocks the door.
I blink my eyes open to an unfamiliar room. It’s big and way too spacious. I don’t need all this space, but that’s the least of my worries.
I’m not at home, and I have no idea where I am.
But the door seems like the only option right now.
I try to open it, but it’s locked from the outside. No matter how much I pull and shake the doorknob, it won’t move, so I start banging on the door.
This is crazy. My life is completely turned upside down for reasons I can’t understand.
Suddenly, the door swings open, and I fall back onto the floor.
I look up to see one of the men who was at my house before everything went black. He’s still in a suit, and he’s still not smiling.
“Your father wants to see you.”
“He’s not my father,” I retort without thinking about the consequences.
He doesn’t say anything, just motions for me to get up. “Stand.”
I have no idea how I got into this mess, and I have no idea how I’m going to get out of it.
I get up from the floor and follow the man down the hallway. It’s long, a little dark, and not at all welcoming.
The floors are covered in red carpet, which I’ve always associated with fancy or high-class places. But that’s just me.
The man stops at a door that’s bigger than the others and knocks. “Sir, it’s Viktor.”
I hear Vadim’s voice say, “Come in, Viktor.”
Viktor opens the door, and Vadim is sitting behind a big cherry-colored desk, writing like he’s some kind of businessman.
But what really makes my heart drop is the gun casually sitting on his desk.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
I look up, realizing I’ve been staring at the gun. “I…”
“I bet you’re wondering, ‘Has he killed people with that gun?’ or, ‘Was he telling the truth?’
“Well, my dear, the answer to both of those questions is yes,” Vadim says, a proud smile on his face. He puts his pen down. “Give us a moment, Viktor.”
Viktor nods and leaves the room. Now it’s just Vadim and me, and that terrifying silver gun I can’t stop staring at.
“Sit down, Elaina. We have a lot to discuss.” He gestures to the chair in front of him. As he picks up the gun, I instinctively step back, and he chuckles.
“You can’t seriously think I brought you all this way to kill you? Sit down, Elaina. I won’t ask again.”
All this way? How far did we go?
I slowly sit down in the chair in front of his desk, placing my hands in my lap. “Where…where are we?”
“While you were sleeping, I brought you home to Chicago,” he answers, and my eyes go wide.
My heart starts racing as I realize what’s happening. This is a kidnapping. I’m not even in the same state anymore.
“Where’s my mom?”
“Don’t worry about her. She’s fine…for now. As long as you do as you’re told, your mother won’t be harmed,” Vadim assures me, but I’m worried about what he means by “do as you’re told.”
“What do you mean?”
He stands up from his desk and walks around to my side. “The thing about our family business is trust, Elaina. That, and connections.
Vadim talks about this Mafia business like it’s a family tradition, something to be proud of. It’s criminal, and no one seems to be stopping them.
“We’re building bridges with the Italians. It’s a golden opportunity, a power move,” he goes on. I’m clueless about how I fit into this equation.
I shake my head in response.
“You’re going to marry Marco’s son, Valentino.”
My mouth falls open, and I stare at him, shock written all over my face. “No,” I say, my voice firm.
Before I can comprehend the stupidity of talking back to this dangerous stranger, his hand connects with my face. I grip the arm of the chair for support.
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that. You will show me respect, and when the Acerbis visit tonight, you will show them respect too.” His glare is icy, his words hissed through clenched teeth.
My cheek throbs, and I know it’s going to leave a mark. I’ve never been hit before. Not by my mom, not even by a school bully. This is a first.
They’re coming here. The Italians. I’m trapped in a house full of Mafia members, a pawn in their twisted game.
Vadim calls them harsh, which doesn’t make the prospect of meeting them any less daunting.
He’s forcing me to marry a stranger, a criminal, all to strengthen ties in some illicit business.
My life didn’t start the day I turned eighteen; it ended.
Vadim sends a dress to the room I woke up in earlier today, so I can get ready for dinner with the Acerbis.
He’s practically gift-wrapping me for them. It feels like some sort of sex trade.
The thought that this man, this monster, is biologically my father makes my skin crawl.
He doesn’t have a fatherly bone in his body. It’s all about power. But then again, that’s what the Mafia is all about, as far as I know.
Until now, I didn’t even know the Mafia still existed. I thought they vanished in the seventies or eighties.
I stand in front of a full-length mirror in the room, looking at the dress. It fits me perfectly. Not too tight, not too loose. Just right.
The black fabric clings to my body and ends just above my knee, revealing a hint of cleavage.
Black isn’t the color I would have chosen for this occasion. It feels like I’m dressing for a funeral—maybe my own.
There’s a knock at the door, and I glance at it nervously. “Yes?”
The door creaks open, and Viktor gestures for me to hurry. “Get a move on. The Acerbis are here.”
“Um…do we have any makeup?” I know it’s a ridiculous question, but the bruise on my face from Vadim’s slap is hard to miss.
If only I had some foundation to cover it up.
Viktor rolls his eyes. “Listen, princess, your father didn’t bring you here to pamper you. Two minutes.”
I’m well aware of that: he’s not a father; he’s a businessman. I don’t want to get married, but I want my mom to be safe.
So now, I have to go downstairs and dine with a bunch of lunatics with guns strapped to their hips.
I smooth down my long brown hair, leaving it loose. I don’t have any styling tools, and I have no intention of impressing anyone. This is pure misery.
When I open the door, Viktor is waiting for me, looking impatient. He leads me downstairs without a word.
He’s intimidating, to say the least. He never shows any emotion and hardly ever speaks. He just follows orders.
I haven’t had a chance to explore the house yet, though I’m not sure if I’m allowed to. I’ve been locked in that room all day, like Rapunzel, but my hair isn’t going to save me from this nightmare.
We reach the dining room, and Viktor opens the grand doors. Across from Vadim, two men sit, both dressed in expensive-looking suits.
I swear they hear me gulp because they all turn to look at me.
“There she is,” Vadim announces, gesturing to the seat next to him. “Sit, Elaina.”
I’m terrified. I can’t hide that. Especially not when these people are discussing my life, and I have no say in it.
I ease into the chair next to Vadim, staring at the empty plate in front of me. Empty, just like my heart.
“Elaina, don’t be rude. Let me introduce you,” Vadim chides me, making me lift my head obediently. I don’t want another slap.
He points to the older man with black hair, streaked with gray. “This is Marco Acerbi.”
“Hello,” I squeak out. He’s just as Vadim described. His look is harsh, stern, and there’s not a hint of warmth in his face.
He doesn’t even respond to my greeting.
Vadim turns to the younger man, a smile spreading across his face. I already know who this is. “This is Valentino Acerbi. He’s next in line to become the capo of the Italians.”
“Capo?” I ask, remembering Vadim using the term earlier but not giving it much thought.
“It means leader,” Vadim explains.
I sneak a look at Valentino. His eyes are a deep, unreadable brown. His black hair is perfectly in place, not a strand out of line. His face is covered in a light stubble.
He’s definitely not a teenager, that much is clear. He has the same stern look as his father.
His lips are pressed into a thin line, and no one seems to want to address the elephant in the room—our impending forced marriage.
“Vadim, I must say I’m impressed,” Marco finally breaks the silence. “You’ve managed to keep your daughter hidden for eighteen years. Well done.”
“It’s a dangerous business,” Vadim replies tersely. “I trust Valentino will take his role as protector seriously once Elaina becomes an Acerbi.”
Valentino doesn’t get a chance to respond; his father speaks for him. “We hold family in high regard.
“The Acerbi name carries weight, and once she’s part of our family, she’ll be untouchable.”
I see Vadim’s smirk widen. “I suppose we should start planning a wedding.”
I want to protest, but the memory of the last time I did so—and the slap that followed—keeps me silent.
“The sooner, the better,” Marco responds tersely. “Valentino isn’t getting any younger, and as you well know, Vadim, alliances are crucial.”
“Of course.”
Vadim snaps his fingers and in no time, the maids hand him three cigars. He offers one to Marco, who accepts it graciously, and extends another to Valentino.
“I don’t care for cigars,” Valentino replies.
“It’s a celebration, my son. A union of two powerful families. This is a momentous occasion,” Vadim insists, urging Valentino to take the cigar.
I stare at my plate, feeling the tension in the room rise. It’s one thing for Vadim to slap me, but I’m pretty sure he can’t do the same to Valentino.
The conversation quickly shifts, and for the rest of the evening, it stays mostly in English. Not that it matters to me—I’m not included in the conversation anyway.
The men talk, mostly Vadim and Marco, while I sit in silence throughout the entire dinner. I’m like a statue, too scared to breathe, too scared to move.
My mom could be out there looking for me right now. The moment I get a chance, I’m running away. There’s no way I’m spending my life tangled up in this madness. It’s absurd.
