A Love So Dangerous

I held the razor-sharp knife tightly. I took no notice of the way the blade cut deep into the flesh of my palm. I took no notice of my crimson blood which spilled out and stained the carpet below.

It actually relieved me. To feel my body in physical pain was a great distraction from the emotional pain that troubled me. I wasn't one to harm myself but I didn't know how to react and my knife was just there.

Father wanted me to get married to a stranger. No, he forced me to. He left me with no choice. Granted, I could run, I could hide, but I wouldn't do something like that.

Throughout my whole life, I had been nothing but a disappointment to him and this affirmed it. I was nothing more than a mere commodity; an object to trade at his will. He never fucking liked me and I did nothing to earn his approval because I would never get it.

My name was Sienna Zannotti, and I was the Don of the Italian mafia. Father only passed it down to me because he was aging and had no male heirs, which was quite unfortunate for the bastard.

He didn't even have any illegitimate sons even though he fucked different whores day in and day out. He hated watching me take over his mafia, making it mine, making the power mine, but I never asked for this life.

Sadly, I grew up as an only child being raised by maids and nannies. Father was far too busy and he was disgusted by me anyway.

The phrase "You killed your mother" was something I heard every single day of my life. Mother, my beautiful mother died during childbirth. I didn't mean to kill her, I didn't ask to be born. So there he was, my cruel wicked father, who forced Mother into marrying him.

I knew he definitely forced her because she couldn't have been in love with him. The maids often told me what a beauty mother was, how wildly spirited she was, and how father broke her piece by piece. In a way, I was glad that she was not here. She broke free and I was still here.

So here I sat, thinking of a way out. Running away was impossible. If I were to run away, my whole life would be false. I was born to be a Don. The power ran in my veins.

Besides, Father would hunt me down and no doubt have someone kill me while I slept. Perhaps I could kill the bastard. But if someone found out, I would be screwed over.

I was only twenty-three years old and he had offered my hand in marriage without even asking me. I knew he would have never even asked.

The thought had never crossed my mind. Perhaps a couple of times when I was a young girl. But I always imagined marrying a prince, not the boss of the American Mafia.

The American Mafia was well known for its reputation for being manipulative and brutal. They were deadly, even I was impressed. The mafia boss I didn't know much about, only his name.

I was to be wedded to Eric Connall. The roles of women in Mafias were very traditional. They were to obey and serve.

If Father thought that uniting our Mafias through marriage would mean I'd give up my mafia to Eric, he had got another thing coming.

And if the fucking Eric Connall expected me to obey and serve him, I'd gladly cut out his fucking heart and shove it down his throat.

Father, as he put it, gave me away to form an alliance with the American mafia. To ensure peace between our mafia and theirs. No one wanted a war. It was a strategic move and nothing more.

"Cara!" I yelled.

Not a moment later a pretty blonde entered my bedroom. Cara was my best friend and one of my many guards. She was highly intelligent and a skilled killer. I wanted a woman to be my personal guard mainly to overthrow the patriarchal system in the mafia.

"Cara, I need you to call a maid to pack my things ready for tomorrow," I said as I stared down at my hand.

Dried blood coated my fingertips as the cut on my palm still bled. The pain didn't bother me. I had suffered worse and survived.

Cara nodded and walked over to me. She sighed, kneeling beside me. She gently held my hand in hers as she prodded the knife from my grip.

"Let's get you cleaned up." She smiled warmly.

She didn't ask what happened because she knew. I watched her bandage my hand gently and very neatly.

I felt numb, cold, and alone as I sipped scotch from a clear crystal glass in hopes that it would make me feel warm inside but it never did. My hand throbbed almost as much as the headache I had now acquired.

"Your father still wants you to marry?" Cara asked as she took a seat on the edge of my bed, crossing her legs.

She knew that I had practically begged him to stop this marriage, and she knew how he just laughed at me, telling me to fuck off.

"Yes."

I walked over to my balcony windows and looked up into the night sky. Stars glimmered and shone, with a shooting star falling, and I wished for happiness.

I had argued with father to no avail. It was a done deal. I ran a finger down my cheek where Father slapped me last. I may not have been bruised but I'd always remember.

I closed my eyes as I wished for his death over and over again. If only I could do it and free myself but that was another predicament. If I killed him, my mafia would turn on me. I'd be shunned and disowned. After all, there was no crime greater than killing your own blood.

I turned back to face Cara. Her brown eyes held so much pity for me. I didn't like that one bit, but I appreciated her so much. "I just want to be alone right now," I said, my voice laced with sadness.

She lowered her eyes to the ground, then walked over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder to reassure me. There was nothing more she could say or do. I felt her fingers lightly squeeze my shoulder before she left my room, closing the door behind her.

I wasn't alone for long as a maid came by to pack my things. I drank some more scotch while I watched her scramble to pack my clothes.

"Don't fucking pack my lingerie. Are you insane? Do you think I'm just going to fuck him?" I growled and the maid flinched when I spoke.

I knew I was being too harsh, but I was fucking angry. What if he was old or a disgusting womanizer? What if he beat women? I'd never let him touch me.

I shook my head of those thoughts when I received an incoming call.

"Yes, I'll be there in ten minutes," I spoke into the phone to one of my guards who was taking care of a little problem. It seemed as though if you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself.

I sighed and pulled on a black hoodie over my crop top and jeans. I changed out of my heeled boots and into sneakers because things were about to get messy. I left the maid in my room and headed outside.

I climbed into my favorite red Lamborghini as I looked at the setting sun through the tinted windows. Hues of red, amber, and yellow blended into each other, and they made a pretty picture. Cara promptly took a seat beside me and strapped herself in.

I knew I had to leave tonight to make it in time to reach America tomorrow to see that man. But that was the luxury of owning my own plane; I could leave whenever I wanted to.

I turned on the ignition to the car and felt the thrilling purr of the engine. I pushed my foot down and drove the car to my destination. Perhaps this was as free as I'd ever felt.

I cruised down small streets and along long ams empty roads. I was breaking every law yet I evaded justice. I was the law in Italy.

Upon arriving at a desolate warehouse, I exited my car. My dark mid-back length hair fluttered across my face as I had failed to tie it into a ponytail.

As I walked towards the building, I was immediately let inside and some guards even bowed their heads. Respect was earned, never given. And I had earned everything I worked for.

The room I was led to was small and damp. The place reeked of a metallic odor. A blend of blood and bleach was almost enough to make one gag. I smirked when I saw a man tied up on a metal chair. He was a fucking rat.

"I absolutely despise snitches because we all know they are nothing but bitches," I said but the man didn't dare to look into my eyes. "And you know what they say, snitches end up in ditches. But that's not how I run things. You see in my book, stealing is punishable by death, killing is punishable by death, and snitching is punishable by... You guessed it, death." I grinned evilly.

I chuckled darkly as I turned my back to the man. "Even if you simply annoy the fuck out of me, I'd kill you."

I faced the man who remained mute. He was bloodied and beaten as I had requested. And yet he gave nothing away.

I wanted to know who he snitched about my business affairs to because the worst thing any Mafia could have were reckless immature snitches who ran off to the police or sold out secrets to the highest bidders.

The police were in my pockets, but that didn't mean they wouldn't bring me down if they had a chance to.

I knew for a fact that they were building a case against me. I let them because it amused me a great deal. How could they think they could even touch me? How could they think they could bring me down? No one could fucking bring me down.

"So you won't talk? I have no use for you," I stated as I pulled out my knife from my pocket.

The ugly middle-aged man seemed to have awoken from his muted trance as tried to pull at his bonds. You bitch! he yelled in Italian.

I gasped as I held a hand to my heart. "You hear that, Cara, he called me a bitch. Me, a bitch. Never." I smirked as I approached the man. In an instant, I had pushed the knife deeply across his throat in a single straight line.

Blood spluttered out as it sprayed onto me. I watched as it took exactly five seconds for the man to choke on his own blood and surrender to death.

That was a really nasty way to go but it was necessary nevertheless. I couldn't be lenient because once I did, everyone would know me as a soft touch. And they would walk all over me like a doormat. I had already had it tough, being a woman as I was.

I pulled out my phone from my pocket and checked the time. I suppose I'd better go. Father would be waiting for me and God forbid if I ran late. A guard handed me a towel and I wiped my hands and some of the blood that stained my face.

The mess here would be cleaned up and sorted in the blink of an eye. The body would vanish, and the blood washed away. The snitch would be wiped from existence.

After driving to my plane, I shrugged off my hoodie and tossed it to the ground. I walked up the few steps onto the plane. My body stiffened at the sight of Father who was already seated inside.

Father noticed me and scowled, but it was a look I had grown accustomed to. "My my, Sienna, you look like shit. I don't know how I got you married off," he rasped, chuckling at his own joke.

I clenched my teeth and sat on the furthest seat away from him even though the plane was spacious. I wanted to take this time to sleep but Father had other plans. His stare never left me as he continued talking.

"You'll have to dress better than that once we go to meet the Americans," he prattled, pulling a loose thread from his brown suit.

I placed my head in my hand because I wanted to take the edge off father's incessant whining.

"Whatever you do, do not disrespect the Americans. If your husband... What's his name? Eric. What a stupid name. If he wants to have his way with you, you let him. Do you understand me?" he grunted awaiting an answer from me.

I hated talking back to him, and I hated being in the same space as him, but I nodded my head falsely. Did Father really not care about me? That he would allow his only daughter to be sold off, uncaring for whose hands I would be in.

I scoffed to myself because I knew the truth. If he hated me so much, he should have just killed me. Because I would kill him one day. And that day was coming soon.

Father leaped up from his seat and took a few menacing steps toward me. My stare did not waver from him. I knew what he was about to do but I still flinched when he grabbed my wrist roughly.

"Do you understand?" he growled as I tried to avoid inhaling his putrid breath.

"Yes, Father," I said through clenched teeth. I could poison him. But someone would know, they'd always know.

"Good," he said as he let go of my wrist and walked back to his seat. I breathed out slowly as I looked away from him.

***

After a long agonizingly long flight, we finally reached our destination. I couldn't sleep because he was there so I was tired as fuck. We got booked into a hotel and I collapsed onto the bed, feeling more love from the soft sheets than I ever would from my own father.

I wasn't surprised when my parents arranged a marriage for me. It was highly common. My own parents were arranged to marry and they had been together ever since, in a loveless marriage till death did them part. What a shitty way to live.

I was fucking angry about having to marry some girl. A fucking Italian girl to top it off. There was nothing wrong with Italian girls but she was in the mafia.

What would she even be like? Would our marriage be entirely loveless like my parents? Not that I cared, I would just tolerate her and have my way with other women behind her back, and I was sure she would do the same.

I wasn't even told of her name, what she looked like, or what she was like. But she was a woman. The boss of the Italian mafia. How could that be?

Women were weak and too emotional. She would be the destruction of the mafia. I chuckled at how the most fierce and depraved mafia in the world would fall at her hands. Everyone knew that only a man could run a mafia.

Perhaps she was put in charge because her father had no sons. But even then, that was quite irresponsible on his part. Still, I would have thought he would have passed it down to a man, regardless if he was blood or not.

My name was Eric Connall, the boss of the American mafia. At eighteen, I was handed the Mafia to control and to make it the most dominant in the world.

Now at twenty-five, I lived a lifestyle that involved drinking, drugs, and women. My mafia duties were not neglected, and I was known to be ruthless and unforgiving. People didn't dare cross my path because that was the last thing they would ever do.

That didn't mean I couldn't have fun. I glanced over at the redhead who was asleep in my bed. I didn't even know her name, and I didn't care. If I was getting married, I may as well have some enjoyment before I had to settle down in a miserable life. Fucking hell.

"You do know you are getting married, right?" My younger brother walked into my bedroom unannounced as he eyed me with a bored look.

Fuck, why would I care? It was not like I chose this woman, it was not like I wanted this and as a mafia boss I had a certain reputation to uphold: a bad reputation.

I scowled as I rubbed my eyes. "Get out, Sean!" I growled at him because his presence irritated me. More so because he was free to choose whomever he wanted to marry and I wasn't.

Why would my parents even agree to this? All because of some fucking alliance. Fucking hell, I could just take the Italian mafia if I wanted to.

The woman on my bed stirred and blinked her dark eyes wide open. For a second she looked petrified upon seeing Sean standing by the door. Then he looked towards me in hopes of some sort of comfort but I had none to offer.

"Leave," Sean ordered as he held the door open with a hand.

The woman quickly gathered her clothing and left the room in just her underwear. I groaned as I lay tangled in my bedsheets. The deep yellow glow of the sun threatened to spill into the room and did so when Sean kindly pulled open the curtains.

"Fuck!" I groaned as the light hit my pupils, waking me up entirely.

Sean smirked, running a hand through his dark hair, and rolled his shoulders. He was a fucking idiot half of the time but he was a decent man.

He was repulsed with the way women threw themselves at me and I let them, and how I used them for my own benefit and pleasure.

That was all I knew since father did the same to mother while mother pretended to be the virgin mother Mary when she really could give the devil a run for his money. And my dearest brother followed in my footsteps but he was more reserved.

"The Italian woman is coming tomorrow so clean up your act," Sean remarked as he eyed my messy bed, the corners of his lips twitching into a grimace.

"Who even let you in?" I asked as I sat up, frustrated with my lax security.

He grinned, showing his white teeth while he leaned against the wall, both hands in the pockets of his trousers. "I'm a likable person. Anyone would let me in." He smiled softly.

That was indeed true as his personality exuded friendliness, a trait I did not have. After all, a mafia was no place for weakness, and I had none.

Sean left the room a short while later after my ears bled listening to him drone on and on about being a good husband. I took a quick shower and got dressed in a pair of casual sweats and a shirt.

Heading to my gym, I took some time to run on the treadmill, to feel my body burn some energy. My house was big with four floors and had everything I could possibly want and need.

That was the luxury of being a powerful mafia boss. I worked hard to get what I had and no marriage was ever going to destroy that. No woman would ever destroy what I had built.

"How are you feeling about meeting the girl tomorrow?" Gabriel asked, his deep voice laced with a very subtle Italian accent.

I stopped running and looked toward my best friend and loyal guard. "I don't give a fuck," I said without hesitation. Why was she the hot topic on everyone's lips?

Gabriel looked almost disappointed, running a hand through his curly brown hair, his matching eyes glistening. "Would you at least try? You might find that you like her." He sighed.

Perhaps he knew something I didn't. I shook my head as I drank from a bottle, the water cooling me down. "Come on, you've known me for almost all of your life, and that's twenty fucking years. When have I ever liked women? They're nothing but a good fuck."

When I said those words Gabriel nodded subtly and rubbed the back of his neck. Perhaps I could settle down. But it would take one hell of a woman to convince me otherwise. I was not sure what to think. I liked the life I had already.

I walked over to a punching bag that was strung up and began to beat it mercilessly. My punches were controlled and accurate as I imagined breaking someone's jaw and cutting their air supply with a single sharp blow to their neck.

"Your parents are here," Gabriel said, rushing the words out as he watched my muscles stiffen.

"Who let them in?" I scowled as I flexed my hands.

"Your brother," he said, already knowing how pissed I was.

"That little shit!" I growled as I grabbed a white towel and wiped the sweat that covered my neck and forehead.

I made my way toward the living room not caring about the state I was in. My parents could be insufferable at times, and mother especially knew how to wind people up.

I saw my parents in the brightly lit up living room. Mother wore a white dress as she sat on the white sofa, her legs crossed, her back straight as a pole. Father smoked a cigar as he stood by the window. He was a tall dark man. He was also a decent father and man in general.

"Eric, darling." Mother smiled upon meeting my gaze. Her soft brown eyes met my dark-as-coal ones. She stood up and sat back down as she decided against embracing me.

I doubted she would want to ruin her expensive dress with her son's sweat despite not seeing me for several weeks now.

"Son," Father greeted as he continued smoking.

"What are you doing here?" I asked as I crossed my muscled arms.

Fuck, I was irritated. I couldn't spend the day alone. No,o the whole family had to come and laugh at my situation.

Father chuckled lowly, a husky deep sound while Mother's smile disappeared. She hated anyone talking back to her.

"We just wanted to see how you were feeling. You know about the whole marriage thing." Mother smiled, her blush pink lips stretched out into a thin line.

"You know how I feel?" I scoffed feeling very much amused. "I'm against it. I do not want to get married," I stated clearly.

Father walked towards me and stopped just a few feet away. "I do not care. You will marry the girl. Our reputation depends upon it. This alliance is the best thing to ever happen," Father growled deeply, his fingers gripping his cigar tighter. "So you will shut the fuck up and do as you're told. I didn't raise an insolent son or I will hand the mafia to your brother," he added.

He was clearly threatening me and his threats were never empty. Sean spluttered out his drink as he stood silently watching in the room.

"But I do not want it Father." He gulped and wiped his lips of alcohol with the back of his hand. I could tell he was shitting himself. He never wanted the mafia.

Father's nostrils flared out in a rage and if it was possible, I did not doubt that steam would be coming out of his ears right now. "If you do not marry the girl, you will take over, Sean. Or I will personally murder you both and give it to someone worthy. Perhaps even this Italian girl." He scoffed to himself.

I narrowed my eyes at my father. Surely he wouldn't. Sean nodded and took another sip of his drink. He held back his tongue because he knew it was pointless. I had no choice but to marry. This was my fucking mafia, not Sean's and not father's.

Father stared at me, awaiting an answer. I was not stupid so I knew that I had to reply to him. "Very well," I answered, agreeing to it.

Father smirked as he patted my shoulder. "That's my son."

Soon after, my parents both left to return to their home. I took a seat on the edge of the coffee table and gestured to Gabriel with my hand.

He handed me a cigarette which I lit up, using his lighter. I inhaled the bitter smoke as I attempted to calm my rage.

"I'm sorry," Sean said as he looked down at me, still from across the room.

But it was not his fault. My life was written the day I was born. A life of having everything and nothing. I reassured Sean that I would do the right thing. If not for his sake, for my Mafia's sake.

I had a hunger for power and that woman had power. I wondered if maybe one day I could slit her throat and take over her mafia. It would be rightfully mine after all since she would be mine after we got married.

That night I tossed and turned in my empty bed. Sleep did not want to find me. I was beyond agitated. Fuck, I did not want this. But it wasn't the worst thing I could think of. Maybe it would be all right. Just maybe.

Today was the day I finally got to meet the man who would own me, and as Father put it very eloquently, I would be his bitch apparently.

But I would rather stab out my own eyes and eat them than let someone own me. Who the fuck did these men think they were?

I scowled as I looked into the full-length mirror. My attire didn't reflect what I thought, not in the slightest. My body was covered in a tight-fitting red silk dress. It had a deep v-neck and full-length arms. I wanted to hide my sore wrist, thanks to Father.

The dress stopped at my naturally tanned thighs. Pairing the dress with red heels, I went for a simple look. Light makeup covered my face, and my dark hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail.

There was nothing more powerful than dressing up. It made men weak, and I made men weak. I pressed my lips together which were painted with red lipstick. The red blended well with my tan skin and icy blue eyes.

Cara entered my room after knocking. She eyed me and complimented my attire. I saw her fidgeting a lot more than usual and her eyes couldn't meet mine. Fuck, I felt like shit. Like meat on a platter.

I sighed. "It will be all right, Cara. I'll be fine," I reassured. I didn't know whether I was reassuring her or myself.

"Yes, I know, you'll be fine. You can handle yourself. I just wished you weren't forced to marry." Cara frowned as she fiddled with the gun in her pocket. I smiled as I looked at the floor.

"Your father is waiting for you," she spoke up as she held my bedroom door open for me.

"Well I'd better go to meet this Eric fucking Connall," I said with no emotion.

Entering the SUV, I inhaled deeply as I saw Father already seated inside. Why couldn't the bastard take another car? Fuck, he loved tormenting me.

I took my seat opposite him and crossed my legs in the spacious car. Father smoked a cigarette and I watched the grey ashes drop to the floor. Even after being told that the damage to his lungs was irreversible and he should ease up on smoking, Father smoked as if it were his last day on earth, and I actually wish it were.

His suit was grey like the ashes which matched his greying eyes. His face was aged and tired. I often wondered if I would end up the same. It was no secret that I smoked occasionally. There was also no harm in drinking every so often.

I always got told I got my looks from mother. Unfortunately, I didn't have even a picture of her. Father burnt everything Mother owned was burnt to ashes after her death. I was sure he wanted to burn me too.

After a few minutes of silence, Father spoke. There was no need to, yet he fucking opened his dirty mouth. "I am sorry to let my only daughter go." He looked at me, sneering.

I looked into his eyes unable to read anything. He was being sincere, and that was a first. He reached out and patted my hands which I kept on my lap. I scolded myself when I flinched at his cold touch. Fuck, when would this man even die?

Our SUV turned into a very upper-class area. The houses were not houses but mansions. They were also quite far apart from one another to allow privacy and to accommodate the large front lawns. The tall steel gates at the entrance of one mansion were promptly opened up and our car traveled towards the front door.

The warm air hit my face as I stepped out of the car but I still couldn't help but shudder. Cara walked behind me as did several other guards.

Father threw his cigarette to the ground and put it out. He was an uncaring vile creature. He led the way to the front door and I held my head up in an attempt to hide my anxiety.

Shit, I had never felt like this before. What the fuck was wrong with me? He was probably a bastard.

Upon knocking on the oak door, we were greeted by a petite brunette woman and a tall broad-shouldered man. Father smiled as he shook the man's hand. I was guessing those were the parents.

Father nodded toward me. "This is my daughter, Sienna Zannotti. She runs the Italian mafia."

They didn't hear the spite in his words but I did. Suddenly, all eyes were on me. Father didn't introduce himself which made me believe that he knew these people. The woman smiled as she looked me over.

Her husband was the first to speak. "Hello Sienna, I am Arthur Connall and this is my wife, Martha," he introduced as he slightly lowered his rough voice.

He placed an arm around Martha's waist and I didn't miss the subtle way Martha's first instinct was to pull away.

I offered a small smile as I kept my mouth shut. I saw a young man leaning against the wall behind Arthur and Martha. His posture indicated his reluctance of being here, and I eyed him as he walked over to the door.

He held out a hand and smiled, seeming quite friendly. "Hello, Miss Zannotti, I am Sean Connall." I shook his hand as I admired the various rings he wore.

"Hello," I replied simply...

"This is my youngest son, Sean, he is twenty-one. The elder is your fiancé," Arthur said as he watched me.

Fiancé. The foreign word danced through my mind and shocked me once more as I realized my fate. Fuck, I wanted to run but I couldn't.

I smiled politely again and Arthur led us all inside to a dining room. They must have been thinking that I was shy or quiet but I didn't care. They would soon find out about me and my big mouth which spoke the truth.

The room was large and beautifully decorated. We were served dinner on china plates and had a selection of three different vintage wines to drink. I only drank a glass as I needed to stay sharp, this wasn't the time or place to get drunk.

Father was in the midst of a dull conversation with Arthur and Martha. I somehow felt disappointed that Eric was nowhere to be seen. This was his house, after all, and he couldn't be bothered to attend dinner with guests.

For all, I knew he could be hiding upstairs like the idiot he was. At least, I found out that he was only twenty-five, and judging by what his brother looked like, he should be decent enough.

I looked over at Sean whom I enjoyed talking to this evening. His dark hair was long and neatly combed back although it was getting beautifully messier as time progressed.

He had a sharp jawline and was neatly shaven. His dark brows and eyes held a certain boyish charm. Sean seemed to smile an awful lot and it suited him.

"My brother is not a bad guy but he can be an idiot at times. I do apologize on his behalf," Sean said as he sipped his wine.

I smiled at his honesty. "I am just disappointed he didn't even show up for this dinner." I licked my lips now, feeling less anxious.

"I will find him and make him clean up his act. Because you Sienna will be the best thing to ever happen to him." He nodded his head knowingly and I smirked.

"You know how to make a girl blush. Tell me do you have a girlfriend or wife?" I asked him.

He smiled lazily and used a napkin to wipe his mouth. "None, unfortunately."

I dropped my fork as I tilted my head at him. "Why not?" I asked. He seemed like a very nice young man. Women would be foolish to let him escape.

He chuckled and Martha turned to look at us with a scowl etched on her face. She soon turned away. I don't know what that bitch's problem was, but she had one with me. "Can't find that one special woman for me. I can tell you'll like Eric. You two have a lot in common." He smiled.

I stifled a yawn as I used a hand to cover my mouth. "How so?" I asked.

He smiled, his dark eyes shining. "You'll see... Remember Sienna, If he acts like a dick, tell me and I'll fuck him right up."

"You don't think I can handle myself?" I chuckled and he hummed.

"I think you can. But I'd like to fuck him up regardless."

Once dinner ended, Father went for drinks with Arthur and Martha, and I was glad I'd be rid of him in the meantime.

Instead, I went for a quiet walk on the grounds of the house. I was accompanied by Cara who stayed at my side. My heels crunched on the gravel path as I walked.

"The parents seemed nice and the son too," Cara noted.

"There was something off about them. Sean was genuine but the parents, I can't figure them out," I said as Cara hummed in agreement. There was always something.

I took a seat on a bench that faced a beautiful water fountain. I watched the water spill out from a beautiful fountain head into a pool below. The water shimmered white and reflected the full moon.

I stared aimlessly as I got lost in thought. I had a shit ton of work I needed to do. And here I sat, wasting time. Eric didn't even show up. Perhaps he felt the same as I did. Of course, he did.

Just then a husky voice spoke up, breaking the silence. "I'm here to see my fiancée."

The bastard, I thought, snapping out of my daze and turned to see Cara with her gun pointed at a man.

"It's okay," I said and Cara lowered her gun.

A tall well-built man walked over and took a seat beside me. As soon as he did, I smelt his musky aftershave with a mix of cigarette smoke.

I glanced quickly at him. He was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. His dark hair was brushed although it remained unruly and some wisps of hair strayed.

I wonder how soft that would feel if I ran my hand through it. His sharp jaws were covered in neat stubble and I could get lost in his dark eyes. And those kissable lips.

Fuck get a grip, Sienna! I ordered myself.

"I'm Eric Connall. I do apologize for not attending dinner, princess," he said and gazed at me.

I stiffened. "Don't call me that!" I snapped, my jaws going rigid.

His eyes darted elsewhere before they rested on me again. "Well, what should I call you?" he asked, reaching into his pocket and taking out a cigarette. He lit it and began smoking.

Now I could see it: how he carried himself, how he spoke. He was a mafia boss through and through.

"I'm Sienna," I said straight-faced.

"Sienna..." He tested my name on his tongue. The moonlight hit his eyes, making them sparkle even more so.

He leaned towards me slightly. "That's a pretty name for such a beautiful lady," he whispered close to my ear. I felt his hot breath fan my skin, the hairs on my neck rising. Any other girl would have found that to be seductive but I didn't.

"Would you like one?" he asked as he held out his cigarette and I shook my head.

"No."

He chuckled and the sound sent tingles to the pit of my stomach. "Are you a virtuous girl?" he asked.

The fuck?

"What the fuck? Let's get one thing straight. I didn't get to where I am by being a good girl. This marriage is nothing more than an alliance on paper. Don't expect me to be some kind of housewife. I will talk back and I will not hesitate to fuck you up if you act indecently!" I growled lowly as my face remained stoic.

He blew his cigarette between his lips and put it out by tossing it to the ground. He didn't seem to be affected at all by what I said or he didn't show it. He turned to face me, only looking at my face, and hummed. "I like you."

I furrowed my eyebrows. What was I supposed to say to that?

He reached out and tried to place his hand on my thigh. I said tried because I grabbed a hold of his hand tightly, instantly twisting back, a move I learned from a young age.

He hardly flinched or even showed an ounce of pain. Instead, he smirked. The fucker smirked, and God, he looked so devilishly handsome. I let go of his hand, pushing away the feeling of the tingles I felt when our hands touched.

I observed him as he ran a hand through his hair. He certainly knew what boundaries were. "Sorry about that. I just wanted to see how you would react," he apologized casually.

I narrowed my eyes as I pushed back my hair which fluttered forward in the gentle breeze. "My reaction?" I scoffed. "I would have cut your hand off."

"Good answer," he hummed once more.

I looked at him again. "What would you do if I touched you?" I asked.

Oh fuck! My big fucking mouth.

He grinned, showcasing his perfectly white teeth. "I'd let you," he breathed.

I felt my cheeks burn up as I hoped the blush I wore couldn't be seen, then I chuckled. "Fuck, I should have seen that coming."

He chuckled as he stood up and cracked his neck. He held out an arm for me. I stood up and refused his arm by walking away from him and towards the house.

I also noticed his fine-looking guard who accompanied him. I also didn't miss how Cara's eyes lingered on him for a second too long.

I heard footsteps behind me as we all made our way inside. Upon entering the house, Father wanted to leave so we said our goodbyes and left.

Father sat in the same car as me this time too. "What do you think of him?" he asked.

"Why do you care?" I scoffed.

Fuck. I was in urgent need of sleep and I fucking couldn't stand the man. Fuck, I knew what was coming.

Father quickly reached forward and slapped me across the cheek, and I let him. The pain was nothing to me. If I fought back, the aftermath would be disastrous.

The piece of shit talked once more. "Do not speak to me like that. I am your father. You should respect me."

I looked across at him. "Forgive me. I'm just very tired... I like him, he seems decent." I looked down at my hands.

Father laughed hysterically at me. "Him decent? You really are a stupid whore. He didn't get to where he is by being decent," he mocked, his belly full of laughter.

I looked away and wished I was anywhere but here. Soon enough we arrived at a hotel: a standard five-star. We got booked in and I took in the luxurious sight of the penthouse suit I would be sleeping in for the next two days.

In two days the wedding was to happen. Two fucking days. I felt my heart race as the thought of running away crossed my mind again. Would I rather be free and not forced to marry? No, I'd be a fucking coward. I'd rather die fighting for my mafia than be known as a coward.

I lay on the bed after I changed into comfortable clothing. I glanced at the time on my phone before tossing it onto the armchair beside the bed. It was just past midnight and I was wide awake.

"Well, what did you think about him?" Cara asked me as she entered the room, knowing I wouldn't be able to sleep.

Several guards were posted outside my door as usual. I smiled as I patted the space beside me, and she walked over and sat down...

"He's a bastard just like all men are," I said as I looked up at the white ceiling.

"I saw you blush, Sienna. No man has ever done that to you. I have a good feeling about him and I can read people pretty well."

I hummed. "What about you and his guard?" I looked at her but she didn't meet my eyes.

"I knew it! You find him attractive." I grinned. I could see why. He was really handsome in a laid-back sort of way.

She smiled as she tried to brush it off by picking at invisible specks of dust on the bed. I rolled over to my side so I was facing her before speaking.

"Truthfully, he is a fine-looking man. I'd have fucked him if he wasn't... Well... you know. It's too complicated." I pursed my lips.

She smirked as she looked at her bare nails. "It's not complicated at all. You will be legally married soon so by all means fuck him."

"It's a matter of principle, Cara," I said as I ran my fingers up and down the bedsheet.

She nodded unconvincingly. "I truly want the best for you Sienna so at least try with him. Don't push him away."