Mafia Bride

LUCA.

"Is this a joke?!" I snap at the man sitting on the leather arm chest with an expressionless face, as if he hasn't just told me to ruin my life. "After everything? Now you mention your old pact?! What do you take me for?!"

"I take you to be my son who would do anything to ensure that our family remains at the top," he responds.

"You are asking me to throw my life away! To marry a woman I have never even met!" I snap back.

"I am asking you to ensure the continuity of two bloodlines, ensuring that the power of the Romano family, our family, will not dwindle. Listen, Luca. Rocco, is an old friend of mine, we built this town and our empires side by side. It is unfortunate that he has only been blessed with a daughter but that has worked in our favor! He has promised to hand over his entire fortune to her on her wedding day, to you, to our family? Do you have any idea what that means?!"

"Dammit!" I snarl as I whirl around. "And fuck you for doing this to me," I say again as I turn back to him, anger flooding through my veins. "Now of all days. You could have told me about this when I was busy proving myself to you all these years,you could have prepared me!"

"It didn't seem to be the right time."

"Didn't seem to be - Fuck! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Fuck you!" I snap as I whirl away, slamming the door behind me.

Unbelievable.

Just unbelievable.

I had done everything.

Every bloody thing he had asked.

I had infiltrated our rival family from the ground up, despite how risky it was I did it.

I crippled them.

Go to another country and set up a fraudulent scheme.

No worries.

Train in one of the most deadly assassin's sects for three years?

No problem.

On and on it went, for eighteen years I have carried out impossible trials and instructions and succeeded at everything.

All so that I can be worthy to one day step in his shoes, first becoming the consigliere and then the Don.

And now, today that should be one of celebrating my promotion, he tells me I have one final instruction.

To get married.

And not just to any woman, no, to the daughter of Rocco Bertelli, a girl that is rumored to have absolutely no inclinations or sympathies with the Mafia world.

"How the hell am I supposed to convince her?" I snarl to myself as I walk into the hall only to be startled by a champagne cork nearly taking off my head.

I am still catching myself when the deafening cheers of the crowd reaches my ears.

Right.

This is a celebration night.

"Congratulations, Luca!" Enzo, my close friend and right hand man, cheers as he pats me on the back. "Now, Signore(Mr.) Romano won't have any reason to delay you any further."

I scoff as I reach for a champagne flute.

"You would think so," I mutter as I gulp the contents down all at once.

"Oh no," he says as he takes in my countenance. "What did he say this time? I mean, you were brilliant! Playing the French government like that and leaving them no recourse but to let you go is a sign of pure genius, surely even he has to admit that."

"Oh, he admitted it alright," I reply as I turn to face him."Then what is the issue?" "The issue is that now, I am to get married."

"Shit," he says in a wince. "To who?"

"Isabella Bertelli."

"Bertelli... Bertelli... Rocco Bertelli?!" he exclaims before reducing his voice at the curious looks thrown our way. "Rocco Bertelli?" he asks again.

"Si."

"Hmm, that is not so bad but isn't she all the way in the USA? I heard a rumor that she had a fight with Rocco about his affiliations and left, swearing to never return."

"The very same."

"Maledetto!" he curses as he turns in agitation. "What about Giulia?"

"Giulia," I whisper in despair before giving in and reaching for another drink. A brandy this time.

Giulia has been a rock to me all these years. She as well as Enzo have been by mode all through it, supporting me, helping me... we are a team.

She is strong, smart, vicious, everything you would want in a Mafia wife.

So, it had made perfect sense for me to ask her out.

A fact that my father knew and still said nothing about.

If he knew about Rocco's condition, if he knew he wanted me to end up with Isabella, why didn't he say anything?

Why wait till now?

How am I supposed to break this to Giulia?

How can I look her in the eye and tell her that I am going to have to marry someone else.

For the family.

The same family that she had sacrificed for, had given the best of her life to.

How do I betray her like that?

"Maybe you can refuse," Enzo says after some minutes of silence. "You don't need the Bertelli fortune, you can take us to greater heights without them."

"Actually, I can't."

"What do you mean? You are the consigliere."

"According to my father, I am not. Not until I have tied the knot with Isabella."

"No offense, Luca. But your father is an asshole."

"I agree."

"So, what now? What is our play? Are you going to talk to Giulia?"

"No. Not now at least. Not before I talk to Rocco first."

"What do you plan on doing?" he asks as he falls in step with me.

"I don't know. But I am going to try to get out of this... unwanted ultimatum. If he agrees, then father can get off my case."

"What are the chances he will give in?"

"Slim to none."

"Hmm, that has never stopped you from achieving your goals before."

"No, it hasn't."

ISABELLA .

Tenuta Lucestra.

My childhood home.

As I stand at the entrance looking up at the high gates I can't help but remember the last time I was here.

FLASHBACK.

"I said no!" I scream at my father. "I will not be a part of your blood business!"

"That blood business as to so aptly call it has provided for you and all your expenses. How do you think you were able to attend all those prestigious art schools? Get all those connections?! It is this family, this business that has opened those doors for you!" he screams back at me.

"You could have done it in a legal way! Why? Why do you have to be a criminal?!"

"Everyone is a criminal! Even the ones you think are honest. No one is honest, no is as clean as you like to think, not if you want to make it in this world, not if you never want to worry about anything!"

"Really?!" I snap. "Never worry about anything, huh? Can you confidently say that you are at peace? That all those guards are not trained assassin's sworn to protect us from the enemies you made! If you worry about our safety, it is because you put us in this situation!"

"Bella!" my mother snaps at me as she gets in between me and my father. "Apologize to your father, right now. You have no idea what he has sacrificed for us."

"Well I don't want it!I don't want to be involved in the Mafia. I will not."

"If you can not make sacrifices for your family then you are not a member of it anymore," he says to me.

"Rocco, no," my mother gasps as she grabs his hand. "She is your daughter!"

"And you heard her, she wants nothing to do with us. Get out of my house, do not return until you have your head screwed on straight."

"Fine, I won't," I reply as I whirl around in anger.

PRESENT.

That was the last time I saw my father.

Numbness is all I feel as I walk through the lush gardens of the estate. Towering trees and long green lawns winding through the pathways of the estate.

Tenutra Lucestra meaning radiant estate is fitting for this sprawling estate that basks in the golden rays of the setting sun.

The gravel pathway is lined with towering cypress trees that reach towards the sky, meticulously manicured gardens, where vibrant flowers bloom in a mosaic of colors, filling the air with perfumed scents of jasmine and lavender.

A few turns ahead is the estate's vineyards that stretch out far beyond the gardens, rows upon rows of grapevines promising a bountiful and tasty harvest before eventually arriving at the mansion.

My father's taste in grandeur is undeniable especially in his crowning jewel, the mansion. With large, arched windows that offer a glimpse into the opulence inside to the ornate wrought iron details of the balconies, and as I look up, I see the elegant frescoes that decorate the exterior walls while the mansion's walls are a warm, sun-kissed ochre, complemented by terracotta roof tiles that seem to glow in the light.

I don't know how long I stand there, just staring at the mansion and only being brought out of my reminiscing by the high mahogany doors opening.

"Bella," my mother's quiet voice calls out tentatively as she comes out and sees me, dressed completely in black.

"Mama," I call quietly, afraid to approach her, not after the way I had left.

"Oh, Mia Bella," she croons as she opens her hands out to me.

"Mama," I cry out as I rush into them. "I am sorry. So sorry."

"it is alright my love. It is alright."

"But it is not," I insist. "He thought... he thought I hated him... the way I left... I didn't mean to... I didn't know..."

"No one ever knows my love, that is how life usually is."

"How... how did he..."

"It was Carla who found him in his study," she says as she gently leads me into the house. "She thought he was asleep at first and only came to find me when she saw the blood."

"Who is Carla?" I ask.

"Ah, the new house keeper."

"What happened to Julia?"

"She left. She couldn't handle..."

"I see."

As we approach the living room, I can hear the low din of chatter coming from the door.

Sympathizers, friends and rivals all present to pay respects to my father.

"Are there any suspects?" I ask, evading the curious stares as we wind our way to the front, where his coffin is laid out.

"Many, but nothing concrete. Your father made a lot of enemies in his life."

I say nothing to that. There is no point, after all.

We arrive at the raised podium where his coffin is placed, surrounded by bouquets of exquisite flowers.

"Papa," I whisper brokenly as I look down on him.

It is true, I was angry and disgusted at his business and yes, I said some really cruel things, but I never hated him.

I was just... angry.

And now it is too late.

He is gone and I can't apologize anymore.

I will never see him anymore, nor speak to him, nor see his warm smile or hear his laughter.

He really is gone.

I don't realize when I crumble to the floor, the numbness wears off as the pain tears through me.

Heart break.

The gut wrenching kind.

"I am sorry. I am so sorry," I weep only coming to reality when I feel my mother's arms come around me.

"Bella," she calls softly. "Come on, on your feet, come on, mija."

She pulls me up to my feet and begins leading me away when we are blocked by an imposing stature.

"Madonna, Donna, my deepest condolences on your loss," the man says.

We Italians are naturally beautiful people, but there are some that look like they were specially crafted by God.

The man before us has olive-toned skin with dark, curly hair and a well groomed beard. Standing at about 6 feet tall, he has a broad-shouldered, athletic build. His eyes are a deep brown, like pools of warm cocoa that just pulls me in.

"Signore Romano, thank you for coming," my mother responds with a graceful nod.

"Please, Signore Romano is my father, you can call me Luca."

Alarm bells go off in my head at his words.

See, in order for me not to like the Mafia, I must have been at least be familiar with them and their...intricacies.

And I know for certain that the Mafia don't forgo titles except if they are friends, family or are aiming to be both.

This man wants something and I will be damned if I let him take advantage of my mother.

Pushing back my grief, I straighten my back as I look him dead in the eye.

"Romano," I remark. "The name is familiar."

"I would hope so, your father and mine are... were close friends," he says.

"Where they now?"

"Bella," my mother calls in an admonishing tone. "Luca is right. His father and yours built their fortune together."

Translation, they were both in a gang and clawed their way up while making deals with each other.

Great.

"You want something," I say, not wavering as I look him in the eye. "What is it?"

Rather than answering me he glances at my mother and I watch a strange look pass between them.

"Mother?" I ask.

"Come," she says as she begins leading me away, this time Luca following behind us. "We will discuss this in the study."

"Discuss what?" I demand.

"In the study."

I hold my peace as we pass through the milling guests, past the corridors and into a dark room.

As my mother turns on the lamp, my eyes go to the leather chair, where she said papa was found.

Bleeding.

Someone killed him.

And is walking around scott free.

The thought feels me with mad rage, something I didn't think I was capable of.

"Bella, there is... something you should know," my mother begins, bringing my attention to her. "Before your father died, he and Signore Romano, Lucas' father, had made... an arrangement. One that involves you."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"What... deal?"

"You have to understand, mija, it was the best choice for the family and for you. Your father just wanted you to be taken care of."

"What, deal!"

"A marriage deal," Luca says, speaking up for the first time since he came in here. "Between you and me."

"Excuse me?"

"We don't really have much of a choice in the matter, you see. Everything has been finalized. From what your mother told me, it is even stipulated in the will. You and I are to be married before the month runs out."

I stare at him for a few seconds before looking at my mother.

"What the hell?!*

ISABELLA

The bells of the church echo as people stroll into its buildings, announcing the start of a new hour.

To me, it sounds like a death knell, announcing someone's death.

My death.

A week ago, I had come back to Italy to mourn and bury my father, and now, I am dressed in a wedding gown about to get married to a man I barely know.

Scratch that.

To a man I do not know.

I want to scream, to cry, to smash something but I can't.

Because I know, as messed up and disturbing as this is, it is what my father wanted.

To protect me.

He had said as much in the recorded video he had left for me.

FLASHBACK.

"This is a record filmed by the Signore and given to me for safe keeping," Massimo, his consigliere , said as he pressed a button on the remote, revealing my father's very much alive face on the screen. "I can assure you, on my word and honor, it has not been tampered or doctored in any way."

"My Bella," my father's deep voice plays out as he looks into the camera. "If you are seeing this, it can only mean one thing. That I am dead. I am sorry that this is how we see for the last time, I had no desire to stop you from pursuing your dreams nor did I want to drag you back home.

"First things first, I am not angry at you. You are my beautiful Isabella, my joy, my light. And whatever fire and spark and stubbornness you have, I can only hold myself and your mother to blame. You have my fire, it only makes sense that we would crash. So, baby, I forgive you. Do not blame yourself , do not punish yourself, know that in my last moments, my thoughts were of you and how proud I am of the woman you have become."

By this time, I am already a blubbering mess, tears pouring down my face as deep sobs wrack my chest.

His words are a balm to my soul, one I desperately needed to hear and which he had offered willingly without hesitation.

"Now to business," he continues. "I have lived a long, full and interesting life and have accumulated much wealth and power. With that comes enemies, one's I know that I won't be able to protect you and your mother from once I am gone, which is why I have come to an agreement with my dear friend, Giovanni Romano.

"We got into this world together and he is the one I can safely entrust my family to, legacy and wealth too. In exchange for watching over you and your mother, his son will have to marry you. Bella, I beg of you, do me this favor and agree. I know, I now, you will chafe at this but I would very much like to go to the grave knowing I have done all I could.

"Luca is a good man. A strong, disciplined man, one who would do right by you. There might be no love in this marriage, but I hope there will be at least trust and mutual respect between you too. Do this for me, for your mother, for our family. If not for anything, do it out of duty, as the last thing, I, your father asks of you. I love you, my Bella, take care of yourself. And your mother."

PRESENT DAY.

What choice did I have but to accept?

Marry Luca, it is the very last thing he asked.

And not for his sake but for ours.

Mother and I.

So, here I am. Dressed in the most exquisite and expensive gown I have ever worn.

The gown is a masterpiece of lace and silk that glimmers under the soft glow of the fluorescent lights.

The bodice is fitted with delicate lace appliqués, hugs my curves like a second skin, while a sweetheart neckline adds a touch of sensuality.

The intricate beading, shimmers like scattered diamonds, traced with intricate patterns across the bodice, catching the light with every movement I make.

The skirt cascades down in luxurious layers of silk, chiffon and tulle, flowing around me in a dreamy cloud of fabric. At the back, a trail of buttons runs down the spine, leading to a dramatic train that sweeps behind me like a regal cape, with the finishing touches of lace edged scallops that frames the hem, adding a final flourish of exquisite detail to the gown.

The gown alone can buy a small country.

"All this for a man I barely know," I mutter as I look into the mirror.

A few days after the recording show, Luca had shown up at my house with a bouquet of roses to discuss the marriage.

Well, the discussion was more with my mother than me. I just watched him.

The man I would soon callmy husband.

Not too long after he had left with a small peck on my cheeks, not a word exchanged between us.

I quite liked it that way but as my mother pointed out it would not be ideal.

"The two of you are going to be living in the same house for the rest of your life," she had said.

"I suggest you find a common ground and build on it." I agree.

We can't be strangers to each other.

Not when I still need his help.

Lost in thought, I didn't hear the knocks on the door until it pushes open.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

I watch as Luca enters the suite, his face blank as he catches sight of me. "It is bad luck to see the bride before the wedding," I say in a deadpan tone.

"This isn't a traditional wedding," he responds. "I don't think we would be affected."

"I suppose so," I say as I turn to head over to a chair.

Taking my seat, I ask.

"The wedding will soon start, why are you here?"

"We haven't really had a chance to discuss or talk. Just you and I," he says as he takes his own seat.

"What is there to talk about? Like you said at the funeral, our fathers have made the decision for us, we have no choice but to comply."

"True, but I was hoping we could at least have a friendship between us."

"Friendship?"

"Yes, if not for anything but a peaceful marriage."

"Hmm, tell me, Luca. Did you have a woman before me?"

"What?"

"Don't be surprised. I did. A man, not a woman. It wasn't serious but I liked him. And now I am marrying you."

"What are you saying?"

"I am saying that you are not the only one making sacrifices here. I know I am not your first choice and frankly, neither are you. I don't like violence, I don't like blood. But I am marrying because of my father. Beachside of duty. So don't do that thing where you say you in a martyr kind of way, that we can at least be friends. We don't have to be friends. I don't want to be friends . I just want one thing from you. You do that and I will be the perfect wife."

"Which is?"

"Help me find out who killed my father."