The Bargain Bride

"Who did this to you?!" Gabriel Russo's voice was thick with anger as he asked the question. His dark eyes burned as they roamed over the bruises covering his cousin's delicate face and body.

Diana sat on the edge of the couch, her body trembling. Her right eye was swollen shut, her lip split, and tears streaked down her face. She shook her head, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Who the fuck did this to you Diana?!" Gabriel growled, slamming his fist into the coffee table in front of them making Diana flinch in fear.

Her sobs grew louder as she tried to speak, her voice breaking. "No one...I...I fell."

"You fell? Do I look like I was born yesterday!!" Gabriel bellowed. "Who the fuck did this!!"

Diana burst into fresh tears. "It was Rodney...Rodney Vazquez."

Gabriel stilled, his towering presence now calm. The name echoed in his mind.

"Vazquez?" He asked his voice dropping to a cold, dangerous murmur.

Diana nodded, her hands twisting the hem of her shirt. "That's why I didn't want to tell you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want you to start a war over nothing."

Gabriel's expression darkened further. He leaned in closer, his voice now menacing. "Over nothing?"

Diana shut her mouth, her lips quivering.

"Did he rape you?" Gabriel demanded, though a part of him dreaded the answer.

Another round of fresh tears streamed down her face as she tried to look away, but her silence spoke volumes. It was enough to make his insides twist.

"No living man dares touch a member of the Russo family like this and thinks he'll get away with it," he growled.

"Gabriel, please don't do anything rash," Diana pleaded, her tone desperate.

But he had already turned away, dismissing her words. His eyes searched for Javier, his most trusted right-hand man, who had been standing silently by the door, waiting for orders.

"Get the men ready. We're paying a visit to the Vazquez estate," Gabriel ordered, his tone hard as steel.

Javier nodded, his jaw tight. "Consider it done. Sir."

"Please, Gabriel... don't do this." Diana cried grabbing Gabriel's hand.

But he didn't even look at her. His jaw clenched, his fists tight at his sides.

This was a matter of honor and respect. Both things Rodney Vasquez had disregarded. And he would pay with his life for touching his cousin.

---

"I can't keep tending to your wounds every week, Rodney," Amelia Vasquez muttered as she dabbed antiseptic onto the deep scratches beside her brother's eye. Her movements were firm but careful, her frustration evident in every swipe of the cotton wool.

Rodney winced, sucking in a sharp breath as the antiseptic burned against his skin. "This time, it wasn't my fault," he protested, his tone defensive.

"It's never your fault," Amelia replied with a sarcastic tone, rolling her eyes. She pressed a small bandage over the scratches, smoothing it down like she had done a thousand times before.

"You have to believe me," Rodney insisted, his expression sincere. "This particular bitch was insane. She didn't want to leave me alone. No matter how hard I tried to push her away, she kept coming back. Like... she was obsessed with me or something."

Amelia snorted, unable to keep the disbelief off her face. "Sure she was. Completely obsessed with the jaw-dropping playboy Rodney Vasquez," she teased.

"I'm being serious, sis," Rodney grumbled, frowning at her. "She was literally crazy."

"I don't care about your wild adventures, Rodney," Amelia shot back, her tone growing sharper. "I just hate cleaning up after you and making excuses to Dad. You need to start acting more mature." She said, the same lecture she gave him every time he came home with another mess for her to fix.

Rodney stayed silent, his jaw tightening as he looked away.

Amelia sighed, her frustration fading as a small sting of guilt crept in. Maybe she had been too harsh. She was about to soften her tone when a sudden commotion outside caught her attention.

Frowning, she straightened and turned toward the window, her sharp ears picking up raised voices.

"Did you hear that?" she asked.

Rodney stood up, walking past her to look out the window. "What the hell?" he murmured with a frown.

The muffled sounds of shouting grew louder, and Amelia's stomach tightened with dread. Something was wrong.

Before the thought could fully register, the sharp crack of a gunshot rang out.

Amelia froze, her breath hitching.

Rodney's immediately sprang into action. "Stay here!" he barked, his voice firm and urgent. Without waiting for a reply, he bolted toward the entrance, his hand reaching for the gun tucked at his waist.

"And where do you think you're going?" a deep voice called from the staircase.

Amelia and Rodney looked up.

Paul Vasquez, their father, descended with his usual air of authority. A cane in one hand and a steely expression on his face, he was flanked by three of his men. He looked terribly unbothered, as if gunshots were just another inconvenience in his day.

"What's going on?" Rodney asked, his grip tightening on his gun as he turned toward his father. "Who's outside, Dad?"

Paul didn't break stride as he replied, his tone steady and cold. "Gabriel Russo."

Rodney frowned. "Gabriel Russo? What the hell could he possibly want?"

"It seems," Paul said, his voice calm but loaded with meaning, "that he wants an audience with me. So, I'd better go out and see him before he decides to invite himself in."

Despite the tense situation, Paul remained unshaken. He adjusted his coat with deliberate slowness before walking to the front door, his men falling into step behind him without needing instruction. It was as though this kind of confrontation was routine for him.

Rodney hesitated, glancing back at Amelia, who had a worried expression on her face. "Stay here," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Amelia wanted to protest, but she knew better than to push Rodney's temper or upset her father. Her heart raced as she watched them both walk out of the entrance.

"I see I got your attention," Gabriel said, pushing himself off his sleek black car and stalking closer to the entrance of the Vasquez estate. His movements were slow and deliberate, his piercing grey eyes fixed on Paul, who stood surrounded by his men.

"Well, it's pretty hard to ignore gunshots this early in the morning, don't you think?" Paul replied calmly, not a single hint of fear in his voice. "I'm guessing you didn't come here for tea and small talk. So, why are you here, creating such a scene and breaking the years long truce I have with your father?"

Gabriel's jaw tightened, his anger barely contained. "I'm here to cause a fucking bloodbath," he growled.

As if on cue, his men stepped forward in unison, their guns raised and pointed at Paul and his men. The cold clicks of loaded guns filled the already tense air. Gabriel's anger grew as Paul's calm demeanor remained intact, even in the face of death.

"I see," Paul said, still unbothered, his expression unreadable. "And may I ask why you're so eager to spill blood this fine morning?"

"Don't mess with me, old man," Gabriel warned, his voice dropping to a deadly murmur. "You'll find I'm not in the mood. You have two options-either you give me your son's fucking head on a pike, or I kill all of you right here, right now."

At the mention of his son, Paul turned to Rodney, his expression sharp and questioning. "What the hell did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Rodney snapped, his tone defensive but his eyes darting nervously.

Paul studied him for a moment, then turned his attention back to Gabriel. "And what if I don't agree with either of those options?" he asked, his voice steady and cold.

In response, Paul's men mirrored Gabriel's, raising their guns in sync. The air grew thicker with tension as the standoff reached its boiling point.

"Then I guess we'll have a fucking bloodbath after all," Gabriel snarled, his voice filled with venom.

The two men stared each other down, neither willing to back down.

The tension was suffocating.

"You should at least tell us the offense before you kill an old man in his own home," Paul said, his voice calm. "Didn't your father teach you anything?"

"Didn't you teach your son anything?" Gabriel shot back angrily. "He thinks he can lay his hands on my cousin and get away with it? He thinks he can sexually assault her and run free just because you're his father? Well, he thought wrong. I'm not leaving here until I get my vengeance. And that means me castrating the fucker myself."

Paul's calm facade finally cracked, and his anger flashed for the first time. His jaw clenched, his grip on his cane tightening as he processed Gabriel's words. Once again, his idiotic son had made things difficult for him. Paul knew the unspoken code among men like them-vengeance for a justified grievance was allowed, even expected. But no matter what his son had done, there was no way in hell he was letting anything happen to Rodney.

"I didn't touch your cousin!" Rodney suddenly yelled, his voice cutting through the air. His face was red with anger as he stepped closer, pointing a finger at Gabriel. "I didn't even know she was your cousin! She's fucking sick in the head, and I swear I didn't do anything to her!"

Gabriel's eyes snapped to Rodney, the intensity of his gaze causing the younger man to step back slightly. "Watch your mouth," Gabriel growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You're lucky I'm even letting you speak right now. If you so much as lie again, I'll make sure the next words out of your mouth are screams."

Paul placed a hand on Rodney's chest, halting him before he could dig a deeper grave. "Let's not escalate this further," Paul said, his voice calm again, but his eyes darted to Gabriel. "I assume you have proof of your accusations?"

Gabriel sneered. "I don't need proof when I have her bruises, her tears, and her fucking word. That's more than enough for me." He stepped closer to Paul, his men tightening their formation as he did. "But if you want more, I'll gladly show you every damn scar your son left on her body before I take his."

Paul's men stiffened, their hands hovering over their guns. Gabriel's men mirrored the movement, and it was clear to everyone that the standoff was one wrong word away from exploding into chaos.

Paul sighed, his hand tightening on his cane. "He's my only son. You must understand that I cannot accept your terms."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "I Wasn't asking for your permission, old man."

Before anyone could react, Gabriel pulled out his own gun and pointed it directly at Rodney.

Rodney froze.

"Gabriel, don't," Paul said, his voice carrying a note of warning, but his men instinctively raised their guns, fingers twitching on the triggers.

Gabriel's men didn't hesitate to respond in kind, their guns locked on Paul's group. If Gabriel pulled the trigger, Paul's men would retaliate, and Gabriel's men would fire back. It would be a massacre-one that no one would recover from.

Rodney swallowed hard, his bravado replaced by visible fear. "I swear I didn't touch her!" he stammered, his voice cracking.

Gabriel's grip on the gun tightened, his finger hovering over the trigger. "You think I care what you swear?" he growled.

Before the tension could escalate any further, the sound of the door bursting open distracted them all.

"Stop!"

Amelia's voice rang out, clear and commanding, as she pushed through the gathered men and rushed to stand between her brother and Gabriel's gun. Her face was pale, but her eyes were fierce, a mixture of defiance and desperation burning in them.

"What the hell are you doing, Amelia?!" Rodney snapped, his voice filled with panic.

Ignoring him, Amelia raised her chin and met Gabriel's cold, furious gaze. "If you're going to shoot him, you'll have to shoot me first," she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands.

Gabriel's brow furrowed, his gun lowering just a fraction as he studied her. "And who the hell are you supposed to be?"

"I'm his sister," Amelia said firmly. "And I'm not letting you kill him without hearing him out. If he's guilty, fine. But if he's not, this bloodbath will be on your hands, not his."

Her words hung in the air, daring Gabriel to make the next move.

Gabriel smirked, a sharp, cruel twist of his lips, as his piercing eyes roved over Amelia. The defiance in her gaze intrigued him, her small act of courage a stark contrast to her brother's spineless pleas. He lowered his gun slightly, letting the tension in the air ease-but only for a moment.

"You've got guts," Gabriel said, his voice low and smooth. "I'll give you that. Most people wouldn't dare to step in front of my gun."

Amelia swallowed hard, standing her ground despite the weight of his stare. "I'm not afraid of you," she lied, hoping he couldn't see the slight tremor in her hands.

Gabriel's smirk widened, as if her bravery was a source of amusement. "You should be."

Paul stepped forward, his cane hitting the ground with a sharp thud. "You've made your point, Russo. Now lower your weapon and let's talk like civilized men."

Gabriel turned his attention to Paul, his smirk fading into a cold expression. "Civilized?" he repeated mockingly. "Your son raped my cousin. You think I'm here to negotiate civility? No. I'm here for justice."

"Justice?" Paul scoffed, though his voice was strained. "This is revenge, not justice. And my son claims he didn't do it."

Gabriel's jaw tightened, his hand flexing on the gun. "He didn't deny knowing her. That's enough for me."

Rodney opened his mouth to protest, but Amelia shot him a sharp glare, silencing him. "Enough, Rodney," she hissed under her breath before turning back to Gabriel.

"You have a valid reason," Amelia said, her voice firm. "But killing him won't bring your cousin peace. It'll only lead to bloodshed. You don't want that, do you?"

Gabriel's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, silence stretched between them. Then he took a step back, slipping his gun into its holster. Relief flickered on Amelia's face, but it was short-lived.

"Fine," Gabriel said. "I'll spare him. But someone has to pay for his sins." His eyes darkened as they landed on Amelia. "You. Your coming with me."

The air grew heavy again as his words settled over them.

Paul's face twisted in fury. His calm expression totally disappearing. "Absolutely not," he growled, his grip on his cane tightening. "You're out of your damn mind if you think I'd hand over my daughter to you!"

Amelia's breath caught in her throat, as she processed Gabriel's words. If she went with him, there was no telling what would happen to her.

Gabriel shrugged, indifferent. "Then we'll pick up where we left off. And trust me, I won't hesitate this time. Either I take her, or I take your son's life. Choose."

Paul stepped closer. "You lay a hand on my daughter, and I swear-"

"You'll do what?" Gabriel interrupted, his tone icy. "You're out of moves, Old man. This is the only deal you're getting."

Paul's chest heaved, his fury almost blinding him. "You bastard!" he spat, his voice shaking. "How dare you-"

"Dad!" Amelia shouted, panic flashing in her eyes. She turned to her father, her voice trembling. "Dad, please. If it's between me or Rodney's life-"

"No!" Paul snapped, his hand slamming down on his cane. "You're my daughter, Amelia. I won't let this madman take you."

Amelia stepped closer to her father, her hands gripping his arms. "I'm your daughter and I don't want to lose my family. If he kills Rodney, You'll kill him, Then he's men would kill you. Don't you see? We can't win this fight!"

Paul clenched his jaw, his eyes flickering between Amelia and Gabriel. "Never. I won't let this happen." he said through gritted teeth.

"Dad," Amelia pleaded. "It's about survival. Someone has to pay, and if it's me... at least Rodney and you will live."

Paul looked at his daughter, his heart breaking at her words. "Amelia... you don't understand what you're asking. Once you go with him, you may never come back."

Amelia forced a small, shaky smile. "I know, Dad. But I'll figure it out."

Paul's fists tightened on his cane. He wanted to fight, to defy Gabriel Russo and his audacious demands. But deep down, he knew Amelia was right. They were outmatched, and refusal meant certain death.

Gabriel watched the exchange silently, his expression unreadable, though his patience was visibly wearing thin.

"Times ticking," Gabriel drawled, tapping his watch. "What's it going to be, Old man? Or should I start painting your lovely estate with your son's blood?"

Paul glared at Gabriel with all the hatred he could muster, but he knew he had no choice. With a deep, shuddering breath, he looked at Amelia, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry, my girl."

Amelia nodded, tears brimming in her eyes, but she held her head high. "It's okay, Dad. I'll be fine. I promise."

Gabriel's smirk returned as he gestured for Amelia to come forward. "Good choice."

As Amelia stepped toward him, Rodney grabbed her arm. "Amelia, don't-"

She pulled away, her voice firm. "You owe me, Rodney. Don't make this worse."

Gabriel reached out, taking her wrist as if sealing a deal. His grip was firm, almost possessive, but he offered her a mocking smile. "Welcome to the Russo family, sweetheart."

Paul turned away, unable to watch as Gabriel led his daughter to the waiting car. His heart shattered with every step she took.

Rodney stood frozen, guilt and fear etched on his face.

As Gabriel opened the car door for Amelia, she paused, looking back at her father and brother one last time before sliding into the car.

The car door slammed shut, and with it, Amelia's old life.

Gabriel glanced at her as he slid into the driver's seat. "Brave move back there," he said, his tone almost amused. "But you'll learn that bravery has consequences."

Amelia didn't respond, staring out the window as the car pulled away, her mind racing. She had saved her family, but at what cost?