Forced To Marry The Mafia's Son

Adela

IT WAS NINE pm, and my dad was yet to speak to anyone. He'd arrived home gloomy and distracted, zoning out every second. And no matter how hard mom probed, he wouldn't say what the problem was. I would have tried to inquire of him, what has been eating him up since he returned. But my father is in a very snappy mood and I very much still need my head.

A knock on the door downstairs has me taking one of my earpieces out of place. It's nine pm, who visits someone by this time? Probably dad's boss or one of the errands boys he sends over. I mean, I've never seen dad's boss before and mom says he's a ruthless fucker, who'd off anyone who dares to even look at him the wrong way.

"Go get the door, Adela", I groan with an eye roll at Mom's voice. We most certainly need a helping hand around this house. I get tired from running all the errands for Mom and Dad. He's just a soldier, he probably won't be able to afford another soldier.

I shoot out of bed and drag my feet down the stairs to the front door. Fixing my most annoyed face, I ask.

"Who's there?", I pause for a few beats and no one answers, instead whenever it is knocked harder against the door. I sigh and roll my eyes, again. Whichever asshole is on the other side of this door, clearly has no manners. If I were in a mood, I'd let them knock till their knuckles turn red and then Mom will kill me.

With no other plot in mind, I pull open the door. My breath leaves me in stutters. Jesus fucking Christ. Dios. Right here in front of me is the most enchanting pair of grey eyes, sharp jaws, that could rival the cutting power of diamonds, and a straight pointed nose. His jaw is covered in light stubble, his lips so pink, like he used a lip liner.

I snap out of my trance and square my shoulders, hands curling tighter on the door. The too-good-to-be-true beauty before me has an entourage so vast behind him, the Queen of England would be amazed. And they are all armed to the fucking tooth. Mr. Too good to be true has a man around his father's age or older beside him, who looks exactly like him. His father. While his free hand is brandishing a gun, his father has both of his stuffed in his trouser pocket.

"Who are you?", The younger one who is dressed in a neat shiny black suit, with a permanent scowl on his face steps in front of me, crowding my space.

"Move aside young lady, and where is your father?", My brows pinch together. Did he not just hear my question, or does the gun in his hand make him feel invincible?

"Ehm, sorry but...", He scoffs, the younger one, and roughly shoves me aside, storming into my house.

"Where is he? Where is fucking Montes?", He thunders, kicking stuff out of the way like he owns the place.

Rushed footsteps sound on the stairs and moments later, my mom surfaces. Her pupils dilate in equal parts fear and shock. Who the hell are these people?

"Mr. Mendoza",

"Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Montes..", the younger Mendoza drawls sarcastically "... Where's your husband?",

Mom's mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air out of water. I'm under no illusion who these men are. Mobsters. That explains all the arms, and men, and aura. Mom finally gathers herself and calls dad's name. After two tries, he comes downstairs. He looks scared at first, shaken. But he masks with a neutral expression.

Mendoza Jr smirks, sauntering over to dad. The look on his face is like that of a Lion ready to go in for the kill on it's prey.

"Montes, how lovely to meet again. Sì?", He says, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He punches dad so hard, he falls to the floor and blood starts to drip from his nose.

As if invoked, his soldiers rush towards my father, and hold him on his knees. The smirk from earlier on Mendoza Jr's face drains out, replaced by pure unbridled fury.

"How fucking dare you Montes? How fucking dare you? You think I'm stupid, huh? Answer me stronzo", his voice booms in the silence of the room. He was pissed, beyond pissed even. And papa. What did he do to these people, to Mendoza Jr? I know he works for and with the Mafia, but this doesn't seem like business dealings to me.

When Dad wouldn't answer, Mendoza Jr scoffs and squats, so he's eye level with Dad.

"Either way, I'm sure you know the consequences of trying to fuck me over", he rises and trains the barrel of his gun to dad's head. This is probably not the time, but this is the first time I'm seeing a gun in real life. Despite his line of work and affiliations, dad's never allowed me a glimpse of his gun.

"One last thing. In your next life, try to be more loyal", he unclicks the safety.

"Wait", I don't even know when the word leaves my mouth. Mom stands quietly at a corner whimpering into her palm, giving me that 'don't interfere' look.

Mendoza Jr groans and turns to face me, fury burning deep in his iris.

"Yes miss, what's the problem?", I clear my throat.

"Are you... Are you going to kill my dad?", He throws me a look of disbelief and scoffs.

"No...", He says with a shake of his head "... I'm going to babysit him. What the fuck does it look like I'm about to do?",

"I guess the gun means you're going to kill him", he nods, a small smirk grazing his lips.

"Good fucking kid. Now do me a favor and shut the fuck up",

"Please, don't kill him", I blur out, tugging at the hem of my shirt. He groans loud, tugging at his perfectly slicked back hair, like an addict on withdrawal. He storms up to me and grabs my jaw viciously.

"Interrupt me again, and I will take out your legs, before killing your father. And after that, I'll create a pretty little hole in the middle of your head, so you can spend the rest of eternity with Daddy dearest. Sì?",

"You should let the kid be, Stephano", the older man speaks up for the fist time, slowly strolling over to where we stood. So, his name is Stephano. Good.

Stephano unhands me at once and steps back. Mendoza Snr scrutinizes me, hands still shoved in his pockets.

"Kid's got some nerve", he remarks, touching his bottom lip "We'll keep her", Mendoza Snr says after a few beats. I choke on my breath, what?

"Keep her?...", Stephano scoffs, clearly growing agitated "... What are we going to do with her, eat her? I'm hoping you say kill her", he stresses the kill part, and the old man just smiles.

"As much as I love the idea, killing her wouldn't make real sense. Keeping her is the best punishment, at least for Montes. I guess he will die in a few days when he doesn't see his pretty damsel", Stephano grits his teeth, glaring at his father, before looking away.

"Round up the men, we're leaving. And take the girl with you. And Montes...", Stephano turns back to my father "... The next time you fuck with me, I'll put a bullet between your eyes faster than you can blink. But only after torturing you to within an inch of your life.", He snarls at my father.

"Can't I just stay a day or something. At least say goodbye to my parents?", Stephano pinches the bridge of his nose. Okay, I should get that leash I've been meaning to buy, and put it on my tongue.

Stephano takes me by my shoulder, and leans in till he's staring me in the eyes.

"This is how this will go. After five seconds, because I'm generous like that, if you're still unable to choose where you stand, I'll do it. I'm giving you a choice principessa",

This asshole. Choosing to go with him, or let him kill my dad is being generous. I can't let him kill my dad. I mean even if I go with him, it's for a while and I can still see my dad after that, right?

"Fine. Fine. I'll go with you if I have to, just don't kill my dad", Stephano raises and eyebrow.

"Good. Very smart of you. Bring the old man along", he orders his goons and grabs my arm.

"Hey, we had an agreement", I protest.

"And I didn't kill your dad, did I? Walk", the one word order chills deep into my bones and like a robot, I start to walk. Letting Stephano lead me like a lamb to the fucking slaughter.

I huff when I'm thrown into the back of the tinted SUV the Mendoza's came in , and Stephano enter after me.

Arrogant asshole. You want a prized possession, a spoil of war, well he's got one. A handful one. And I'll make him regret it.