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The air weighed heavy with what seemed oncoming storm even though the sky seemed to be clear. Isabella lived at the remote heart of the Sicilian country side with her parents where the sky was too high above for anyone to ever see where it ended behind mountains or hills except through climbing on one of them or taking an airplane flying over them. Her father was sitting at one edge of a long wooden table, his big body slightly leaning on the table and his hair seemed to be gradually losing color. The room was gloomy on account of heavy curtain drapes preventing sunlight from getting in.
The room was shadowy, the deep curtains cutting out most of the daylight. It was just how her father preferred it; he liked things in his life to be secret -that was just his character. Isabella sat at the other end of the table, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of her wine glass. Her older brother, Giovanni, stood by the door, his expression hard as granite, arms crossed over his broad chest. The air was thick with tension, and even though her father had called for a "family meeting," she had not yet been told why.
"Isabella," spoke her father, his voice rough like gravel, breaking the silence. His eyes in deep sockets shot in her direction, and she could read a mixture of anger, frustration, and something else-desperation. "You know I wouldn't ask this of you if there were any other way."
Her heart skipped a beat since she had been waiting for this moment ever since the antagonism between her family and their rivalling family – the Rossi's – in the underworld became overtly threatening by the latter's move when it invaded their territory. What was once a De Luca balance of power with Rossi had over recent times shifted further than her father had desired.
She straightened up and looked him in the eye, even though her pulse rate increased. "Ask me what, father?"
Emilio groaned audibly, while Giovanni's jaws tightened, as if he already knew what was coming.
Emilio sighed heavily. Finally, her father spoke, his voice low but firm. "You're going to marry Alessandro Rossi."
The words landed like a hammer blow.
For a very brief moment, Isabella felt quite overwhelmed, leaving her in the state of hearing her breath alone. When it comes to Sicily, just saying the name Alessandro Rossi was a dangerous thing. A man known for the harshness and iron hand he used in ruling over his empire, the head of the Rossi family was a terrible person. For years, he'd been causing problems to her family yet now...he was to become her husband!
She tried to talk but her mouth couldn't say anything meaningful given the fact that her father's command totally confused her.
"Is this meant to be funny?" she asked in a low voice, disbelievingly.
"He's not kidding," Giovanni grumbled by the door in a disappointed tone. His eyes were menacingly black. "It's a treaty-a union. Father and Rossi really shook hands, last night. You're to marry him in two weeks."
To grasp the idea, Isabella first blinked...hard. Her father had always been a good schemer but this-this was not just another move. It was a sacrifice. Her sacrifice.
"I can't," she whispered, though her voice trembled like an old man's. "I won't marry him, he's the devil."
"Fuck no," she said in a pleadingly softer voice than before; still shaky though.
She was angry and tears were welling in her eyes. "You want me to get married to the man who has caused so much loss of blood and so much pain. He is a murderer, papa!"
Emilio's face became stern as his jaws tightened, staring at her. "We are all killers Isabella, there is no innocent person in this world. This is how to stop the massacre and make peace between our families. Do you think I would choose this for you? to hand my daughter to that man?" He faltered a little bit, suppressing emotions. "But we have no other way out."
That portended nothing good for her. The previous year had seen sustained assaults on the De Luca strongholds by Rossi family-and they were also in significant danger of falling out of favor with De Luca business interests as well as the individuals who anchored and invested in them. They managed to keep their rivals at bay for a while, but recently there has been some backslide. Her father must have been at his wits' end to have tried something so desperate.
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