Chapter 1

One

Elena – Age Nineteen

I look in the large mirror, taking in my white dress.

It's tight around my breasts, being held up by thick straps, and flares from my upper stomach, hitting the floor with a very long train.

There's no major detail; the fabric is smooth silk, and only a simple butterfly is attached to the satin wrap just under my breasts.

Plain and simple, just like me.

My hair is up in a fancy twist, with some strands curled around my face. My makeup is light, and my jewelry is plain and en pointe.

A silver choker graces my neck, which Romeo bought as a gift on our first meeting. I didn’t want to accept it. The engagement ring feels heavy on my finger despite being quite modest. A piercing blue gemstone sits on a white gold band, with three small diamonds on either side, and several little ones molded around the gem.

It's beautiful, yet my hand feels numb, my finger wanting to fall off.

Today's my wedding day, and instead of giggling and feeling light and happy, I feel like I can't breathe, like all the air is being sucked out of my body.

Two years ago, my father decided to let me in on his plans for me. A man my sister was supposed to marry had been promised to me instead, all because she couldn't keep her panties on.

I can still see the sorrow in his eyes, and yet he made this decision knowing I wanted to leave the mafia life.

"Your father would like to see you miss," Colin, my father's butler, says from the library door, making me look up from my math book.

I furrow my brows but give him a nod, and close my book.

The library is the one place everyone knows where to find me. Apart from my room, it's the only place in the mansion where I feel warmth.

Sighing, I leave my sanctuary, and head to the second floor, where Papa's office is. The house has four wings: one for my parents, one for Liliya, one for me, and the other for the servants and the men who guard the house.

Being a Pakhan means my father has many enemies, but thankfully, no one knows where his residence is for our safety, or well, that's what he tells us, anyway.

Getting to his big brown door, I take a deep breath, and knock.

I'm nervous. He never calls me to his office unless Liliya has made up some crap about me, and today, well, she was angry. After screwing the wide receiver in the bathroom, she waited another ten minutes for whoever she was waiting for, something I wasn't privy to, and then she stormed out of the café.

God, I hope she hasn't blamed me for today. I don't want Papa to take my school from me; it's all I have.

"Enter," my father says loudly, and I swallow hard, opening the door only to freeze at seeing a man sitting in front of my father's desk, along with another man, who is sitting next to him, neither turning when I enter the room. My mother is perched on the arm of my father's chair, glaring at me.

Ah crap, what did I do?

Clearing my throat, I say softly, "You called for me, Papa?"

Papa gives me a gentle smile. "I did, printsessa . Come closer, please."

I swallow hard and do as he asks, my mother's glare searing through me. I don't look at the men, and they don't speak to me. I keep my eyes on Papa as I stand in front of them.

His eyes show sorrow and apologies, and I stiffen.

I swear, if he's about to take school from me, then I'm packing my bags; he'll have to lock me up to keep me here.

"Elena, it has been decided that you'll wed after your nineteenth birthday," he states firmly, and nausea hits. He continues, "You will wed Romeo Russo."

My body trembles.

Romeo Russo, the heir to the Italian mafia.

A ruthless man….

A man who made a traitor swallow his own….

"With, uh, all due respect, Papa, I-I don't understand." My father’s eyes soften. "I-I thought Liliya would marry someone of that level. I-I uh, I'm just the second born…."

Mama's eyes burn with rage when we make eye contact, before my father speaks up again, causing me to look his way.

"Your sister was originally supposed to be betrothed to Romeo. Your outing today was for him to vet your sister." I wince, knowing exactly what she was doing in that cafe. Papa nods. "He's aware of her activities." He looks at Mama with a hard look, who flinches. He admits, "It came to my attention that your sister had an abortion last week." My eyes widen in shock, my mouth opens a little. "And it's not the first time. As you can imagine, a wedding cannot happen between your sister and Romeo; it's like a kick in the teeth for the Italian mafia, with your sister's blatant disregard." Papa tilts his head to the men, but I don't look at them, especially now I know who they are.

The Italian mafia.

"The Russo men were at the café when you and your sister arrived, and a few stayed behind after Romeo and his brother left. Your sister fucked the barista, even knowing she was there to meet her betrothed."

I grimace and remember. "She was two hours late…."

Papa nods. "She was, all while you sat in the car waiting for her, and you didn't even want to go." Papa sighs. "We’ve agreed that you'll finish high school." My heart pounds, fear filling me as my father looks at me with such sorrow. "And you'll complete a few semesters of college before your wedding."

Tears burn my eyes.

My sister is a whore, and now I'm being punished for her actions.

Papa stands. "I understand this is something you don't want, printsessa, but it's something you must do for our family. You will only go to college if you sign the contract."

And there's the ruthless father I know so well, proving I mean nothing to him.

My breathing picks up, anger shooting through me as I hold my head high, and admit, "I'd rather live on the streets than marry for an alliance. I stayed in all the AP classes as you requested. I'm at the top of my class, I’m a shoe-in for valedictorian." I shake my head. "Sorry, Papa, but I'm not signing any papers, and if you don't want to continue funding my schooling, then I'll just move out and find a way myself." Mama slowly stands while my father looks at me with pity, clearly thinking I won’t go through with it. I scoff, "I'm not some prize you can auction off. I'm a person, and I will not marry anyone, especially not the future Don of the Italians."

Mama moves quickly. One moment, she's standing near Papa, and the next, her handprint is on my cheek.

I grunt, biting my lip so I don't make a sound as she grips my sore cheek, and gets in my face. Anger radiates from her, and she growls, "You will do as you are told."

My nostrils flare as Papa snaps, "Anastasia!"

Mama ignores him. "You will do this for your sister, or so help me, God. I will make you regret it!"

I glare at the woman who birthed me as a man's voice speaks calmly behind me.

"Mrs. Mikhailov, right now you're threatening my future bride, who has just been given, what I can only imagine, is quite the shock, and I do not take this lightly. I suggest you get out of her face, and move back right now."

Mama glares at him but flinches, realizing who she is glaring at, and looks down. I don't move or even look at the man.

"Mikhail, maybe we need to knock off half a million for your wife's actions," another man states, and I stiffen, my eyes going to my father.

He flinches at the coldness in my eyes, and nothing but hate fills me.

He sold me…he actually sold me.

"You can't do that…Liliya needs…." Mama's words cut off and I chuckle, shaking my head.

"Wow, so not only did you sell me, but you sold me for your other daughter," I sneer, and Papa looks down. "Real nice," I comment, and he flinches. Mama gives me a cold, sharp look, which I return with such hatred that even she flinches.

As always, my sister comes first.

A man behind me, speaks, "The contract states, you'll marry my son two semesters into college, and will continue with your Bachelor’s after your wed." Oh, how nice of them. I fist my hands when my father gives me a pointed look to remind me the Italian Don is speaking, but I curl my lip at him, causing his eyes to widen. The man continues, "It is stated that you cannot divorce unless you have given birth to an heir within five years; if you haven't, then not only will you lose everything, your possessions, money, clothes on your back, but you'll lose whatever job my son allows you to have, and will be blacklisted."

Motherfucker!

I smirk at my father, and give him a round of applause with a slow clap, and sneer, "Wow, so not only did you sell me like cattle, but you've even stipulated a breeding program, and ensured I’ll have nothing if I don’t go ahead with said breeding program. Well done; you've outdone yourself."

Papa doesn't react except for grabbing Mama's hand before she can smack me again, while my eyes go to the contract on his desk, my name and Romeo’s are in large capital letters at the top.

Shaking my head, I ignore everyone in the room and step forward. I pick up the pen and sign my life away, knowing my mother won't allow Liliya to suffer for whatever reason, even though it’s most likely her own doing.

I slam the pen down and look at my father. "There you go, Pakhan Mikhailov." He flinches. "You've officially sold your youngest daughter for your eldest." I lean forward. "After I'm forced down that aisle, I don't want to see you or your bitch wife ever again, because as far as I’m concerned, I’m an orphan."

His eyes widen, and he goes to speak, but I ignore him, and storm out of his office without acknowledging the other men, not even glancing at my future jailer.

I guess I was stupid to think my father would allow me to live a normal life.

"You look beautiful, Elena," my Papa whispers, bringing me out of my head, and I look up in the mirror, making eye contact with him.

He knows I don't want this; he knows Liliya does, yet I'm being pushed to do it. I don't understand why, when the man I'm due to marry only wants one person, and that's my sister.

For the past two years, I have been forced to have dinner with him at my father's home with my sister in attendance. Every time, my sister hangs off of my future husband, and he allows her to. He seems to only have eyes for her—heck, I don't even know his actual eye color.

It should be her in the wedding dress, not me.

It was only last week I caught them in what looked to be an intimate situation. My sister was leaning against the wall near the front entrance to our home, while Romeo had his arm leaning above her head, his face close to hers.

She looked ready to rip his clothes off.

"Are you ready, Printsessa?" my father asks, but I ignore him. I've barely said a few words each time I'm forced into his proximity, which is quite a lot, no thanks to my soon-to-be jailer.

He lost me the day he forced me to sign that contract, and it doesn't matter how much he tries, I don't want anything to do with him. He did this to me, and now he has to live with the consequences.

"Elena, I allowed you to continue with school. You graduated with high honors and are now in college, studying for your bachelor's degree. You have everything you want…." he tries to say, but I shake my head.

"You're forcing me to marry a man who was intended for my sister, a man who my sister wants." I chuckle darkly. "You sold me." I turn and look at him. "Why should I feel grateful to you when you're doing this to me."

He looks down as the door opens again; my mother, now only just gracing us with her presence, walks in wearing, what do you know, black.

I guess my sister needed more help getting ready on my forced wedding day and what's the bet her dress will be white?

"It's time; why are you holding everything up?" she questions.

I smile sweetly. "I thought if I took a lot of time, Liliya would take my place. I mean, we all know she's most likely wearing a long white dress, even though she's not innocent."

Mama glares at me, and I shake my head and turn back to the mirror again, wishing this was a dream.

"It's time, Elena," my father rasps, and tears burn my eyes, wanting to fall.

Ignoring both of them, I turn and walk out the door, knowing Mama won't lay a hand on me like she did that night I was forced to sign the contract. Once Father went out, she spent the night whipping my back, and after that, Romeo put one of his men on me for my so-called protection alongside Andrei, the same Andrei I won't have as my guard after today.

The only consolation is that he’s retiring, wanting to be home with his wife.

I dread tonight, when my husband takes my virginity and sees the scars. Not sure how I'm supposed to explain them, and I can't exactly say, “Sorry, new husband, I don't want sex tonight; I'm not feeling it”, because with a man as ruthless as Romeo, he won't be happy with a no. However, unlike me, I know he can't have been faithful since I signed the contract, my sister has be obnoxious about how large his member is and how amazing he is in bed.

Maybe he'll leave to find her tonight instead.

One can hope.

Trying to stay strong, I stand outside the white double doors, my Mama on one side, and my father on the other. Papa grabs the hand that's not holding the white and pink lilies, placing it in his arm, but I don't look at him. Instead, I take a deep breath, trying to ignore all the men with guns, and trying my darndest not to think that behind those doors are hundreds of mafia men as well as the fricking mayor.

The “Wedding March” sounds, and nausea hits.

"Don't pass out, Elena, and just smile pretty," Mama utters.

Well, at least moving out to my husband's place would be a blessing in disguise. I no longer have to deal with her.

The doors open, and I take a deep breath. It's time to vow my life away.

I don't know; maybe we'll fall madly in love, or perhaps I'll live a life of misery because I refuse to bring a child into this world surrounded by danger and violence.

Let's hope my new husband doesn't find out about the contraceptive shot I had two weeks ago.