The Mafia King’s Doll

Tori

We’re taken through a set of glass doors at the back of the mansion, and stepping onto a veranda, my gaze keeps flitting over all the beauty, which I can’t help but notice.

The backyard is very big, and the lawn looks freshly cut. There are lounge chairs situated on either side of a rectangular pool, and the water looks as blue as the sky.

Potted flowers add color to the garden, and there are four large ones at every corner of the pool.

I see Father Parisi standing by Tiny, but there are no other guests.

Are we early?

Without saying a word, Angelo continues to walk to the side of the house until he stops beneath the tree I saw when I was in the living room.

Everyone follows him, and when he turns to face me, a shiver creeps down my spine.

I’m not going to lie, I feel super uncomfortable being the only woman here.

Two of Angelo’s men come to stand on either side of Giorgio, and a hollowness settles in my stomach.

For a moment, the thought that they’re going to kill us flits through my mind. But then Father Parisi gives me an apologetic look, making an eerie sensation coast over my body.

Oh, God. No!

The realization hits as Angelo locks eyes with me, and his order is cold when he says, “We’re getting married, Vittoria.”

Waves of shock slam into me, forcing me to take a step backward. “What?” Giorgio snaps. “That was not the deal!”

Angelo’s eyes remain on me as he mutters, “We had no deal, Romano.

You’ll keep your mouth shut until you’re given permission to speak.”

My lips part on a gasp, and for a long moment, I can only stare at Angelo.

Slowly, the shock of his announcement is joined by intense fear and desperation.

No.

I shake my head, my mouth unable to form words.

Angelo moves closer to me, and it takes all my courage to stand still while every cell in my body screams for me to run.

His intense gaze bores into mine. “In exchange for canceling the three hundred thousand dollars he owes, Giorgio offered your virginity to me. After I’ve had my fill of you, he intended to pawn you off to a man who doesn’t mind spoiled goods.”

My eyes drift closed, and even though I shouldn’t be surprised or hurt, the betrayal still stings and my heart squeezes painfully.

It’s the most vile thing Giorgio’s ever done to me.

I feel Angelo’s hand on my chin right before he demands, “Open your eyes.”

They pop open, and seeing how close he’s standing to me, my mouth grows bone dry.

His amber irises burn like the sun on me. “With me, you will enjoy a life of luxury. You’ll be safe.”

His words mean nothing to me, because the men of the Cosa Nostra only know how to be violent and selfish.

I pull my chin free from his hold and lower my head. I can’t look at anyone right now.

I’m well aware of how the Cosa Nostra works, and I know there’s no way of escaping this wedding.

“I just need a moment to process the shock,” I whisper.

“I’ll give you a minute,” he says before turning his attention to Father Parisi, “Father, you can take your place. The ceremony will start soon.”

Pressing my palm against my stomach, I suck in deep breaths.

There’s nowhere to run and no escaping the impending wedding. What the capos of the Cosa Nostra want, they get.

I let out a quivering breath, and lifting my head, I see Angelo standing by Father Parisi.

They’re waiting for me.

Never in a million years did I think I’d marry into one of the five families.

My mind races to process what’s happening, and the same thoughts keep popping up.

I don’t have a choice. This wedding will happen, and I’ll become Angelo Rizzo’s wife. I’ll cook his meals. I’ll share a bed with him. I’ll bear his children.

Holy crap!

My breaths speed up as one realization after the other hits.

But one thought stands out above all the others – I’m marrying Angelo Rizzo. Right now. Right here.

Mother of God!

“Take your place beside me, Vittoria,” Angelo orders.

Slowly, my feet move, and a cloak of darkness wraps around me, covering me in despair.

When I stop next to Angelo, my body is nothing but a trembling mess. My heart is hammering against my ribs, and my breaths are shallow and fearful.

I lift my eyes to Angelo’s face as he nods at Father Parisi to begin.

While Father Parisi reads a passage from the scripture, I look at the man I’m marrying as if I’m seeing him for the first time.

He’s so much bigger than me and a hell of a lot stronger than Giorgio.

Angelo will probably be able to kill me with a single punch.

I swallow hard, and as tears threaten to fall, I fist my hands at my sides.

Don’t cry. Save your tears for the long years ahead.

I take in Angelo’s amber eyes, black-as-ink hair, and powerful body.

He reaches for my hand, and his touch is gentle as his fingers wrap around mine. Feeling how I’m trembling, he gives me a comforting squeeze.

The tender gesture confuses me, and no matter how hard I try to fight it, a seedling of hope is planted in my heart.

Angelo once told me he doesn’t find pleasure in hitting women. Maybe he won’t hurt me. At least not physically.

My attention returns to the ceremony when Father Parisi says, “Angelo and Vittoria, have you come here to enter into marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?”

Angelo’s eyes remain locked on me with the intensity of an inferno as he answers, “I have.”

Silence follows Angelo’s reply, and when I take too long to speak, Father Parisi clears his throat to get my attention.

My lips part, and as the last of the sun disappears over the horizon, I whisper, “I have.”

Garden lights illuminate the yard, and if I weren’t being forced to marry a capo of the Cosa Nostra, I’d take a moment to admire how magical everything looks.

“Since it is your intention to enter into the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and His church.”

Angelo gives my right hand, which he’s already holding, a firm squeeze before he says, “I, Angelo Rizzo, take you, Vittoria Romano, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. I will love and honor you all the days of my life.”

Love? Honor? Those words have no place in the Cosa Nostra.Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Vittoria, it’s your turn,” Father Parisi whispers.

My eyes dart between my priest and Angelo. “What do I say?” Father Parisi gives me a compassionate look. “Repeat after me.”

I take a deep breath, and my heartbeat slows down until it feels like a whisper in my chest as I repeat the words Father Parisi murmurs to me. “I, Vittoria Romano, take you, Angelo Rizzo, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health…” I pause to take another breath, and my voice is softer when I continue, “…until death do us part.”

My chin begins to quiver, and unable to lie by saying I’ll love this man, I whisper, “I’ll honor you all the days of my life.”

It’s the only promise I can make right now.

There’s a moment’s silence before Father Parisi says, “What God joins together, let no one put asunder.”

There’s no running away. There’s no place to hide.

The dangerous man in front of me is my future.

My dreams of living in a small town with a loving husband go up in smoke.

“Exchange wedding rings,” Father Parisi instructs.

Before I can think to worry about Angelo’s ring, he removes a small crimson velvet box from his pocket, and opening it, he pulls two wedding bands from the pillow. He hands me the thicker ring that has the letters A & V engraved on it.

A for Angelo and V for Vittoria.

I’m confused by the romantic gesture.

When Angelo pushes the thinner band onto my ring finger, he says, “Vittoria, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

Fidelity. Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it. Men in the Cosa Nostra don’t know the meaning of monogamy.

I push the ring onto Angelo’s finger, repeating what he just said, but once again, I leave out the word ‘love.’

Father Parisi clears his throat before announcing, “In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Angelo leans down to kiss me, but at the last second, I turn my face, and his lips brush over my cheek.

I keep my eyes lowered, wishing I could find a quiet corner where I can process what’s happened in the past hour.

I married Angelo Rizzo.