Beneath the Mafia's Allure: His Mask and Bride

Against all odds Paris glittered that night, careless in its beauty, as if the city had no room for monsters. She never saw it coming. One moment, she was walking briskly along Rue de Rivoli, her heels clicking against the cobblestones, clutching her Hermes Birkin which had in it all her valuables. She hears a sound and stops. She scans her environment, her hands tightly clutching her Hermes Birkin and scarf wounded tightly around her face suppressing her view of the world. However this was not enough as a van soon followed by the sound and in a moment of chaos, she was hurled into the van and a sharp cloth pressed against her nose. She wanted to scream but all she perceived was the unattractive sting of chemical which passed through her nose and entered her body. Immediately, it dawned on her that she was being drugged. “f**k” she muttered as she lost consciousness. Elena Ricci stared awake in an European styled bedroom with pink overflowing. “You’re awake, Cherie” Aleksandr Volkov said. His voice was low, mellow and charming. However Elena felt danger looming. The room was dimly lit with faint pink glow which she detested. “Do not turn on the light Ma Belle” Aleksandr said with a chuckle. “the glow is perfect on you” he concluded. Elena narrowed her eyes and left the bed as she walked towards the man in the wheelchair with a powerful voice. Her silk gown clinging to her figure, black hair sliding over her shoulders like midnight silk. Her green eyes burned with defiance and her red lips arched into a smile. Elena stood before Aleksandr, her hands lightly caressing her wrist. “your men hurled me roughly” Elena complaining with charm. “They will be punished” Aleksandr deep voice rang out. His lips curled up into a smile underneath, curious to see her new tactics. Elena looked at the man seated in the wheelchair, wearing a mask. All she could see were his dark eyes and broken legs but she knew that he was an attractive man in the past. Her eyes swept pass the wheelchair and briefly landed on his index fingers where she saw a ring made of a tattoo with a triangle crested in the middle of the ring. “ Volkov” Elena noted and looked at Aleksandr with a faint smile. “The Ricci never give in” she said. “And the Volkov never give up” Aleksandr said faintly retreating in darkness. The door locked behind Aleksandr leaving behind Elena. She knew the Volkov and though she had never met Aleksandr, she had heard of the ruler of the Volkov family who moves around in wheelchair and mask. He is rumored be dangerous and blood spilled everywhere he enters. She was just the disgraced daughter of the Ricci family who lived her life everyday seeking revenge against her parents unjust death. “Aleksandr Volkov… Are you him?”, Elena muttered Right then, the door opened and a maid walked in with several other maids in tow. Elena watched as they placed several items in the room and a meal. “Madame, it’s done. You should rest early. Tomorrow is your big day” the maid said. “what is your name” Elena asked. “Madame, you can call me Luciana” replied Luciana “Italian huh!” Elena muttered, looking at Luciana who smiled at her. “ Tell me, if I wrapped my hands around your neck, would I make it out of this room?” Elena muttered. Luciana didn’t flinch. She only smiled politely. “The bell is by the switch, Madame. Ring it, and we’ll attend to you.” Then she locked the door behind her. Elena narrowed her eyes noting that Aleksandr’s people were not easy target and her art of seduction was useless on them. At dawn, Elena was dragged out of the bed very early the following day by different maids. The maids cleaned her up before presenting her before a man who fussed about her hair. “but she is beautiful” the man noted as he applied makeup on her face before arranging her hair. Few minutes later, the man was done and a lady walked into the room. “Madame Volkov, let’s get you dressed up”, the lady said. Elena finally snapped her eyes opened upon hearing a familiar voice and she looked at the woman before her in excitement. “Catalina” Elena said, unable to believe her eyes. Catalina Modrich, the queen of Paris couture, especially when it came to bridal outfit. “Mr. Volkov told me his bride was a beauty and he was right” Catalina said. While Elena was still in disbelief, Catalina lifted the garment bag, unzipped it and a mermaid shaped gown was revealed. Elena looked at the gown dazed, seemingly transcended into a different timeline where she still heard herself say, “Dante, isn’t this gown beautiful. I love it”. “How did you know I will love this gown” Elena asked smiling, her finger trembling against the fabric. “Mr. Volkov designed it himself. He sent me the sketch” Catalina said in admiration, “he is a talented man” Her smile deepened. She smiled faintly, though her chest burned with rage. “Indeed,” she muttered. “Aleksandr Volkov”. With rage and curiosity building in her, Elena was led to the church. She looked at the cars and men stationed outside the church and she knew that this wasn’t a simple wedding. The cars were armored build and the guards stationed themselves orderly. She, from a mafia family knew these were no ordinary guards. As she walked down the aisle, she saw the powerhouse of Paris. All which she only saw in magazines and television. They stood up for her with bodyguards rightly standing besides them. They smile amicably at her but she saw danger in their smile. Only her groom who was crippled stayed seated on the wheelchair with a mask on his face. However, his mask on this day was unique with his lips rightly placed outside the mask. His wheelchair was higher than usual, perhaps because he wanted to look taller before his bride. However despite him crippled, his aura was dangerous and though with a faint smile on his lips, Elena doubted if he was the same man she knew. All she saw around him was danger. Elena finally stood before Aleksandr at the priest presided over the wedding and Elena looked at the man before her. She wondered if he was who she thought he was and who she has been searching for many years now. If Aleksandr was him, then good because he owe her a debt…Life. “Do you, Elena Ricci take Aleksandr Volkov as your lawfully wedded husband…?” the priest asked Elena who said nothing. The guest looked at Elena in surprise. Aleksandr smiled faintly as Elena looked at him. The priest repeatedly the question and still got no reply from Elena and by the third time, Elena finally responded, “I do”. The priest wiped his swear and hurriedly declared them husband and wife with Elena sealing it with a kiss. Outside the church, a screech sound was heard followed by gun shots. The guest screamed and in the chaos, Elena slowly drifted apart from Aleksandr.