BOUND TO THE MAFIA KING

Ava’s POV My phone vibrated again. Dad: Come home. Now. I stared at the message, my stomach tightened. Two days ago, he told me he had an announcement. The way he said it made something cold settle in my stomach. Something didn't feel right. He never called unless it mattered. And when things mattered to him,they usually ended badly for me. I stared at the manuscript open on my computer screen without really reading a single word. Phones rang across the office. Keyboards clicked rapidly. Someone laughed near the printers while another editor argued over deadlines nearby. The kind of life I wanted. Normal. Safe. Far away from the mafia world. Melissa leaned in, her voice a playful whisper. “You’re twitchy today. What’s going on?” I forced a smile even though my fingers felt cold around my coffee cup. “Nothing. I’m just tired.” Melissa had been my best friend since high school, and somehow we’d ended up working at the same publishing company. ​ “You look like you just saw a ghost,” she teased, bumping her shoulder against mine. “I’m working,” I muttered, pretending to focus on the documents. She smiled like she didn’t believe me. My phone vibrated in my bag . I ignored it Melissa kept talking, but I barely listened It vibrated the second time. A strange knot tightened in my stomach. “Are you okay?” Melissa frowned. “Yeah,” my voice cracked anyway. The third vibration felt like a threat. Fear curled low in my stomach. My fingers tightened around the phone so hard I thought it might crack. I hated how easily he could make me feel powerless. I grew up around chaos. Mafia ties. Dangerous men. Threats. Blood. I hated that world, the thought of it made my skin crawl. My father wasn’t in the mafia, but he worked closely enough with them to make no difference. Does this mean he belongs with them? Am I one of them then? This job had become my escape. The office. The deadlines. The manuscripts. The quiet routine. I almost thought I could have it. I was wrong. ​“I have to go,” I whispered, already grabbing my bag. “Ava, are you okay?” she asked again. Without waiting for another question, I rushed out of the office with my heartbeat pounding violently inside my chest. …………. Home felt smaller than I remembered. Or maybe I just noticed how suffocating it had always been. The house was quiet. Too quiet. My father sat in the living room. Black suit. A cup of coffee sat untouched on the table. His old silver watch wrapped around his wrist - the one my mom had gifted him years ago. He didn't smile when I entered. He didn’t ask how work was. He didn’t ask if I had eaten. As usual, there was no greeting. He looked at me, eyes hard with resolve. “Sit,” he said. I sat slowly, a knot twisted in my stomach. “You’re twenty-two,” he said, “it’s time you started acting like that.” I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He paused. The ticking clock on the wall suddenly sounded louder. My pulse pounded in my ears. Whatever he was about to say, I knew I wasn't going to like it. “I’ve arranged your marriage.” The words hit me like a slap. For a second, I honestly thought I misheard him. “What?” “You’re getting married,” he said. My hands trembled as my vision blurred. I stared at him. Waiting for the joke. It never came. I laughed once, sharp and disbelieving. He must be bluffing. He’s never brought this up before, why now?. And he doesn’t get to decide who I get married to. “You can’t be serious.” “I am.” “No!” I jerked upright from the couch, eyes widened. “Wait, is this the announcement you were talking about?” Shit! that explains it. I've been having these unusual bad feelings for the past two days, but I couldn't place what it was. “You don't get to do this,” my voice cracked. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks. I hadn’t even realized I was crying. My father sat still without blinking once, and his silence hurt me more. “It’s my life and I decide how it goes,” I raised my voice, not wondering I was screaming. I was trying to make a point here. “It’s for your own good,” he finally spoke. I laughed bitterly. Yeah right! Since when did he care about me? Ever since Mom died, I’ve been utterly and completely alone. He decided everything for me. The friends I kept. The school I attended. What version of myself was acceptable. And now this. Marriage. Like I was another agreement waiting to be signed. “f**k that” I yelled. He gave me a shocked look, probably because of the language I used, but I didn't care. I took a deep breath, shutting my eyes because I was clearly about to lose it. “Dad, please tell me it’s a joke.” I faked a smile. But somewhere in my messed up mind I knew it wasn’t a joke. He wasn’t a man to joke around. “To whom?” My heartbeat thundered in my ears. He paused, eyes drifting. That pause broke something in me. “To Alessandro De Luca.” The name crashed into the room. I stopped breathing. Everyone knows that name. Mafia boss. Ruthless. Untouchable. A man whose world swallowed people whole. My chest tightened so painfully I could barely breathe. Alessandro De Luca wasn’t just dangerous. He was the kind of man who ruined lives without a second thought. Men feared him. And now my father wanted me to marry him. Fear crawled slowly up my spine. No. This couldn’t be happening to me. I shook my head immediately. "I'm not marrying him." "You are," my father said calmly. "No." "This conversation is over." Panic surged through me. "You can't force me." For the first time, something unreadable flashed across my father's face. Then he said something that made my stomach drop. “You were never given a choice.”