My Mafia Daddy Tastes Like Sin

The Arranged Marriage

ARIANA'S POV~

"Oh my God!"

My eyes almost popped out of their sockets when I finally registered my surroundings just after waking up. My hands flew to my mouth on realizing I was utterly naked, the scenes of last night rushing in like whirlwinds into my head.

My face paled, my blood turning into ice as I felt the cold hands of dread grip me.

"No!" I gasped, my hands reaching for the sheets filled with stains of blood. "No... God please." This wasn't happening to me.

I wanted to scream next when my eyes darted to the naked man beside me, his back turned toward me. I couldn't see his face but I muffled my scream with my palms on seeing the gun placed next to him.

I slept with a mob man? I'm so dead.

My heart raced as I struggled to decide what to do. Should I hit him awake, turn him around to see his face, or just flee? My breath quickened and became ragged. I felt helpless and confused.

I desperately wanted to just die right now, to escape this situation, that was the only thought running through my mind. I climbed down from the bed, reaching for my clothes on the floor. To my horror, I discovered that they had been shredded. I gasped, quickly covering my mouth to avoid waking him.

Shame and disgust consumed me, urging me to act swiftly. I managed to slip into my dress, my fingers trembling, before I gathered the courage to flee the room.

Elena betrayed me!

My best friend betrayed me!!

I kept chanting in my head, feeling my world crumbling right before my eyes.

Tears threatened to spill from my eyes as I made my way through the judgmental stares of the staff in the club. I knew I looked like a lunatic, wearing shredded clothes and walking on the road in broad daylight.

Somehow, I managed to hold myself together until I got into a taxi. As soon as the door closed, I broke down. I cried uncontrollably, despite the concerned glances from the driver in the rearview mirror.

My thoughts turned to my mom, and worry consumed me. What was going to happen to her? Would dad listen to my explanation? or would fleeing be my only option?

My heart pounded in my chest as I walked through the gates of our house. As soon as my eyes landed on the two black SUVs parked outside, my blood turned to ice. I knew instantly that they belonged to the Mafia.

My mind was racing, my brain struggling to process what was happening. I remembered seeing these cars when my father had discussed the marriage proposition. Panic set in as I made my way around the cars and into the house.

Inside, I found my father pacing, his face contorted with anger as he cursed in Italian on the phone. My stepmother and sister sat on the sofa, looking like dolls.

As soon as my father's eyes landed on me, his gaze took in my attire making his eyes widen before turning icy cold, resembling that of a predator ready to attack.

“You're no longer a virgin?" For a father, that was the first disgusting question my father had to throw at me. Horror gripped me instantly on seeing the twisted smiles on Carmilla and her mother's face.

Before I could even begin to process what was happening, my father's figure loomed over me. In an instant, I felt a sharp, stinging pain across my cheek as his hand made contact with my face. A cry escaped my lips as I crumbled to the floor, but he wasn't done yet.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair, shaking me violently as he spat out venomous words. "You slut! Just like your useless mother! How could you do this to me when my life is on the line? You're a worthless b***h!"

With a shove, he pushed me away, and then delivered another painful slap, this time hitting my eyes. My vision went black, and for a moment, I thought I'd gone blind. I cried out again as stars danced in front of my eyes.

My father let out a frustrated groan before grabbing a vase and throwing it to the floor in a fit of rage. I jumped in fright and scurried to a corner, curling up and sobbing as I rubbed my burning cheeks.

Through swollen eyes, I looked up at my father in confusion as he ordered, "Get dressed! Tu Figlia senza vergogna!" He switched to Italian, his words dripping with disgust. "You're getting married right now, or your mother is dead! And let me warn you, you better lie to him that you're a virgin or else..."

~ ~ ~

And just suddenly I found myself getting married to the first son of one of the most dangerous families in Sicily. My supposed husband was nowhere to be seen as I made my way to the Civil Bureau to sign the papers. My left eye was swollen, and my lips were cut and bruised, yet my father dragged me there without bothering to contact a makeup artist to conceal the damage.

It was evident that my father took sadistic pleasure in causing pain to my mother and me. He wanted to show everyone that he held power over us, that we were nothing but pawns in his twisted game.

As I signed the papers that would seal my fate, I felt as though I was signing away my life. One of Caruso's men took the papers, examining them before whispering something to another man, who then made a call, presumably to confirm that the deal had been done.

I stood in the midst of these dangerous men, feeling like a vulnerable prey surrounded by predators. My eyes darted around the room, desperately hoping that some sort of prince charming would burst through the doors to save me, just like in the fictional books I loved to read.

A bitter smile spread across my lips as I realized how absurd my thoughts were. Perhaps the trauma of the situation had addled my brain, causing me to imagine impossible scenarios. But deep down, I knew that no one was coming to save me. I was on my own in this nightmare.

My heart dropped like a stone and then clenched painfully, as the man holding my signed papers addressed my father. "She'll be coming with us now, Mr. Roberto Santoro. My Don has agreed to let go of the debt, but you must never cross his path again."

My father's eyes gleamed with a malicious joy as he eagerly nodded and shook the man's hand.

He turned to me, planting a cold kiss on my cheek that made my skin crawl. With a cruel glint in his eyes, he leaned in to whisper, "Behave yourself, Ariana, and make me proud. If the Ivanov's have any complaints, your mother will pay the price." He pulled away, flashing a fake smile that churned my stomach.

Carmilla shot me a disdainful look before leaning in to whisper something to her mother, which only added to my growing fear. I turned back to Ivanov's men, who were motioning for me to follow.

"Shouldn't I pack my things?" I blurted out, desperately hoping to wake from this nightmare.

"No!" one of the men snapped. "Don Domenico will provide everything you need. Please, follow us. We're waiting."

So that was his name... Domenico Ivanov.

I was about to become an Ivanov? A member of a ruthless mafia family? How many times had I sworn, even as a child, never to get involved with the mob?

Tears instantly filled my eyes just at the thought of how doomed I am. My life was about to be destroyed just like the way my mother had been ruined through my father's emotional and physical abuse.

I stepped out of the civil bureau and into the waiting SUVs that would take me back as an Ivanov's possession. We soon arrived at the mansion, and I was awestruck by the sight of hundreds of armed men and two mansions inside the vast compound. My heart raced as I surveyed the garage, unable to count the number of cars it contained.

As I entered the mansion, I felt inferior as I took in the luxurious surroundings. My eyes darted around, taking in the splendor, when suddenly I bumped into an artifact. I gasped and quickly caught it before it could fall. My face burned with shame as the men in the room stared at me, but no one said a word.

I was led to a waiting room, and once again my jaw dropped at the luxurious furnishings. Before I could take a seat, a man I assumed to be the butler entered the room and looked at me with disgust.

My chest seemed to tighten.

"È lei quella giusta?" he asked, pointing at me.

"Yes, she is the one," Ivanov's man answered.

The butler turned to me, his expression still one of disgust. "Hello, my name is Piero, the Butler of this mansion. I have a message," he said in a robotic tone. "Godfather's wife has ordered that you are not to sit on any of the chairs in this house until you have been disinfected from the germs you have brought from wherever you have come from! That's her order. Please step right outside, miss."

My face instantly paled.