Married To The Mafia

__________ . . . Marriage is supposed to be sacred. Love, respect and trust. These are indispensable in a marriage. But here I was, ready to walk down the aisle to marry a man who I didn't love, respect or trust. Heck, I didn't even know this man. He surely was not the young boy I once knew. No, the boy I knew would not have forced my father into coercing this union. This man, no, this beast that he had become, knew nothing but control and dominion. "I am sorry, Jo." My father, Martin, whispered as his clutch on my hand tightened. "I am so sorry I couldn't protect you, my princess." I gave him a sad smile. I was not happy. In fact, I was terrified. But I had to spare my frail old man the guilt of feeding his daughter to a monster. "Dad, he is Alexander. I know him. And I... trust him... to respect me." I was not going to lie further. I did not want to even mention love in this situation. The doors to the grand cathedral swung open with a heavy creak. The pianist began a sweet melody - what a joke - only to be taken over by a cellist who played with all the grandiose in the world. I looked over at the fate waiting for me at the end of the aisle. He faced away from me, not even bothering to acknowledge me. Good, I hope he won't acknowledge me for the rest of our 'union'. The rows of guests, all dressed in their finest, stared with either pity or contempt. I couldn't tell which was worse. It was clear that no one wanted this. That he didn't want this. Then why on earth did he push for this? I guess, I will never know. But I knew that I had to keep walking. The aisle stretched out like a prison sentence, and with every step that pushed me closer to him, my heart picked up pace like it was about to reach its limit and explode at any moment. Alexander stood tall and stoic, his broad shoulders squared, his long dark hair perfectly combed back, and tied into a bun. The tailored tuxedo hugged his powerful frame. As my father and I reached the altar, he turned around and our eyes met for the first time today. Alexander's gaze was cold, emotionless. It was his default look. But I always thought they were a bit colder towards me. My father's hand trembled as he handed my hand over to him, who didn't hold it for a second more than necessary. I suppressed a glare and turned to the minister. "We are gathered here today to witness the union of Joanne and Alexander," he began, his voice echoing through the big hall. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my shaking hands. Alexander didn't bother to look at me. The minister spoke words of love and commitment, and I had to suppress a scoff. This was not a union of love. This was a transaction. A deal made in the dark world of money and power, where words like love, loyalty and commitment had no business existing. As the minister continued, I glanced over at the groom. Alexander's eyes remained on the man, his expression unreadable. "Do you, Joanne, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" the minister intoned, his gaze flicking between us. I stared at the ring on my finger, my heavy engagement ring, more than two centuries old, once a proof of true love in the Knight family, now just a token of ownership. My voice was barely a whisper as I said, "I do." The words felt like a noose tightening around my neck. I don't have prior experience with marriage, but I am pretty certain that this is not how a woman is supposed to feel when getting married. "Do you, Alexander, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the minister prompted. Alexander's gaze remained unflinching, his voice cold and clear. "I do." The room was eerily silent. No applause, no happiness. Just silent. The minister cleared his throat, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "You may now kiss the bride," he announced, with a forced cheerfulness. Alexander leaned in, and for a moment, I felt his warm breath against my cheek. But instead of kissing me, he whispered, "Welcome to your new life, Joanne...Knight." The words sent a shiver down my spine. I did not like it. I did not like the way he said it. I did not like whatever it was supposed to me. "Same to you, Alexander Knight." I replied, c*****g my head up and staring at him head on. He leaned back slightly, a hint of surprise flashing across his features. Good, I was not going to let him think I was a pushover. The minister cleared his throat again, uncomfortable with our exchange. Alexander's hand found the back of my neck, and his lips were on mine. It was a swift, perfunctory kiss. It was a claim, not a declaration of love. The crowd remained silent, even as we pulled apart and turned to them. My father's eyes were closed, his face a mask of sorrow. The silence was finally broken by the sound of the first few guests standing up, a forced round of applause starting off. I recognized the initiator as Alexander's right hand man, Columbus. As we walked down the aisle together, he kept an arm's distance from me. As if I was infected with some big contagious disease. I swear I am going to strangle him. A white limo was waiting for us outside. "It will take you to the mansion." He gestured to the car. I raised a brow. "You are not coming?" I asked. I shouldn't have asked. But I was curious. And kids, we all know what killed the cat right? That's right, the bastard named curiosity. Alexander smirked. "I have better things to do with my time than breed you." The words hit me like a slap in the face. I clenched my jaw. I was not going to stay and listen to disrespectful s**t like that. I turned around and walked to the limo. The driver held the door open, and I slid in, trying to keep my dignity intact. Just as the limo was about to pull away, I lowered the glass and put my head out. "If I wanted to be bred like some horse, I would have gone for a stallion. Not a freaking mule." The corner of his mouth twitched, the only sign of his amusement. "You have fire in you, Joanne. I will give you that." "And I swear I will burn you down with this same fire one day." I mumbled to myself as the limo sped away. "One day." . . . _____________