Chapter Six
1704 Words
My hand froze on the door handle. I knew that accent of order so well. A shower of recognition washed me over. Now I can understand.
With a smirk, I sniffed, “Engagement?”
I met their eyes with a smile that didn't reach my eyes. “To get engaged to one of your ally mobsters?” Then paused with a challenge. "No, thanks. I'm fine with my normal life, raising my son.”
My heavy words echoed through the room. No one should say No to Papa. Their expressions were varied, though.
But Papa’s gaze was the one that caught my attention for a brief moment. He stared deep into my eyes as if he were trying to read me.
“That’s a brave talk from a little brat to say to modsters,” Luca sniffed back with a sarcastic tone, emphasizing the last word. He was now sitting on one of the wide couches.
What was wrong with him hating me that much? We didn't see each other for six years. He had changed, not just from the outside. I could barely recognize the Luca I knew inside this cruel, ruthless man.
“The engagement has already been settled, Mila. There is no going back,” Papa encountered.
“Then you manipulated me to get me here?” I stated and stared with an accusing look at Luca and Marco. The latter met my gaze with silence, he was avoiding my eyes all the time. While Luca replied without sparing me a glance as he scrolled through his phone, “It wasn’t that we couldn’t bring you otherwise.”
Indeed. They could. But on my dead body, I’ll agree on that.
I closed my eyes, hoping for them to disappear from my sight. I inhaled a long breath and exhaled it. I should have seen this coming. I shouldn’t trust them.
“I’m not the same naive girl you knew. I have changed, Papa. You made me change,” I said quietly.
“This engagement is for your own good, mia figlia,” Papa pressed.
My daughter? Did he really think by calling me that I’d agree?
Why do I feel he has changed though? He seemed defeated, not as powerful as I knew him to be. Was it because of his illness? Or was he just getting old?
“You lost me that night, Papa, you pushed me away without a second thought. And here you’re now, brought me not out of the warmth of your heart, but to use me as a scapegoat for whatever you had f****d up with the Castellanos.”
Recardo approached me with a warm smile, “You know he did that for your own good back then, don't you?”
I sniffed, not believing a word. “I just wanna my son to have a normal life. You know, to play as a kid. Live his childhood. Not to be imprisoned in a luxury mansion,” I said firmly before I turned around and left the study room.
I wasn’t going to discuss this any longer. The past was the past. And that’s it. And I wasn't going to let my Angelo live the life I hated.
Coming here was a mistake, and I’m going to fix it.
Without a word, I lifted Angelo in my arms, he was eating cookies and sitting next to Mama and Aunt Merinda. Mama was taken aback by the sudden act. But I didn’t give her the chance to react or ask.
I headed straight to the main door. I wasn’t going to stay here for more than half a second, even though it was midnight already. Two guards stood before the door. They were Zac and Julio.
Without even a word of greetings, I ordered, “Step aside.” They had never listened to my orders before, will they now?
“Sorry, Mila. Il Don ordered us not to let you out.”
I bit down on my lips. “Why should I get engaged to that Castellano? You must know something.”
“This is Il Don’s order. We don’t know more than that,” Julio mumbled.
So, it was my father’s idea.
I opened my mouth, but I didn’t say anything as I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around to see the three brothers standing before me. They were all tall, dark, exuding power with a masculine physique. Recardo was the longest of them, Marco the most muscular, and Luca was the most dangerous and ruthless one of them besides the most handsome.
“You talk much, Julio.” Luca’s voice came cold and low in a scary way, even though he looked so calm.
“Let me out, now. This is a kidnapping.” I shouted.
Luca c****d a brow. “So?”
His cold reply made my blood boil.
Think, think, think, Mika.
But nothing came to my mind. The heavy weight of Angelo’s body, who was wrapping his small hands around my neck and burying his face there, made it hard to be patient to think.
I went past them and hissed, “Going to talk to Il Don then.”
I put Angelo down on his feet. Bent down to his level, kissed his forehead and combed his hair with my fingers, then said with a warm smile, “Stay here, honey. I’ll be back soon to go home. Okay?”
“Are these bad guys?” he asked with fear in his eyes.
I stared back at my foster brothers. Then back to Angelo as I sighed and mumbled, “No, sweetheart. They’re family. We just have a misunderstanding. Stay here, okay?”
He nodded, and I was about to turn and head to the study when Merinda said with sarcasm, “If you are going to try your luck and talk with Il Don, Gerald is no longer Il Don, darling, Luca is.”
Her words made me freeze.
I drafted my eyes to him, knowing things would become more difficult for me by having him as Il Don.
“You’re Il Don della mafia now?” I wasn't asking, though; I was trying to assimilate the new information.
“You have an option to leave, Mila,” Luca said nonchalantly, opening and closing the cap of his lighter. His words sent a chill down my spine. I somehow knew there was no good behind them.
“Leave Angelo here, and you're free to go.”
My heart pounded hard.
This was unexpected.
“If you don’t want to pay for your sin and betrayal, he will. It’s good to teach a young boy how to be Man Made.”
“You're a psychopath,” I snapped.
He laughed as if I had just complimented him.
At that moment. I knew I got stuck. No one could help me. And I know better to call the cops. They’re like toys between their fingers.
I felt trapped. Defeated. I learned long ago: life wasn’t fair. It was not black and white. Life was something in between. At least the life of the Made Men.
When I didn’t say anything more. Luca ran his tongue over his white teeth and sucked. With a slight nod of his head, he said, “Follow me!”
Heading back to the study after he firmly stated, “No one interrupts us.”
The study was empty, and Papa was no longer there.
Once the door was shut behind us, I taunted, “Congratulations on the new position!”
He didn’t comment, he just stood there staring into my eyes—still playing with his lighter’s cap—which made me blush. I hated that. So, I tried to speak to break the tension that was growing more and more between us. I decided to use logic. “Listen. Really. I can’t do this, Luca.”
His eyes went dark and made my heart beat fast.
“I’m not asking if you can or can't, Mila. This is an order.”
Fuck logic.
“Everyone has to pay their debt.” He narrowed his gaze and added with a threatening tone, “Or they pay dearly.”
This wasn’t Luca I adored, trusted. The old Luca would take me into his arms, patting my head. This Luca was cold and distant.
I gritted my teeth, stopping myself from telling him to f**k himself. But yet, maybe stubbornness wasn’t going to lead me to anything with him. I lived with Made Men long enough to know how things work.
“I know you can figure out another solution with the Castellano, can’t you?”
“Why would I find a solution with them?”
“Emm, isn’t that why you are forcing me to this engagement?”
He sneered, “No.”
“Ow,” I mumbled.
“Do you want to know why, Mila?” He narrowed his gaze at me.
I nodded.
He took a few steps forward, and I retreated. I hated my defensive reaction, though.
Luca held my chin between his fingers and stared into my eyes. From the look in his gaze, I knew it was something bad.
Our faces were inches away. Eyes locked. A fire of hatred in them. He tightened his grip on my chin and fixed his eyes on my lips. The way he stared at me was as if he was about to kiss me. “Because you’re a w***e in La Cosa Nostra people’s eyes, Mila. Men will try to get a way with you for a quick f**k. Free ride. A slut they can have fun with.”
I gasped. His words were like a dagger digging into my heart. I felt pain clenching in my chest, my throat went dry.
“Do you know why now?” I could feel the disgust in his voice. I stumbled a few steps back after he pushed me away from him.
“Screw them,” I hissed. My voice was above a whisper.
Holding my head high, a desperate attempt to seem strong—unaffected—refusing to show him weakness. Even though I already knew everything must be written all over my face.
- Writer
