The Untypical Marriage

Kira Romano had dreamed of her wedding since she was ten years old. Not because she loved fairytales. Girls born into mafia blood did not grow up believing in fairytales. They grew up believing in alliances. Power. Obedience. Blood debts. And marriage. But Matteo Vasilios had never felt like a duty to her. He had been her first friend. Her first protector. Her first love. So when Kira stood in front of the massive mirror inside the bridal suite of the Romano estate, dressed in a gown worth more than most people’s homes, she truly believed she was one of the lucky few women born into their world. Because for once, love and duty were the same thing. “You’re shaking.” Kira looked up through the mirror. Her cousin Sofia stood behind her adjusting the veil carefully. “I’m nervous,” Kira whispered. “No.” Sofia gave her a look. “You’re terrified.” Kira tried smiling. It didn’t work. Outside the enormous windows, black luxury cars continued flooding the estate grounds one after another. Armed men in dark suits stood at every entrance. Helicopters circled overhead. This wasn’t just a wedding. This was a public declaration of power between the two strongest mafia families in the world. The Romanos. And the Vasilios empire. For twenty years their alliance had controlled entire governments, ports, underground markets, politicians, weapons routes, and half the criminal networks stretching across Europe and America. Today’s marriage would make that alliance untouchable. And Kira was the centerpiece. “You still have time to run,” Sofia teased lightly. Kira laughed softly. “Where exactly would I run to?” “That’s the problem.” Sofia sighed. “There’s nowhere in the world powerful enough to hide you.” The words settled heavily in the room. Because they were true. Kira Romano was not just another mafia daughter. She was Vittorio Romano’s firstborn child. The princess of the American underworld. Every enemy knew her name. Every ally feared her bloodline. And every decision regarding her life had already been made long before she was old enough to understand them. A knock sounded. Then another. The room immediately stiffened. Sofia moved toward the door carefully before opening it slightly. One of the guards bowed his head. “The guests are seated.” Kira inhaled slowly. This was it. The day she had waited for her entire life. The day she would become Matteo’s wife. Her heart pounded painfully as she rose from the chair. The dress flowed around her like liquid ivory. Diamonds glittered against her throat. Her dark hair fell in soft waves beneath the veil. Beautiful. Perfect. Prepared for sacrifice. “You look like royalty,” Sofia whispered. Kira smiled faintly. “I feel like prey.” The cathedral was breathtaking. Thousands of candles illuminated the marble walls while orchestral music echoed through the massive hall. Politicians. Crime lords. Billionaires. Killers. Every powerful figure worth knowing sat inside that church. And all of them turned to stare the moment the doors opened. Kira stepped inside on her father’s arm. Vittorio Romano looked every bit the terrifying king the world feared. Silver threaded through his dark hair, but age had not softened him. If anything, it made him colder. More dangerous. People moved aside without even realizing it when he walked. Kira kept her eyes ahead. Toward the altar. Toward Matteo. Except— Her steps faltered. Her breath stopped. That wasn’t Matteo. A murmur spread through the cathedral instantly. Confusion. Shock. Fear. The man standing at the altar wore black prison clothes beneath an expensive coat draped over his shoulders. His wrists were bruised. A fresh scar cut across his mouth. And chains hung loosely from one hand like someone had removed them moments earlier. Kira’s entire body went cold. No. No no no. This had to be a mistake. Her grip tightened around her father’s arm. “Papa…” But Vittorio did not look at her. His expression remained emotionless. Controlled. As if this had been planned all along. The stranger slowly lifted his eyes toward her. And Kira forgot how to breathe. Dark. That was the first thing she noticed. His eyes were impossibly dark. Not brown. Not black. Something colder. Something empty. He looked at her the way wolves looked at bleeding animals. Not with hunger. With certainty. The orchestra had stopped playing. Whispers erupted throughout the cathedral. “What is this?” “Where’s Matteo?” “Why is Adrian here?” Adrian. The name hit her instantly. Adrian Vasilios. The eldest son. The monster. The devil of the Italian mafia. The man rumored to have burned entire organizations to the ground before he was twenty-one. The heir everyone feared. The son who vanished three years ago after being arrested during an international raid. The son everyone believed would die in prison. Kira stared at him in horror. This wasn’t possible. Matteo was supposed to be here. Matteo. Not him. Adrian tilted his head slightly as if studying her panic. Then— He smiled. It was not a kind smile. It was the smile of a man watching something break. “What is this?” Kira whispered again, this time louder. Still, her father did not answer. Instead, another figure rose from the front row. Don Luciano Vasilios. Head of the Italian empire. Even age could not weaken the terrifying authority radiating from him. He approached slowly. “The arrangement has changed.” Kira felt sick. “What?” Luciano’s gaze remained calm. “You will marry Adrian.” The cathedral exploded into murmurs. Kira stared at him like she had misheard. “No.” Her voice cracked. “No, that’s not funny.” Nobody smiled. Nobody moved. Reality crashed into her all at once. This was real. Her father finally spoke. “Matteo is dead.” The world stopped. Kira blinked once. Twice. “What…?” “Three days ago,” Vittorio said coldly. “There was an attack near the Sicilian docks.” Kira shook her head instantly. “No.” “He died before sunrise.” “No!” Her scream echoed violently through the cathedral. People looked away. Some out of pity. Most out of fear. Kira stumbled backward. Sofia rushed forward immediately to steady her, but Kira pushed her away violently. “No,” she whispered again. “No, no, no…” Matteo couldn’t be dead. He promised her. He promised. Tears blurred her vision as she looked desperately around the cathedral. Nobody denied it. Nobody comforted her. Because everybody already knew. Everybody except her. Her chest tightened painfully. “You lied to me…” Her father’s jaw hardened. “It was necessary.” “You let me walk down the aisle thinking—” “This marriage still happens.” Kira looked at him in disbelief. “Are you insane?” The room became deadly quiet. Nobody spoke to Vittorio Romano that way. Nobody. But Kira couldn’t stop. “You expect me to marry his brother hours after finding out Matteo is dead?!” “Not hours,” Adrian said quietly for the first time. His voice was deep. Calm. Terrifyingly calm. “He died four days ago.” Kira turned toward him sharply. Adrian watched her without emotion. “They kept it from you because grief makes people reckless.” Hatred exploded inside her instantly. “You knew?” “Yes.” “And you’re standing there waiting to marry me anyway?” His gaze never wavered. “I wasn’t given a choice either.” Something about the way he said it unsettled her. Not bitter. Not angry. Just factual. Like choices no longer existed for him. Luciano stepped forward again. “This alliance cannot collapse. Enemies are already moving after Matteo’s death. Adrian takes his place.” Kira laughed shakily. “You’re all monsters.” Nobody denied it. Because they were. She looked at Adrian again. This close, he was even more frightening. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dangerous stillness. Scars visible beneath his throat. A face too beautiful to belong to someone rumored to enjoy killing. But it was his eyes that terrified her most. There was no warmth in them. Nothing human. Only violence carefully restrained behind perfect control. “I won’t do it,” she whispered. Vittorio’s expression darkened. “You will.” “No.” “Kira.” “No!” The cathedral vibrated with tension instantly. Guards subtly shifted positions. Hands moved near concealed weapons. One wrong word could start a war inside a church. Kira realized that suddenly. This was bigger than her. Bigger than grief. Entire empires stood balanced on this marriage. If she refused— Blood would follow. Adrian seemed to notice the realization settling across her face. Slowly, he stepped closer. Chains clinked softly from his wrist. He stopped directly in front of her. Close enough for her to smell smoke and expensive cologne beneath traces of blood. Close enough to feel the terrifying weight of his presence. “Look at me,” he said quietly. Kira refused. His fingers suddenly gripped her chin firmly. Gasps spread through the cathedral. Nobody touched Vittorio Romano’s daughter without permission. But Adrian didn’t seem concerned. He forced her eyes toward him. “You think you’re the only person who lost something this week?” Kira glared at him through tears. “Don’t touch me.” For one second— Something dangerous flickered in his expression. Not anger. Worse. Recognition. Then he released her abruptly. “If you walk away now,” Adrian said calmly, “this cathedral becomes a graveyard before sunset.” Silence. Cold horrifying silence. Because everyone knew he was telling the truth. Kira looked around slowly. At the armed guards. At the rival families watching carefully. At her father. At Luciano. At the people already calculating power shifts. One refusal. That was all it would take. And hundreds would die. Her breathing became uneven. This wasn’t marriage. This was execution. Sofia gripped her hand tightly. “Kira…” But there was nothing anybody could say. Kira looked at Adrian one final time. “I hate you.” He nodded once. “I know.” Then he held out his hand. The bruised hand still marked by prison chains. Kira stared at it for several long seconds. Before finally— Slowly— She placed hers in his. And the cathedral erupted into applause. Like they weren’t witnessing the destruction of a girl’s entire life.