THE MAFIA KING'S BRIDE

ARYA “Do you Arya Petrova take Viktor Soclov to be your lawfully wedded husband?” I hear a distant voice calling my name. Then I come back to earth. Where am I? I look at myself. I am in a long flowing white dress with a white veil on my head. I turn to the congregation, and I see everybody in different outfits looking at me with varying degrees of smiles and apprehension. Why is everybody wearing outing clothes? Isn’t it just Sunday? Why am I wearing a wedding dress? Why is my name being called to get married? Lost in thoughts, I suddenly feel a tug on my elbow. Not so soft, but not hard enough to bruise either. I wince a little at the tug and turn to the foolish person holding my elbow, about to give him/her a tongue-lashing, when my eyes meet with the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in my life. His grey eyes and pitch black hair give a nice contrast to his light brown skin. My eyes travel down to his lips and then his moustache, I watch his moustache move as his mouth moves, so enthralling. Oh Mama Mia. I’ve fallen in love. “Arya!” I hear a harsh whisper again. I look up to meet his gaze once more, and suddenly it all comes rushing to me. I am truly getting married today! To my long time enemy, Viktor Soclov. ... “You are going to marry Viktor Soclov” This is the first sentence that greets my ears when I step into my father’s office. Yeah right. Like hell I would. I mutter in my head, internally rolling my eyes. For a long time, my father had used Viktor’s name to threaten me and put me on my best behaviour. Thankfully for him, it worked like magic. For a long time—no for centuries—the Petrovas and the Soclovs have been on loggerheads. That reminds me! They are the perfect definition of those families in Romeo and Juliet. Considering the Soclovs have have only one son and the Petrovas have only have one daughter, it would have been classical Romeo falling in love with Juliet. Except, this is the opposite. That mf is the devil in human clothing. I am not one to be bullied. My mother has always said it. “Arya, you gave me more trouble than your brother ever did.” They weren’t lying. I feared nobody. Not even my father, the head of mafia. But Viktor? Once I see his shadow, I shiver. I cannot forget how he tore my teddy in shreds, almost drowned me in a pool, killed my pet and let me take the blame. I may be stubborn, but I am not killer. Somehow my dad found out my fear of Viktor, and as much as he disliked the Soclovs, it was a relief for him to know that he had a weak point he could use to put me in my place And it worked like fire. Every time, “I would send you to Viktor as his wife.” “I will ask Viktor to take you with him. I’m tired of you.” “I’ll marry you off to Lucas so you’d be quieter.” That has been my dad’s biggest blackmail on me. It wore off though, as time flew and I didn’t see Viktor again since he travelled out of the country for studies. So my dad saying I’d marry Viktor right now, is like the biggest joke of the century. Who does he think he is deceiving? I’m no longer that naive Arya. I’m unfazed. “Arya?” Dad calls my name again, bringing me back to this planet. “Yes dad?” I reply. “Did you hear what I said just now?” He asks. “Oh, that?” “I heard you, Dad, but I know you’re either joking or threatening me since I broke your favourite china a few hours ago and you must have found out,” I reply leisurely, taking a seat and stretching my long legs on the table. Can’t lie, I’m the perfect definition of drop-dead gorgeous. I twirl my wavy blonde hair, and pout my full pinkish-orange lips. My eyes travel to my long pale-skinned legs, well taken care of and nails neatly done. I hope my future man doesn’t have fetish for legs. If he does, he’d never have enough of this. “You broke my china?!” I hear my dad say, jogging me out of my thoughts. Damn! I zone out faster than a jet train. I see my dad’s face tighten in anger, and I knew I’ve just exposed myself. Ouch! “I’m really sorry, Dad.” “It was an accident,” I apologize quickly, immediately putting my legs down and sitting up straight making a really sorry face. No, I’m not sorry. But trust me to pretend like I am. The key is escaping my dad’s anger because it’s not always rosy, and I’m not about to get any injuries on my body. Guess my charm works because my dad’s face relaxes, gradually letting go of the frown that looks etched into his face. “Well, we’ll settle that later. We have a more important matter to discuss.” Papa replies. “You will marry Viktor in a month’s time.” Huh? Is Pops kidding? “Wait a minute, Dad.” “It seems like there’s some mistake here.” “Do you plan on telling this to another lady, or you were just joking?” I ask. Papa keeps quiet and looks at me intently. No. No, no, no. This can’t be. “Baba, it’s a joke, right?” I laugh nervously, shifting my weight from one bum to the other on the chair. “It’s not April fools, you know, and that joke is quite expensive,” I try to lighten the air, willing myself to believe that Papa was joking. But his face remains stoic and expressionless. With that look that says my word is final. All my hope evaporates. Suddenly it feels like there’s a heavy ball stuck in my throat that I cannot push down with my saliva. I manage to gulp hard, my heart beating fast in my chest like it wants to jump out and leave me here. “I see you are flustered.” “Go to your room and rest. Give me a positive answer in 24hours.” Papa says. I feel wet sensation seeping through my clothes and touching my skin. I touch it, trying to understand what is going on. Another drop falls on the same spot. Then I realize It’s coming from my face. I am crying. “Papa, don’t do this to me,” I beg, almost going down on my knees before him. “Pozhaluysta, Papa.” “I can’t marry Viktor.” My knees hit the ground before I even realize what I am doing. My father rushes to me, trying to stop me before my knees touch the floor. “Arya.” “Don’t kneel. Please.” I sob even harder, terrified of marrying that monster. I can never forget the day he pushed me down from a storey building after finding out my fear of heights. I may look strong on the outside, but I’m incredibly soft on the inside. I’ve guarded my heart for years, but Viktor has a way of bringing that soft side out and then shattering into pieces. “Papa...” I whisper, looking at him in despair and a little hope. Papa helps me to a chair and hands me a piece of tissue to wipe my eyes while he sits beside me. “My dear” “It is not my wish to let you go.” “But we are poor, Arya.” “We are poor.” Papa’s voice cracks and I see unshed tears in his eyes. I look at him again and suddenly notice how much he has aged. I didn’t see it before because he was always the strong, agile man I knew. But sitting front of me... My Papa is growing old. His white hair has multiplied. His eyes are heavier with exhaustion Wrinkles line his once proud face. Then it dawns on me. Why Mama no longer throws those extravagant parties. Why Papa shouts about waste. Unable to stop myself, I reach for him. I hug Papa tightly, inhaling the faint aromatic perfume he always wears. I’ve missed him. Tears threaten to fall again. The hug lasts only for two minutes, but feels like a lifetime. I’ve been so busy being the black sheep that I never stopped to check on my family. What a selfish child I have been.