Chapter 2: You'll Mary him, Like it or Not
1225 Words
[Sloane's POV]
I stood there still trying to make sense of what the caller had just said. Then suddenly, the door burst open.
Dad stumbled inside, and for a moment I didn't recognize him. The mud on his face, the trembling hands, the hollow, broken look in his eyes…it was like I was staring at a stranger wearing my father's skin.
"Dad." I crossed the room toward him. "What did they do to you? Who was that man? What does he want from us?”
He stared at his hands like they belonged to someone else.
"The casinos…" he whispered. "The Delvecchio Syndicate. I lost everything, Sloane. The offshore accounts, the deeds to the shipping lines, the estate. Every single cent."
I stopped walking.
"What do you mean everything?"
"Every. Single. Cent." He said it again, slower, like repetition could soften it.
"That's not possible." My voice came out strange, too calm, too controlled. "Mother spent her entire life building this family. You couldn't have just… it takes years to lose what she built. How long has this been going on?"
He said nothing.
"How long, Dad?"
Still nothing.
"Look at me!" My voice cracked through the room like a whip. He flinched. Good.
"How long have you been gambling away everything she died to leave us?"
"It doesn't matter how long…" He said
"It matters to me!"
"It's gone, Sloane!" He finally looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and wild. "Do you
understand what I'm telling you? It's gone. None of that matters now. What matters is that Antonio Delvecchio is coming back."
I went very still. "Coming back for what?"
Dad looked away again. His jaw worked silently.
"Coming back for what, Dad?"
"He doesn't negotiate." His voice dropped to almost nothing. He takes blood, Sloane. He was gonna f*****g shoot me. Right there in the courtyard, in the mud, in front of everyone. He had the gun pressed here…" His trembling fingers touched the side of his own head. "Right here."
"But he didn't." My eyes narrowed.
"Why didn't he?"
The silence that followed was the most terrifying thing I had ever heard.
"Dad." My voice dropped to a whisper. "What did you give him?"
He crossed the room and sank into the armchair by the window, suddenly looking twenty years older. He pressed his face into his hands.
"What did you give him?"
"There was no other way…"
"What did you give him?!"
"You!" He shot to his feet, the word exploding out of him. "I gave him you, alright? He asked, and I said yes, because it was either that or a bullet. He wants you. He'll clear the debt… every cent… in exchange for the marriage. That's the deal."
The room tilted.
I heard the words.
But they refused to arrange themselves into something my brain could accept.
"Say that again," I said quietly.
"Sloane…"
"Say it again. Slowly. Because I need to make absolutely sure I heard you
correctly."
He straightened his jacket, avoiding my eyes. "You're going to marry Antonio Delvecchio. It's the only way to…"
The laugh that came out of me wasn't funny at all. It was sharp and hollow and a little unhinged. "You sold me?” I took one step toward him. "You knelt in the mud and you sold your own daughter to a mafia killer?"
"I saved this family…"
"What family?!" My voice broke apart. "You gambled away everything Mother left us and then you sold me to cover it! What exactly did you save? Your own skin?" I was shaking now, the words coming faster than I could stop them.
"She built this legacy for us. She worked herself to death for us. And you handed the last thing she had left…me…to a monster. You didn't save anything. You just made sure you'd survive the wreckage."
Something in his expression hardened. The guilt evaporated, replaced by a cold, flat look I didn't recognize on his face.
"Antonio's men are already surrounding the estate," he said. "He'll be at the gates by dusk to collect you. You will be ready. You will be dressed. And you will walk out of this house with your head up."
"I will die before I let that man touch me."
"You don't have a choice."
"I will always have a choice…"
"Not today." He grabbed my shoulders, his grip hard and final. "This is bigger than you, Sloane. This is bigger than both of us. You don't know what he is. You don't know what he's capable of.
If you run, if you fight him, if you embarrass me in front of him… he won't just punish you. He will burn everything left to the ground and he will enjoy it." His voice dropped to a ragged whisper. "Please. Just do this one thing. Just this once. Be useful."
I looked at him for a long moment. At the stranger my father had become.
"Let go of me," I said quietly.
He released my shoulders.
"I will never forgive you for this."
Something crossed his face… grief, maybe, or the ghost of it. But he said nothing.
He walked out and bolted the door behind him.
I plunged forward, but it was already too late. The door was locked and once again I was locked in feeling hopeless.
"Dad!!!" I lunged, throwing my entire weight against the wood, pounding my fists until my knuckles cracked against the grain. "Open this door! Open it right now! You can't do this to me!”
“There's no escaping from Antonio Delvecchio” his voice came from outside the door. “Get ready Sloane, he'll be here very soon and you don't have a choice. Not anymore.”
His footsteps faded down the hallway, leaving me in stillness.
***************
I'd escaped through the window. The drop knocked the air out of my lungs the moment I hit the ground. I crashed onto the gravel with my hands and knees, mud splashing beneath me as the searing bolt of pain shot through my ribs.
For a moment, the world went blank.
No sound. No breath. No thought.
Just pain…white-hot and all-consuming.
I forced myself to my feet and ran into the darkness of the woods. Within seconds, my silk nightgown was soaked through, plastered to my skin as rain lashed my face hard enough to sting. My bare feet stumbled over roots and rocks, each step sending a sharp burst of pain through my battered ribs.
I didn't slow down.
I couldn't afford to.
Because stopping meant facing what had just happened.
And I wasn't ready for that.
By the time I stumbled out onto the main highway, I was shaking so badly my legs could barely hold me up. The road stretched endlessly in both directions, empty and deserted. Rain poured from the sky in relentless sheets, turning the asphalt into a shimmering river of black.
I stepped off the curb.
Then
SCREECH…!
A black armored SUV swerved hard across both lanes and stopped inches from my knees. Every nerve in my body seized.
The window rolled down.
His charcoal-black eyes held mine through the rain, pinning me in place . There was no hint of mercy in them. Just certainty.
"Get in," his voice was low, yet commanding, sending chills down my spine.
“Antonio Delvecchio?”
- Writer
