Claiming my possession

Chapter 2

Today was the beginning of the end of my life.

Anthony Romero is 25 years old. He is well beyond my years and I knew nothing of his personality, only that he was a cold blooded killer and was incredibly skilled in torture. My older cousin Sophia had once told me of his handsome features but she said he was cold as ice. And that scared me too, if he was to be capo of the Los-Angeles familia that meant he’d have to be just a strict, cold, and merciless like my father was.

I had never thought I’d marry a man like my father. I had always thought I’d marry for love— for my own reasons, at my own time, surrounded by family and happiness. Though I shouldn’t have been so naive, after all, my whole life had been controlled by my father, by the mob.

My friends, my activities, and my education; even the clothes I was allowed to wear had to meet certain standards.

My sister Eliza and I walked down the large flight of stairs together, hand in hand. I tried to calm myself down; after all I had done this plenty of times before, my family always had fancy dinner parties. This was no different. I willed myself not show any weakness, I was a Martin Del Campo, my father would not be very happy if I allowed fear to control me. I wasn’t supposed to know of the engagement, so if I did or said anything that my father deemed inappropriate, I’d surely get punished.

“Isabella you look beautiful,” Sophia’s voice cut into my thoughts. I looked up at her, she was already 18 years old and she looked like a super-model. Her blonde bob swayed effortlessly as her beautiful brown eyes looked upon me with gentleness and a hint of pity. She always carried herself well; she always looked like she belonged on the cover of Vogue. She was a f*****g lady.

I wondered why they couldn’t give her to Anthony instead. But I soon found myself feeling guilty over the horrid thought that had crossed me. Sophia was always looking out for me and my sisters like we were her sisters. She lived in our neighbourhood.

Sophia was always looking out for me and my sisters like we were her sisters. She lived in our neighborhood and was always around, being a great cousin. I supposed she needed the company since she was an only child.

“Where are we going father?” I asked, as I noticed we were leaving the guests behind us, walking into the direction where he conducted most of his cruel decisions.

To my office, there is someone you need to meet.” I glanced back and noticed my brother Armando following quietly behind us. I tried to smile at him but he simply avoided my eyes.

He must be feeling guilty. Armando hadn’t even woken me up with a birthday present— something which he did every year for me and my sisters. Serves him right for not telling me of father’s plan sooner, maybe I could have come up with a better argument had I known about this before.

My father opened the door to his office and I walked in slowly, immediately recognizing Anthony and his father Roman, the current capo of Los-Angeles. To Anthony’s Left was another man, who I assumed was related to them because he had the same pitch black dark hair as Anthony and his father did. They all had a different shade of stone-cold blue eyes.

But my eyes quickly directed focus on Anthony. He was so much bigger than I, twice my height and so well built; the space around him radiated power and strength. He could crush me with one hand, of that I had no doubt. He was wearing a tightly fitted black suit; his dark hair tightly combed over and parted—looking like such a business man.

But I knew better. He was a killer. And I was to be his bride. He had tattoos covering his neck and disappearing down below into his attire, and as my eyes roamed his body they only landed right back on those icy cool departed eyes.

I felt myself shiver in fear. I couldn’t deny he was handsome, but he was killer and the way he was looking at me only made my fear fester.

His gaze never left me, almost burning right into me, seeing through me, like I wasn’t even there. Like I was a ghost, completely transparent; he would always know what I was thinking. He gave me a knowing look, like he knew I didn’t want him, he knew I didn’t want this marriage— hell I didn’t even want to be in this room.

I couldn’t break myself away from his gaze though; I could almost see hatred towards me in those dark blue eyes. Like the idea of marrying me was a joke, something he was being forced to do, as was I.

“You must be the lovely Isabella,” Anthony’s father said, it was meant to be a compliment, but his voice was devoid of emotion and his face betrayed no sign of endearment. He looked like a tired old man, conducting business as usual, saying the words my father needed to hear as to not take insult.

My brother came to my side and placed a hand on my arm, I was so thankful in that moment, because I almost felt like my knee’s wanted to give up on my weight.

“Have a seat Isabella,” my brother’s kind voice broke the awkward silence that had befallen upon us, he was trying to reassure me. Armando directed me to a large arm chair before my father’s desk and I let myself sit. There was no point in acting strong in a room find with killers.

I was sitting as all of the men stood; it was painfully obvious how much they all disliked each other. The reality that I was in an office with both the capo of New York and Los-Angeles, and their heirs sunk in.

This is not how I thought I’d be spending my 14th birthday. Where was my mother? Why couldn’t she be here and offer me even just a little bit of comfort? Surely she knew I’d need it.

“Isabella I’m sure you know of the troubles that have faced both of our families in the recent years,” my father started, and I felt myself nod almost robotically.

“In order to bring our families closer together, we must once again draw a new pact, a new alliance so that together we can defeat our enemies. No more Italian blood should be shed in vain.”

He paused and I looked down at my hands, fumbling on my lap. It’s not like he actually wanted my input anyway. I knew I was only supposed to nod and listen.

But the fear that had pooled deep in the pit of my stomach, festering, was now starting to consume me. I was too young to marry. I hadn’t even finished school yet. Was I supposed to have a baby right away? What would I do? How could I get out of this? Would I dare deny my father, the capo of the New York familia? How could he want me to marry someone who was 25 years old, almost twice my age! Would I have to leave my home before I even turned 15? How was any of this okay?

I could feel all the blood drain from my face.

“Isabella, you have been promised to Anthony Romero, heir of Roman Romero, capo of the Los-Angeles familia.”

In that moment my eyes met Anthony’s again but his face betrayed no emotion, like there was a wall in front of him blocking me, like he hadn’t just heard he was going to marry a 14 year old girl. Even at my age I knew this was perverted.

“But father, he’s so old,” I said, barley a whisper, knowing how Roman could have taken that as a direct insult to his son.

I didn’t care.

My eyes never left my husband to be. And in that moment, I saw a slight movement of his lips; they twitched slightly upwards like the beginnings of a smile were to form. It never did.

Roman laughed outright loud, no restraint.

My brother tensed at their reaction beside me and I realized Roman was laughing at me. By the look in Anthony’s eyes, he too found me amusing.

“Isabelle you will show respect to your future husband.” My father barked, almost looking embarrassed. “You are to sign this contract,” he placed some papers in front of me and I could only stare, completely at a loss for words.

“But father I haven’t even finished school…you can’t really ask me to marry him. Sophia is much older and wiser, and prettier, I’m sure she’s ready to fulfill her duties to the familia,” the words left my mouth before I even had a chance to think them through.

I was a serious b***h. I hoped Sophia never found out what I just said.

My father’s eyes narrowed dangerously at me. I knew that look, if I didn’t submit, I’d get a lashing of the belt tonight, and I’d soon submit regardless.

I gulped.

“You are not going be married this year. You will be married in five years, this is simply a contract stating that both families are satisfied with the terms, including the bride and groom to be.” He said it slowly, almost daring me to say one more thing.

I didn’t.

“You will sign this contract, Isabella,” the warning was clear. I nodded; picked up the pen he handed to me and signed.

“Good girl,” my father praised.

I looked up at Anthony again and he seemed unimpressed. He seemed almost bored. Like we weren’t moving fast enough for him… Like he had already done his part and he was ready to go home.

“Isabella, father, Adonis and I are going to step outside and we’re going to let you talk to Anthony in private for a few minutes.” Armando said, more gently than my father would have liked.

They all started moving towards the door except for my brother and Anthony. My brother placed his hands on me and leaned into my ear, speaking only so I could hear him. “If he tries to touch you, scream and I’ll come kick his ass.”

He shot a look of warning towards Anthony before finally exiting and leaving us alone.

I started to visibly shake with fear; my father had never done this before. The men in my life that I was allowed to talk to were mostly family and my two guards Lucas and Allesandro. I was never alone with any males who were not part of the family. Not to mention I always had a choice and could leave when I wanted.

Now, he had thrown me into the arms of a wolf that looked about ready to feast on his prey.

I didn’t think it possible but Anthony’s eyes turned colder and he glared at me, like I was the most awful thing that had ever happened to him, like he wanted nothing more than to leave.

Almost as much as I did…at least we had that in common?

He cleared his throat and he reached into his pocket, bringing out a small black velvety box…I knew what that was. He opened it and inside was a ring, a large diamond staring me in the face, shining quite brightly.

“I am happy you’ve accepted my proposal,” he voice was so deep and emotionless; it came from deep within his chest.

Words escaped me as he took out the ring from the small box and his hand reached for mine. He tried to put the ring on my finger and it was surprisingly a perfect fit. In that moment I realized why my mother had asked me a few weeks ago to borrow the golden ring she’d gifted me for Christmas last year. They must have had it sized.

“I think that’s all the bonding that is expected from us,” he looked down, almost expecting me to say something and when I didn’t he gave me a small nod. “I’ll see you next year.”

Next year? “I thought my father said five years,” I tried not to sound too displeased by hearing that I’d have to see him again so soon. But I knew he saw right through me.

Anthony frowned and stopped with his hand on the door, raising one sharp eyebrow at me. “The contract states that in order for this alliance to stay intact even before our actual union, I must take you on a date once a year to honor and acknowledge you as my fiancée. Our father’s both agreed your birthday would be the best date.”

I scoffed at his words. This was un-f*****g-believable. He gave me an almost catlike grin, like he took pleasure in my suffering.

“Right then…see you next year,” I replied, sounding utterly defeated.

Anthony exited with no further words.