“You have been chosen to wed Ravazzani’s heir, Giulio. It’s a good match, Frankie. An honor, really.”
An honor? I stared at the man who’d promised I would receive a college degree before marriage. Who said I could have my choice in a husband. Empty lies. Every single one. “Absolutely not. I won’t marry some stranger in Italy. I don’t want a mafia husband. I’m going to school in the fall.”
My father’s face hardened into a scary expression, one I’d never seen before. I suspected this was his ’ndrina face, the mafia leader who did terrible things with no remorse. “You will do as you are told or people will die. People in this family. Is that what you want?”
The threat hung in the air between us and I thought of my twin sisters upstairs, asleep and trusting. With no idea I was being forced to choose a life I didn’t want to secure their safety. It’s no choice at all. I would do anything for them.
Though I was just two years older, I had been the one to care for them after my mother’s death. I taught them about boys and periods. Helped them buy bras. Dried their tears and managed their screen time. The backs of my eyelids started to burn. “Why is this happening?”
“Alliances through marriage are a part of our world. There is nothing anyone can do to prevent this. I expect you to do your duty and make Giulio happy.”
I pressed a hand to my stomach, trying to ease the sudden cramping of my insides. How had my future changed so drastically? “But you promised,” I said weakly, fighting tears.
His expression didn’t budge. “My promises to the ’Ndrangheta come first. Now, do not dishonor me. This is an opportunity for us to gain more power through your husband’s family. Ravazzani is one of the wealthiest men in Italy, the head of one of the largest clans, the ’ndrina which bears his name.”
Power. Wealth. Was that all anyone cared about? I rubbed my eyes, uncaring if I smeared my mascara. “This isn’t fair.”
“Grow up, Frankie,” Dante sneered. “Ravazzani is one of the highest-ranking men in all of the ’Ndrangheta. You’ll be married to his son, who will inherit everything one day. Any woman in our circle would kill for this chance.”
“Screw you, Dante. I don’t want to marry a boss,” I snapped. “I want to go to school and get a degree.” Like I had been promised.
College meant freedom from my father and his men. It meant living in New York City and going to clubs and bars, dating boys and drinking too much. I would study and have a career and live a normal life before I had to marry.
It was all my mother had wanted for her girls.
Be your own woman, Francesca. Don’t make my mistakes.
She was a top Italian model before she met and married my father. While their marriage had been a love match at first, she said she always regretted giving up her career for him.
“Stop,” my father said. “You’re acting childish. It’s been decided. Go up and pack your things. I expect you to be ready first thing tomorrow.”
“But—”
“Not another word, Francesca. You are leaving with Fausto Ravazzani and that is final.”
I pressed my lips together and rose. The men said nothing as I left, thinking I’d agreed. That I’d willingly cross an ocean and marry a man I hadn’t met, just because my father screwed up with some mysterious shipment.
They should have known better.