Page 13 of Fatal Sloth

"Peter will keep his alliance no matter what," I add with a hint of assurance.

“Not if the shipments continue to be short. He doesn’t want unknown fuckers sneaking into his docks stealing shit,” my dad replies somberly. Peter Russo owns the docks, and while we run them, any disruptions are on him.

We maintain a somewhat delicate balance with the Russo family. We handle the operations, but any issues are reflected poorly on Peter Russo. If our shipments continue to come up short, it won't be long before he takes drastic action to protect his interests. And if that happens, we'll have to find another way to get our product imported. The docks are the easiest and primary route for our operations. Losing access to them would hurt us, leaving us scrambling to establish alternative channels for our imports. It's a scenario we can't afford to let unfold.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath. "Diego was supposed to make sure everything was accounted for. Did you speak with him?"

“Diego hasn’t been seen since the drop last night, and nobody can get through to him," he responds, his tone grim, mirroring my own concern.

Double fuck! This isn't good. Shit is hitting the fan, and if I can't get a handle on it quickly, I'll lose my title before it's even officially mine. I know he’s counting on me to do the right thing—marry this woman and figure out what the hell is going on with these shipments.

Walking over to the bar where he's pouring us both a drink, I down mine in one swallow, relishing the burn as it travels down my throat. He pours me another glass, and I gladly accept. I don't usually get nervous, but marriage is probably the one thing that makes me uneasy. A little liquid courage will get me through this, I think, as I slam down my second glass before heading back to Dad's office to meet the wife.

Stopping at the door, I hear Peter shouting. Who the hell pissed him off now?

As I step inside, I see Peter with his hands forcefully gripping the other woman's arms. He's shouting in her face, his words dripping with venom. "Useless bitch!" he screams, shaking her like a rag doll.

My blood boils at the sight. "Get your fucking hands off her!" I bark, my voice cutting through the tension in the room.

9

Mia

As we drive to the Morelli mansion, like one big happy family, we definitely aren't. My father glances at me through the rearview mirror. His stern look tells me that this won’t be an ordinary family gathering.

Though I anticipated this moment, when he finally breaks the silence, his words still hit me like a sledgehammer. "Mia," he begins, his voice cutting through the air with icy precision. “Today is not just any brunch. Don Antonio has expressed a keen interest in you marrying Sebastiano," he states matter-of-factly, his tone brooking no argument. “If all goes well, you will be married within the next couple of months."

Surprise flashes across my face, betraying the shock I feel at the sudden revelation.

Bride? In a few months?

The words reverberate in my mind as my father continues, outlining the importance of the alliance and the role I am expected to play. The role I was born and raised to believe was my only future. The reason I am watched every second of the day, the reason I have to continue dancing, to make sure my weight is checked regularly. The reason I had to go to certain schools, join all the popular clubs, and wear expensive clothes.

He must notice the fear flicker in my eyes, as he always does, but still presses on. "You will do your best to win him over, Mia," my father commands, his voice unwavering. "Don Antonio is a powerful ally, and marrying into the family would secure our position. This is an opportunity, and you will not disappoint me. Do you understand me?"

The severity of my father's tone and the endless expectations settled heavily within me. I wasn't prepared for this today. I thought this was just brunch and that maybe I could sneak in a donut or croissant. I thought I had a few months until I would be married off.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep or drinks from last night, but I feel like I'm going to be sick. The pressure to win over a man I don't know at all, and all for the sake of a family name and alliances.

Crap!

I nod, trying to keep my cool despite the knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach. The intensity of my father's words hangs heavy on my shoulders, suffocating me with their expectations. Throughout the rest of the ride, I remain silent, lost in my thoughts. The unfamiliarity of the situation gnaws at me, leaving me feeling small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

As we arrive at the Morelli mansion, I can't help but be in awe of its luxury. It’s like stepping into a world of elegance that I had only ever seen in movies. The enormity of the home overwhelms me as we are led upstairs into a lavish office.

Who has two separate staircases?

The extravagant surroundings pique my curiosity. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.

I thought our house was impressive, but this place looks like a high-end hotel and is easily double the size of our home.

Don Antonio greets me with a polite smile and a warm handshake. He is not the intimidating figure I had imagined him to be. But I know better than to let his demeanor fool me; behind that smile is a man of power and influence.

Before anything else is said, my father introduces Karen. Usually, I am annoyed with his actions, but at this moment, I am grateful for the diversion. Having him there shifts the focus away from me, if only temporarily.

That is until the conversation shifts again, and he is discussing me with Don Antonio like I'm not even there or, better yet, like I've become a mere accessory in the room, a carnival prize to be claimed.

Sinking in my seat, I make a sad attempt to pretend I'm not really here, blending into the background. I silently listen in disgust as the conversation jumps from me to business, then back to me. I wish I could disappear as they negotiate my future. I didn't actually think I would have to listen in on the terms of my own marriage.

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