Page 3 of Claiming His Mafia Princess

The men are getting more drunk, more hopped up on white powder, more aggressive.

The bets are getting more risky, and I, for one, would like to fold and go home for the night. Yet I stay, because earlier when I went to find air I found Dalila Vece in her silk pajamas. My fucking God, she is a temptation to all of mankind, that girl. They keep her locked away in this gilded cage, but I saw it in her eyes — that girl is wild. A feral little beast just waiting to be set free of her prison.

The Vece brothers will have a husband chosen for her, eventually. It’s a matter of time and the right alliance. Her father calls her a menace and says she is a rebellious little devil. I know she has been sneaking out with my younger cousins, doing things and going places where she could get hurt — or worse, hunted.

I know, because I would hunt Dalila Vece.

There are many things I would do to Dalila if I had the chance to get my hands on her — but no one gets their hands on her. No, she is the ultimate prize. She was sassy and feisty when I asked why she was down here alone. She shouldn’t be down here at all.

“My sister’s virginity and fuck it her hand in marriage, too.” I almost break my poker face when Masaccio bets her away so frivolously. What the fuck is he doing? He is wasted — he cannot be serious? Many of the men at our table pause, their mouths watering for that pot. It is so incredibly sweet — what is his end game? Or is he just stupid?

“Your father will kill you.” The man on his left pipes up, with an indisputable fact, but somehow Mas is unshaken.

“The old man is tired of her shit. This just makes finding her a husband more fun for me. He already tasked me to do it this week, now I can do it my way.”

He’s wasted. That is the only thought I have right now. They are ready to marry her off before she gets herself into trouble and isn’t worth it. A pawn in a much bigger game, I see him and his plan. I raise his stupid bet. If I win, I can make sure the monsters who are worse than me lose.

Many are weary and their pockets are running low, but some go all in — I am one of them. There’s a prize I actually want for once. I have money, cars, and all the fine things that this world has to offer. I don’t have a wife — and no one would choose me to wed their prized daughter.

I am the faulty son, the one who isn’t perfect. I self-consciously pull my collar up on the side to hide the blood red birth mark that shows over it. I’m not the same. I should be my father’s pride, his eldest son. Instead, I have been his shame. The one he keeps in the shadows. My physical imperfection made me the second choice. Broken from birth, raised to be the silent killer. I have no voice in my family. I have one purpose and it is certainly not to marry a pretty girl.

My only job is to me a monster, the silent shadow of death that these men fear.

Villains like me, we are not made for love, and women, we don’t get the family and the feelings you need to be considered a human.

There are advantages to being silent. No one ever sees me coming. They assume silent and deaf are the same thing, shooting their mouths off — I listen just fine. In fact, if you shut up long enough, you hear everything. I know too many secrets, some of them are like lead shackles — others are leverage for days when I need to make myself heard.

I spoke to Dalila in the kitchen earlier. I never speak to anyone. But I wanted to say her name.

Now I am playing a game for her — I will stop at nothing to win her. It is the only way I’d ever be able to attain the object of my affection.

“And then there were three.”

Mas says as yet another player folds. Only one of my opponents is not bluffing and I can’t be sure my hand will beat his, but I can be sure he would break Dalila in a day.

To him, she’d be nothing but spoils of war, a taste of revenge against her father who has wronged many men.

Mas has played right into the hand of his enemy.

That man would be tied to their family forever.

As a man, I have never asked God for anything — he never answered when I was a child, now he certainly wouldn’t listen. But I ask, just in case he cares about her, that he allows me to win this hand and save her. Her brother is an idiot who has gambled away his sister’s life and body while drunk and high. He should be my next kill, but I can’t do that. I won’t.

Vece are untouchable.

The room falls silent, the rowdy banter dies down to almost a hush when they realize what is really at stake — and I am sweating at the pressure of so many eyes all on me. I loathe being the center of attention. My skin itches to just throw it in and escape this pressure cooker. They glare. It is my own personal hell.

My collar is too tight, and I can’t swallow the fear that creeps up my dry throat. I try to wash it down with cognac. I am so close, but will they really give her to me?

The old man is not here — conspicuously absent — he might put a stop to this. Not because my family is not a good match, but because it is me and not my brother. He’s the next in line. I am just the shadow, all I will ever be. Maybe with Dalila on my arm, I could come out of the shadows.

“This is madness.” Celso, the youngest Vece boy, whispers under his breath, clearly concerned for his sister, more so than Mas.

Rufino is passed out cold, unable to defend her either. These boys, they have always been on a power-trip; they have an unshakable bind. Tonight I see a crack. Celso is not behind this choice, he is fidgeting and distracting me.

“Why are you doing this, Mas?” He pipes up and his brother gives him a look that makes him shrink away. Masaccio is the boss even though their father is still breathing. He is twin number one, and he leads this family. Tuomo is gone from the party, nowhere to be seen. He is no doubt balls deep in one of the cocktail waitresses that have been serving up drinks, cocaine, and favors all night.

Four brothers — and only one is trying to protect his sister. Disgraceful. Their mother, sadly, wasn’t around for long enough to raise them better.

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