Page 1 of Cruel Bet

Chapter 1

Arianna

“Your father requires your presence, princess.”

I know better than to keep my father waiting. Don Giovanni De Luca waits for no one, not even his prized possession, me. I nod at my father’s righthand man, Matteo, and follow him wordlessly. Matteo is a brute of a man. Vicious and cruel, he takes pleasure in the work he does for my father. He’d never lay a finger on me, in fact, he’s one of the few people who acknowledges my presence and shows me any kindness. But there are times when I still feel an irrepressible shiver of fear in his presence, knowing what he is capable of.

We walk through the seemingly endless maze of corridors in the mansion we call home. Not that it feels like a home to me. I see it for what it is—a gilded cage. I’m sure most people would envy my life of luxury; the beautiful dresses and jewels, the extravagant gifts, and the elaborate vacations to our many homes. But these things come at a price far greater than money. My freedom.

My father didn’t make his millions by being a good guy. Some say there are things in this life that money can’t buy—my father would disagree. He owns everything and everyone in his life. Including me. I can’t do anything without his permission. I’m his perfect little girl. His angel. His trophy. His prisoner. There’s nothing I can do about it. And I hate him for it.

I tried to run away when I was sixteen. Since then, my every move has been closely watched. As much as I’d like to escape, I haven’t dreamed of trying it again. Not after what my father did to punish me. He knew that he couldn’t hurt me, beating me didn’t work anymore, and anything else would reduce my potential value as a bride if I was damaged goods. But my maid, Maria, was a different matter.

Maria was a kind and sweet girl who had been trafficked from her home in Bulgaria. My father brought her to keep my sister and me company and look after us when we were young, for we no longer had a mother or any other women in our lives, though she wasn’t much older than us. She became our only friend. Father knew that I cared for her, and so, when she helped me escape, it was Maria who paid the price.

She was tortured for hours until she finally gave in and told them where I had gone. After my father had me brought home, he took me to her where she was tied up, bruised and bloodied, and took great pleasure in telling us both her fate. She was to be sold off as a sex slave. To be used for the sick fantasies of rich, powerful men. They dragged her away, sobbing and pleading for mercy in a language no one else spoke, before I could tell her how sorry I was.

Not long after that. I lost my sister, Adelina, too. I have no one left who cares for me. No one to care for. The fight has gone out of me. There’s no use trying to leave. Father would find me, and he’d come up with a cruel and unusual way to punish me, I’m sure. So, I play at being his good little girl. It’s my penance, if I hadn’t run away, Maria and Adelina would still be here.

When we reach the heavy oak doors of my father’s study, Matteo raps his tattooed knuckles on the door twice in quick succession.

“Come in,” my father’s voice barks out.

Matteo opens the door for me, and we enter. I hear the door click shut behind us and I know without looking that Matteo is standing guard in front of it. The inexplicable urge to run grips me and I have to force myself to stand still. It’s not like I’d get far if I tried anyway.

“Father, you asked for me,” I say, keeping my gaze focused on my feet.

As usual, I am wearing the low heels and knee-length, high necked dress that my father prefers me in. My long black hair that reaches past my waist is neatly put up in a ballerina bun. I have small diamond studs in my ears and a plain gold chain with a matching diamond pendant around my neck. There’s nothing about my appearance that can anger him. So why do I feel such a sense of dread?

“Arianna, this is Don Lorenzo Lucchese. He’s come from New York to meet you,” my father announces.

I know the name, Don Lorenzo Lucchese is the head of one of the most brutal and powerful Mafia families in New York. Father has been trying to form an alliance with him for years. Not that my father would expect me to know this, he doesn’t share his business dealings with me. But I keep my eyes and ears open, and he isn’t exactly subtle about talking as if I’m not there. After all, who would I tell? I never leave the compound. I have no friends or people I could talk to, even if I wanted to. Yet, I know far more than he realizes. Not that I’d admit it. Knowing too much is dangerous around men like my father. Being his daughter wouldn’t protect me from his wrath should I cross him. What I have no clue about is why Don Lorenzo Lucchese would come all the way from New York to seeme.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Don Lucchese,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

I raise my eyes to look at my unexpected visitor. The powerful Don Lucchese is not what I expected. For starters he’s old. Really old, he has to be at least seventy by the look of him. He stands stooped over a gold-tipped cane, several inches shorter than my father. I’m sure he’d like people to think the cane is part of his ensemble, but I can tell he needs it for support. He’s a walking cliché, a Mafia don from a bygone era in a three-piece, pin-striped suit. On his heavily lined face, he sports a thin gray mustache beneath a bulbous nose. His cruel mouth twists into a lecherous grin.

“Why, Don De Luca, she’s even more becoming than you said. If I’d known you were hiding such a beautiful creature I’d have agreed to your proposal sooner. Though, technically, it is my proposal that the delectable Arianna needs to agree to,” he says.

“Arianna is a good, obedient girl. She agrees,” my father replies, his tone making it clear that he is commanding me as such.

“Excellent. As long as she continues to be obedient as my wife, we will have a very happy alliance indeed. And of course, I expect that everything you have told me about her is true. If I were to find out otherwise on the wedding night, I would be most disappointed. And when I am disappointed, heads tend to roll.”

“I would not lie to you, Don Lucchese. The girl is pure and will be yours—your virgin bride.”

“Good. Then it is done. Arianna will be my wife and our two families will unite,” Don Lucchese announces, greedilystaring at me, his eyes roving over my body and lingering on my chest.

A white fleck of spittle lands on his chin and I feel physically repulsed.

Oh god, I’m going to be sick.

I have to get out of here, but I feel as though I am trapped in quicksand, as if the floor is swallowing me whole. I can’t believe what I am hearing, I’ve done everything my father wanted, I’ve been the dutiful daughter. The thought of being with this lecherous, old man sickens me.

“No.”

The word escapes my lips, tumbling from my brain before I’ve even registered that I said it out loud. My father and Don Lucchese look as shocked as I am by my outburst.

“Forgive my daughter, Don Lucchese. You know how prone to hysterics women can be. She is no doubt nervous, as any innocent, young bride would be, about the wedding night. But I assure you, she will do her duty to me as my child and to you as your wife.”

---