Page 1 of Scar

CHAPTER 1 – SCAR

I stand at the gate, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, my fingers tapping rhythmically inside my pockets as I wait.

“Call again.”

Brando slouches against the buzzer, his shoulder leaning heavily into it as if trying to merge with the metal, a sigh escaping his lips. I can only imagine the incessant yet aggravating buzz signaling doomsday through the house.

“You sure they know we’re coming?” I ask to no-one. It’s my lawyer Alonzo who speaks up from somewhere over my shoulder, where he’s decided to take a backrow seat over standing beside me and my brothers. He stands a few steps behind us, arms crossed tightly over his chest, lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. He’s made his opinion on this matter well known, and even though he may not like it, there’s not much he can do to dissuade me from carrying out my father’s last wishes. Not much except stand behind me, instead of beside me, like the coward that he is.

“They know you’re coming. Please be patient,” Alonzo grits.

My brother Rafi, standing beside me, looks over his shoulder and raises his eyebrows.

“What’s the matter, Onzi? You sound like one of those automated call systems,” he teases with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Rafi, the youngest of my brothers at twenty-one, is the smart ass amongst us. He may love our comrade to death, but he makes it no secret that he believes Alonzo has a perennial stick up his ass.

“Yes?”

The intercom crackles to life, a deep masculine voice commanding us to identify ourselves. We stand in front of the imposing gate, adorned with a large steel crest that seems to mock our presence.

Brando speaks first, his voice laced with authority and impatience as he announces us. When there is no immediate response, he barks out our purpose for being here: “You know why we’re here.”

But the voice on the other end decides to play games, demanding a name before granting us entrance. It's a futile attempt at delay - the entire household has been warned of our arrival, and they know exactly what we’re here for.

I step forward, my body tense but my face betraying none of it as I calmly speak into the intercom.

“Don Gatti. Here to collect a debt.” The weight of my father's final dying wish presses heavily on me, and I am determined to see it through no matter the cost.

For a moment, there is only silence on the other side of the gate. Then suddenly, it begins to slide open with a loud screech of metal against metal. Floodlights flicker on one by one, revealing the expansive grounds surrounding the mansion.

As I look up the long driveway towards the looming house, anticipation and determination surge through me. An oath is an oath - and I will fulfill it to the letter, even if it means putting everything else on the line.

Rafi takes a step towards the front door, anxious for this day to be over. But I grab his arm and pull him back, silently telling him to stay put. Lucky chimes in, suggesting that we atleast greet the girl at the door. But I remind them that it isn't part of the plan. We are here to collect our reward from Don Marone, and meeting the girl is not part of the deal. Alonzo interjects, saying that it is disrespectful to not even greet her. I shoot him a look and tell him to leave if he is going to lecture me on respect. Ignoring him, I turn my attention back to the front of the house where a flurry of activity can be seen. Don Marone and his family stand frozen on their front stoop, waiting for us to approach. But we don't budge. Instead, I walk up to the intercom and press down.

“Bring the girl out,” I say into the static-filled speaker. “We’re waiting.”

Soon enough, a man emerges from inside the house and whispers something to Don Marone. He then motions for someone to join them outside.

The girl appears, dressed as I have requested - in a white wedding dress with a veil covering her face. She walks hesitantly towards her family members, looking like she is being led to her execution. From where we stand, we can't see their faces, but we can feel the tension vibrating between them.

A twisted smile spreads across my face as I watch them closely. The girl hesitates when she reaches her father, pulling her hand away when he tries to take it. They exchange words in hushed tones before facing off against each other. Don Marone is old and feeble, but he has outlived my father by several years. And now, giving away his only daughter to his enemy's son is like signing his own death sentence.

The girl is a pawn in this twisted game of revenge. I am the unwelcome guest, infiltrating her life and reducing it to nothing more than a means to an end. And I relish every moment of it - the extraction of my revenge and the fulfillment of a thirty-year-old blood oath.

CHAPTER 2 – ALLEGRA

Our families used to be friends, once upon a time. Before my time. Apparently, our fathers' bond was unbreakable, but then everything changed. I don’t know what caused the rift, but whatever it was, it tore our families apart. The Gatti brothers, who should have been like brothers to me, were now the enemy.

The blood oath that was sworn between our fathers was never forgotten. It’s hung over us like a dark cloud, a constant reminder of the bitter feud between our families. And now, as the only daughter of my father, I am the one chosen to fulfill this ancient promise.

I push my father's hand away as he tries to console me. How can he expect me to sacrifice my life for something I never agreed to? The weight of his mistakes should not fall on my shoulders. He says a blood oath is binding and cannot be broken without consequences, but how is that even possible? What century do we live in?

I refuse to let myself be bartered like some kind of pawn in this game between our families. My father's humiliation may bring Gatti satisfaction, but it will only bring me more pain and resentment towards him. How can they expect me to pay for my father’s sins?

As we walk down the long driveway, my heels click against the pavement, and I can feel my father's eyes on me. Hedoesn't want this war, but with no sons to defend his kingdom and his control over the Marone empire slipping away, he has no choice but to agree to this marriage alliance or risk everything.

I regret not wearing sneakers for a quick escape, but my mother insisted on this elaborate white dress and veil. She joked that it was my “wedding day,” even though there would be no proper wedding. Giancarlo 'Scar' Gatti is not my chosen husband, or anything else for that matter. He forced me into this dress and onto the streets as a ready bride, depriving me of a real ceremony and my parents of watching their daughter get married to someone she loves.

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