Page 2 of Scar

But the humiliation doesn't end there. Scar also demanded that we crawl towards him at the gate where he and his brothers stood forming a formidable front line. Each brother shares similar features, but it’s easy to tell them apart by their stances and presence alone. As we approach, I stand tall and refuse to crawl like a submissive servant. They can bow down to Scar all they want, but I will never bow down to him or anyone else ever again.

I feel a sense of dread settle in my stomach. This is it. The moment I have been dreading for months - the moment I would be married into one of the strongest and most ruthless mafia families in the country.

I had done my homework, scouring the internet for any information on the family that I could find. But they are well versed at keeping their secrets hidden, and all I could come up with were blurry photos taken from afar or drone shots from above. Even my own father, who has known this family for almost his entire life, refused to tell me anything more about them. He simply gave me a stern look and reminded me that my duty was to fulfill the obligations of the blood oath with this marriage, or else we risked losing everything. Sacrifice. It is a word that left a bitter taste in my mouth.

As I make my way down the driveway, flanked by my parents and two of my father's soldiers, I count fourteen members of the enemy family waiting for us. They stand just outside our property, as if they can't bring themselves to set foot on our land. My anxiety grows with each step closer to them.

When we finally reach the gate, my father holds up a hand to stop us. My mother, who had turned to alcohol to cope with this situation, stumbles but is caught by her sister who stands beside her. Two soldiers from our side move forward until they are standing on either side of my father, forming a barrier between us and the enemy.

The bastard stands with his hands in his pockets, a magnificent cockiness enthralling the night around him. It must be him, because he stands two steps in front of the others, waiting to claim his prize. This must be a monumental day for them if they saw the need to come out in force. He is surrounded by his brothers. His colleagues. His friends. His soldiers. They form a barrier between us and the outside world, three lines deep. A shelter. An anchor. An organization hell bent on the destruction of another. The thought makes bile rise in the back of my throat as I realize that my life wis no longer mine. My future is uncertain, filled with fear and control by a man who wants nothing more than to crush me and my family. This is the sum of my life now - being married to a man not of my choosing, from a family that holds nothing but hatred towards my own.

CHAPTER 3 – SCAR

I raise my hand in a commanding gesture, my voice cold and unwavering.

“Lift her veil.”

I know Marone well enough to anticipate that he won't make this easy for me. He's always been one to play games, and I wouldn't put it past him to have hired a decoy to stand in for his daughter. But as the veil is lifted and tucked at the back of her head, I feel a surge of satisfaction. My body hums with anticipation as I take in the sight of Allegra in the flesh. Despite all the meticulous research I've done on her, nothing could have prepared me for her beauty in person. The pictures and reports don't do her justice. before me, not some imposter. Her brown hair cascades down her back in loose waves, her brown eyes piercing me with her hatred. She stands tall and regal, regarding me with a mixture of contempt and defiance.

And it only fuels my desire to destroy her.

Marone's body trembles with barely suppressed anger, his jaw working furiously as he avoids meeting my gaze. But there's a hint of shame in his lowered eyes, and I revel in the power I hold over him now. He never thought he'd be standing here thirty years later, facing the consequences of an agreement he made with my father using his own tainted blood.

“Our business is concluded,” I say coolly, addressing Marone without tearing my eyes away from his daughter.

Brando speaks into his phone, ordering our drivers to approach. It's time for us to leave.

“Father?” Allegra speaks up, her voice laced with fear. She knows what's coming next, but there's also a hint of false bravery in her tone.

The girl's father gently squeezes her hand as they stand in front of me. She had tried to push him away earlier, but now she clings to him, knowing that he is her only protection from the monsters lurking in front of her.

Her mother falls to the ground, sobbing and pleading for her daughter's life. The woman I know to be Allegra’s aunt tries to catch her, but she hits the pavement before she can reach her. I look down at her with a cold expression, feeling no empathy for her pain. I have a sudden urge to kick her away like a ball rolling into the gutter.

“Time to go,” Brando says boredly. He always seems disinterested unless we are exchanging fire with someone.

“When will I see my daughter again?” her mother sobs.

“At a time and place of my choosing,” I sneer. “I have a strong desire for you to see how well your daughter thrives under my care.” The malice in my words is unmistakable as I taunt the family beyond what I know they are possibly capable of bearing.

The young girl's face contorts with rage, her clenched fists trembling at her sides as she watches her mother break down in tears. I can feel the heat of her anger radiating off her as she glares at me, looking as if she wants to claw my eyes out. Ignoring her hostility, I motion towards a sleek black car waiting nearby.

“Shall we?” I say with a smirk.

Without saying goodbye to her parents, she marches towards the car with her head held low. She doesn't even spare them a glance as the door is held open for her. She settlesinto the plush leather interior, and I can't help but admire her strength and resilience in facing the unknown future ahead of her. But I also can't wait to break that strength and turn it into weakness.

I slide into the backseat, making sure to keep my distance from her. I have no desire for any physical contact with this girl, especially now that she belongs to me.

We silently make our way through the city, and I can't help but think about how we ended up here - in this arranged marriage between myself and the daughter of our sworn enemy, Don Marone. A pact made between my father and Don Marone many years ago, a pact that would have never involved me if my aunt Thalia hadn't gotten involved with Don Marone behind closed doors. Her affair ultimately led to her death by fourteen bullets, ripping through not only her body but also my father's heart and life. The betrayal of his best friend and sister led to an unquenchable thirst for revenge - one that I now had to fulfill as the firstborn son.

And fulfill it I would. I would not rest until the balance was restored, until every drop of pain inflicted on my family was returned in kind. I slide my eyes towards her, this delicate piece caught in the brutal gears of our family's vengeance, and I resent her already.

Her presence will be a constant reminder of the blood that has been shed and the blood yet to spill. Her eyes, deep pools mirroring fear and resolve, occasionally dart towards me before quickly looking away as if scared they might reveal too much. We stop at a red light, and the flickering streetlamp above casts ghostly shadows across her face, highlighting her vulnerability. It seems even nature conspires to emphasize the gravity of her dire situation.

As we resume our silent journey, the air between us thickens. The car moves like a hearse carrying us toward a futureneither of us wants. My mind races with thoughts, each more treacherous than the last, of all the ways that I will inflict pain on the Marone girl. Pain for my dead father’s pain. Pain for my family, for the loss of an aunt we never knew. Pain that stretches decades, etched before we even came into this world; a pain that will inevitably only stop once the Marone line is destroyed.

CHAPTER 4 – ALLEGRA

Scar Gatti does not carry me over the threshold. Instead, he strides ahead of me, his brothers following close behind. We enter a grand mansion, and I struggle to keep up with his brisk pace in my high heels, tapping their way across the marble floors. The house is magnificent, a testament to opulence and grandeur, but I don’t have time to appreciate my surroundings as my soon-to-be husband barks out orders for me to keep up.

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