Page 3 of Bred To Be Owned

“Well, Toula is quite inquisitive,” my father broke into the conversation. I didn’t raise my head, but I looked at my father through my eyelashes. He was laying his hand over my mother’s on the table, effectively quieting her for now. I wouldn’t be so lucky later. “Maybe I’ll have to rethink your education.” I didn’t get my hopes up. He was just appeasing the Italians.

Dinner continued through dessert, and eventually, my parents allowed us to be excused. I told my guard that I was heading to bed and allowed him to walk me up. Angelo waited until I locked my door before he headed to the bunkhouse. It would take him ten minutes to get down the stairs and out the front door. I’d timed it one night.

I waited, and when I was sure he was gone, I crept back downstairs to hide in the library. My mother wouldn’t bother to look there if she was trying to find me. I curled up in one of the wingback chairs. Not worrying about what tomorrow would bring, I fell asleep. I had a plan.

Chapter 2

Toula, Age 17, Year 3

Today was Irini’s twenty-first birthday, and all I felt was dread. I’d been awake for a few hours, but I hadn’t moved from the safety of my bed. My eyes continually drifted toward the door, and my ears strained to hear any noise in the hallway. The only sound in the room was the crinkle of my satin sheets as I waited.

This day had been looming over the entire compound ever since that dinner with the Italians had ended three years ago. Irini had attended their functions as the dutiful bride-to-be, but I thought it was cruel that my father constantly sent Markos as her guard. My mother knew about their relationship, but Markos was still alive, proving she hadn’t divulged that piece of knowledge, using it to her advantage. I wouldn’t have blamed them if they had run.

The Old Man never attended our family functions. The first time he had excused himself, I had waited for my father to blow a gasket, but he’d smiled as he announced we wouldn’t be having guests. By the third time, I had suspected that whatever was in the marriagecontract was far more important to my father than the Old Man actually showing up. Irini might have a better chance of enduring the marriage if he ignored her, too.

My feet wiggled underneath the blankets as I tried to listen one more time, but no one was coming for me, the second daughter. I planned on using this to my advantage and hiding as much as possible. Pulling out my latest business book, I slid my finger along the top until I hit the scrap paper I’d placed in between the pages. Lying on my side, I propped my head up and read. I had barely finished the first chapter when Irini burst into my room, still in her nightgown, with her hair flowing wildly behind her.

“Toula!” she cried, her eyes full of fear. She closed my door before she said, “He missed my birthday.”

I placed my book on the nightstand and sat up in bed. “Who missed your birthday?” It was rhetorical. I already knew the answer as I watched her wring her hands.

Irini gathered her nightgown between her legs and climbed onto my bed, sitting next to me. I feared this was going to get worse before it ever got better, and I wrapped my arms around her. Pulling her into my body, we lay on my pillows as we both looked up at the ceiling.

“Markos,” she sighed. “I had to attend the Italians’ Christmas party last night with Angelo, and I thought nothing of it when I didn’t hear from him. He always tells me goodnight. Sometimes when there’s a function, I don’t hear from him until the next morning. There’s been no communication.”

“When was the last time you saw him?” I asked her, fearing the worst.

She tapped her finger against her lips as she thought about it. “I was in my art room yesterday afternoon, and he popped in to see if I neededanything.”

“Did you need anything?” I couldn’t help but tease her.

She turned her head to look at me. “It’s not like that. You’re never going to understand until you have someone who accepts you the way you are. He lets me be me, and there’s no pressure to be something I’m not. There’s been no one who accepts me like that, and in return, I just want to please him when he’s around.”

“He’s also your guard, and you knew better. You have an arranged marriage,” I reminded her.

“That’s not the point. Markos never misses my birthday.” She laid her head on my chest, and I tightened my arms around her. “He never misses my birthday,” she whispered.

We stayed in my room just as we were. I held my eldest sister as tight as I could, afraid that the worst had happened. Neither one of us worried about how many hours had passed, the light dimming in the room the only indicator. I thought it was suspicious no one came to look for us until dinnertime. The sun had set and shadows bathed the room in darkness when my mother knocked on my door, accompanied by a serving girl.

She walked into my room, took one look at us, and smiled. “Irini, Markos has been relieved of his duties. He’s left the property. If you’re planning on leaving the compound before the weddingnext week, you’ll need to negotiate with Toula to use Angelo.” She walked out as the serving girl put the tray down on my bed. No one was hungry.

“He wouldn’t miss my birthday,” Irini said after they left, turning her face further into my shoulder.

I didn’t want to have to spell this out for her. “Irini, he didn’t leave,” I told her, tightening my hold.

“He wouldn’t miss my birthday,” she said again, the tears streaming down her face.

I made sure she was looking at me when I delivered the blow. “Irini, he’s gone. They killed him.”

The light in her eyes seemed to fade away, leaving a void of nothingness in their wake.

In that moment, I vowed never to be trapped in a fate like hers. I looked over at my nightstand, where my business book sat, renewing my desire to become an undesirable.

***

When there was a family wedding, it would have been rude not to invite the high-ranking members of the other ruling families. Our family and the Italians intermingled, but the Bratva kept to themselves, bringing gracious gifts. The Yakuza were under the watchful eyes of every single made man in the room.

Three hours before the ceremony, Old Man Lomardo announced he wasn’t in the mood for a new wife. His first wife had given him five sons before she passed, and he had no use for any more heirs. He also had four mistresses that kept him occupied. Irini would be too easy for him to break, and the man liked a challenge. My father took great pleasure in telling Irini that they had come to new terms. She’d marry his son, Junior, and I wondered if that had been the plan all along. They had agreed too quickly.

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