Page 25 of Mafia Heir's Broken Vows

He leans forward with his hands clasped. "It will send a message. To Marco, to our enemies, to everyone. Isabella is the daughter of Vittorio Castellano—an alliance with their family ensures Marco is isolated."

I scoff, pacing in front of his desk. "Isabella's brother is Marco's closest ally. You think he won't use her to get to me?"

"She knows her duty." His voice leaves no room for argument. "And so do you."

He stares at me like I'm a pawn he's moving into position.

"Duty?" I sneer, stepping closer to his desk, fists trembling at my sides. "You're asking me to destroy what's left of my family for a strategic move?"

"You're serious?" My voice is low, dangerous.

My father doesn't flinch. "Isabella is a strategic move. Marrying her unites our families and isolates Marco. You know how this game is played."

This isn't a fucking game. I take a slow breath, fighting to keep my temper in check. "And what about Serafina? About Leo?"

He leans forward, eyes narrowing. "They're collateral. This is bigger than your—attachments."

"Attachments," I repeat, my voice dripping with venom. "You're threatening my family like they're pawns on your board."

I grip the edge of the desk, holding back the urge to punch my father. "I won't marry Isabella."

His stare hardens. "You will. Or you'll watch everything you care about burn. Do you think Marco cares about your boy? About that woman? He will use them to bleed you dry. Marry Isabella, and they live."

The air leaves my lungs. He's ruthless—always has been—but this? He's tying a noose around my neck and tightening it with their lives.

"You have until the end of the week to decide," he adds, rising to his feet. "Choose wisely."

I leave the study,his threat crushing me. My mind spins—the bomb threat on Serafina's car, Leo's frightened eyes, and now this forced marriage. My family's legacy is a noose tightening around my throat. Loyalty at all costs, is what family means to my father. But loyalty shouldn't mean sacrificing the people who matter.

I stalk down the marble halls, footsteps echoing, but the emptiness offers no comfort. I stop in front of the wine cabinet, gripping the edge of the counter until my knuckles turn white. I want to drink until I forget, drown it all out.

Marrying Isabella would secure our family's dominance, but at what cost? Serafina would never forgive me. And Leo—my son—would grow up seeing me as the man who abandoned them. He will hate me even more than his mother already does.

And yet—my father was right about one thing. Marco doesn't care about any of that. He won't stop.

Later that night,I stand at the balcony doors, staring into the rain. The city lights shine through the weather far in the distance, muted by the storm. Thunder rumbles through the air, a warning of the chaos brewing.

I hear the soft footsteps behind me before Serafina speaks.

"What did he want?" Her voice is wary but curious. She knows my father—he is just like hers.

I don't turn. "To remind me who I am." The bitterness in my voice tastes like acid. I want to stand up to him, to all of them, to say no. But I know how that ends. I'd disappear and never come back this time.

She steps closer. "And who is that?" she asks me as if it is that simple.

I look at her, really look at her—the fire in her eyes, the defiance in her stance. She's not afraid of me. Not like she should be. She managed to get away from it all, to start a life—but it still caught up to her, found her in her peace. There's no escape, there is just loyalty to your family.

"Someone who doesn't have a choice." I know what I need to do, and it might just kill me to do it.

Her expression softens, but there's steel in her voice. "There's always a choice, Alessandro."

She has no idea what my life is truly like, how my family works. I could choose her, and Marco, or my father, would have her killed in a heartbeat. If I marry Isabella, she gets to walk away, start over, and have a real life. The one she wanted for Leo—one without me in it.

I huff a laugh, dark and humorless. "Not this time," I say to her, "My father has arranged for me to marry Isabella. I possess merely a week to conform to the agreement and solidify the pact with her family. It's the only way we can make sure Marco will leave us alone."

There's little point in lying or drawing this out. I'm not going to put her or my son in harm's way.

"This way you get the life you wanted for Leo, away from me and my family." I keep my tone neutral, but it's a lie—I'm unraveling inside.

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