Page 1 of Inescapable Ties
Chapter one
Luciana
Itwasneveragood day when my father called me to his office. I had made it a point to brand myself as his least favorite child, so whatever he had to say to me would not be pleasant.
His office was a cold, cavernous room with tall bookshelves that lined the walls, and was filled with dusty tomes from centuries past. The air carried a distinct scent of aged paper and hints of hidden secrets.
And there were many, many secrets. They went hand in hand with a Mafia family.
As I reluctantly stepped inside, the heavy wooden door creaked shut behind me, sealing my fate within its confines. My father sat behind his grand oak desk, his beady eyes narrowed into slits.
“Sit down,” he said, his voice as stern as ever. I obediently took a seat in one of the uncomfortable chairs opposite him, mentally preparing myself for whatever reprimands or demands he had in store for me this time.
I just wanted to get out of there, and away from him, as soon as possible. He would probably just lecture me about how I didn’t attend the Alto’s big dinner party last Saturday.
“You will be getting married in three weeks.”
I nearly choked on my breath as I tried to process my father’s words. Married? In three weeks? This was beyond outrageous; it was a death sentence to the life I had dreamed of. How could he even consider arranging my marriage without my consent, without considering my desires or aspirations? The very thought of being bound to someone I didn’t love sent a shiver down my spine, and I slammed my palms into his desk.
“Is this your idea of a joke?” I said, unable to contain the rage that was seeping through my veins.
“Have I ever ‘joked’ with you,papera?”
He didn’t say it in the endearing way like when I was a little girl. Now he was mocking me.
“I won’t do it.”
My father’s face contorted into a mask of fury, his eyes burning with anger. He leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the desk with a menacing force that sent a tremor through the room.
“You will do as I say,” he hissed, his voice laced with venom. “You are part of this family, and you will uphold our traditions.”
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I struggled to control my rising desperation. This was not how my life was meant to be. I had dreams of pursuing my happiness, of forging a path that was mine and mine alone. But in that moment, it felt like those dreams had been mercilessly snuffed out.
“I won’t sacrifice my own happiness for the sake of some archaic tradition,” I spat back at him, my voice laced with defiance.
My father’s gaze narrowed further, a dangerous glint flashing across his eyes. “You think you have a choice?” he growled. “You belong to this family, and you will marry the man I have chosen for you.”
“What are you going to do? Tie me to the altar and torture me until I say ‘I do?’”
“Hm, I suppose you’re right.” There was a look of deviance on his face I was all too familiar with. “Martina turns eighteen in about six months. I suppose I’ll just have to wait until then.”
With a sickening feeling in my gut, I realized that my sister Martina, a musical prodigy with a voice so beautiful it could make angels weep, would be the one to bear the burden of this arranged marriage.
As my father’s ominous words hung in the air, I couldn’t help but think of the countless hours my sister spent practicing her violin, the way her fingers would dance gracefully over the strings, coaxing the most enchanting melodies from the instrument. Her talent was a gift from God, a beacon of hope and joy in a life that was often shrouded in darkness and fear.
There was no way I’d let him have her.
I sat there, frozen, as I watched my father’s smirk grow wider, the satisfaction of his victory palpable in the room. He knew he had won. I, too, knew that I had lost.
“Fine,” I muttered.
“I’m glad we could come to an agreement. You will meet him in two days.”
“Alright,” I said as I stood up.
My father nodded, his face still etched in a sinister smile, and I knew he was reveling in my defeat.
As I walked back to my bedroom, my heart ached with a mixture of resentment and dread for the future. My father’s words echoed in my mind, and I wondered what my future husband would be like. I imagined a life filled with rigid expectations, where love would be replaced with duty, and passion would be held at arm’s length.
