Page 5 of Sinful Daughter (Dark Mafia Sins 2)

“An arranged marriage?” I question as I find my voice.

“You’re the one in power here, Aria. Don’t look at me like this is a death sentence.”

I don’t want a husband. I always thought I would fall in love the way you read in books.

“You’re lucky. Women in mafia families don’t usually get to choose,” my father continues, trying to make the situation sound better than it is.

I’m numb as he continues with the pictures on his desk. I’m just starting my career. I don’t want to be slowed down by some alpha male who thinks he can control me. Mafia men like their women pregnant and at home. Not working in the lifestyle. This is equal to a demotion in the men’s world.

“Are you listening, Aria? This is one of the most important decisions of your life.” His jaw tenses, displeasure radiating off him, and I hate it. I try to listen and concentrate, but my head is still in a fog from the news that my father plans to marry me off. No one has asked if this is what I want. My father has always cared about how I feel. This is different. This is business.

He takes a break from reading and studies me. I can’t meet his eyes, mine going down to the picture he placed back on the desk.

“You are my oldest daughter. I thought you understood your role.”

“Why do I never have a choice in my role?” I whisper, wishing my voice was stronger.

“I gave you the choice, and you chose to put yourself at risk at a poker game!” he exclaims angrily.

Shit. I was hoping I got away with that.

I chance a glance at his face. His jaw hardens, and the lines around his mouth pinch together as his storm-gray eyes pierce into me. There is an edge of softness in his eyes, a sad undertone shining through, and pity is cast toward me. I want to live my life as I please, but I never want pity. He stabs his thick cigar down, squishing it until it’s flat.

“I’ve tried giving you everything you have ever wanted. You never wanted to take over the business; it was in your eyes at a young age. I saw your softness and purity. I never wanted that to be ruined. It was one of the deciding factors when I brought home Luca as one of my own. Him being two years older than you, and our only boy, fit well with our family. To teach him my role was natural. I have tried to give you what you want. I’ve tried to push you to date, and instead, you keep your nose in a book. I’ve tried, my sweet Aria, but the time has now come. I can’t wait any longer.”

Frustration pushes my fog away.He tried?He’s guilting me, and for the first time, my father doesn’t understand me. I always thought we shared this special connection. If we did, he would never force me into this.

I stare right into his eyes, negotiating like he taught me. His spark, realizing I plan to fight him on the subject. He’s always loved a good debate. I can’t help but notice his salt-and-pepper hair is more salt now. When did my father get old? His lips twist into a smirk, recognizing I’ve become distracted.

Pushing my shoulders back, I take a breath. “I won’t marry someone who I do not love.” My voice finally does what I want, and it comes out sounding strong and determined.

“You will. You have until Christmas to decide, or I will choose for you.” My father will hold me to his threat. I could have mascara running down my face on my wedding day, but if it’s for the well-being of the family, the sacrifice is worth it. The best way to prove this is with actions. Words mean nothing in his world.

I stand up, refusing to listen to any more of this. My head stays held high as I walk out of his office, heading toward our entrance. Our house is suffocating me, and I need to get away from it and the unrealistic expectations placed on me. My father calls after me, but I refuse to acknowledge him. If I don’t leave now, I’ll freak out and say something I’ll regret.

CHAPTER 4

“Ilook likea porn star,” I declare, frowning into the mirror, my best friend staring back at me with a big, bold smile.

I’m in a short leather skirt, a bright-red crop top, and five-inch fuck-me heels. It all leaves nothing to the imagination. I pull at the slippery leather, trying to make it go down farther on my leg.

“You said you wanted to step out of your comfort zone and be someone else for the night,” Lori reminds me.

My hand goes into my hair, the volume an unnatural scale of bounce. “This might be a bit much.” My face involuntarily scrunches further as I realize I’m going to need to take short steps to not have my whole backside pop out. My waist might be small, but it’s a different story for the roundness of my ass.

Lori turns me by my shoulders and looks me up and down. “It might be a bit much,” she concedes, “but I feel you want to make a statement.”

Turning toward the mirror, I barely recognize myself. If I’m having a hard time recognizing me, everyone else will too, right? A spring of hope fills me that this is what I need.A night of being someone else.Then I can be sensible, boring Aria.

I hear thepounding bass around the block. I try to turn, changing my mind, but Lori is there. “Give it a chance.” Her hands go to my shoulders, turning me around again. I’m used to nice clubs, velvet ropes, and martinis when I go out.

This is a single-story place with a scary-looking bouncer who has a tattoo on his face. Motorcycles line one section in front, and I’m witnessing a couple having sex in their car right beside us as we walk up.

“This place looks rough.” Checking over my shoulder, I see Leo, my bodyguard, blends in well with his dark jeans and a black T-shirt.

“You want to be someone else for the night, then this is the place,” Lori says.

We walk up past the line, and the bouncer opens the door for us. She stops, placing her hand on his shoulder, whispering into his ear, then I think he hands her money.

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