Page 51 of The Vow

“Zakarian Syndicate?”

“Yes, Lena is their oldest daughter and it’s an arranged marriage, a business deal if you like, but my hands are tied, I have to do it-”

Mario’s previously vaguely amused face had slipped into an ugly gawp. “You… arranged marriage… Armenian Mafia…”

“Yeah, I know this sounds all a bit… insane… I resisted at first but honestly there is no way out of it-”

“Zakarian Syndicate?” his father repeated again slowly.

“Yeah, look, she isn’t ‘the one’ or anything, she’s annoying as fuck, a stuck-up, petulant, spoiled brat-”

“Wow, no love lost between you and your fiancée?” Mario snickered.

“Love? Fuck no, I don’t even like her.” Carmelo licked his very dry lips, the lie like sand on his tongue. “The point is… I’m getting married and I want you to be there… we’ll probably separate after a few weeks after the charade is over and she’ll go back to LA and I’ll get on with my job and my life like nothing happened-”

“Except she’ll own half of everything you have-”

“She won’t own anything of mine, and I won’t own anything of hers, there will be pre-nups, she’s got assets and her father doesn’t want me getting any control of the Zakarian money-”

“Zakarian?” Their father repeated inanely again.

“Jesus Pap, have you gone deaf?” Carmelo shot off, turning in the direction of his father. He knew he was being unkind, but he was losing his patience.

“This is… Carmelo, I can’t believe you would do this… I absolutely cannot attend and I will not allow this wedding!” Their father shouted, suddenly pale, suddenly shaking.

He stood and glided out of the room.

Mario turned on Carmelo then. “Look what you’ve fucking done, now!” Mario hissed furiously.

“I didn’t do anything!” Carmelo held his hands up, trying not to raise his voice but failing.

“You always do this, there’s no drama at all until you show up, being all high and mighty with your superhero job-”

“I’m hardly a-”

“Putting that fucking precinct and that fucking Motorcycle Club above family-”

“Me putting…?” Carmelo spat at the injustice of it. “You are the ones who have never shown up for me! I won a fucking medal the other week and did you two come? No!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, we were probably working, you know? Trying to actually salvage my father’s former restaurant-”

“If it’s not working as a business, cut your losses or switch it up-”

“Oh, like you’re a hospitality expert now are you? The brilliant hero Carmelo tells us to just ‘switch it up’ and everything falls into place-”

“Come on-”

“Pap isn’t well, you know that?”

Carmelo frowned. “What do you mean, not well?”

Mario sniffed, quietening slightly. “He’s just… getting old, you know? He’s lost his… I dunno, his passion?”

Carmelo frowned. “His passion? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Pap show any passion.”

“Yeah, well, you fucked him up, didn’t you?” Mario shot back.

Carmelo froze. It was a low blow. It was the lowest of them all. Here it was, surfacing like a bad smell like it always did.

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