Prologue
My trembling fingers mirrored the fluttering leaves, a visible testament to my nerves. With each beat of my heart, rapid as a hummingbird's wings, I reached out, offering my hand to Brian. His grasp was strong and unwavering, the touch of a man who knew his power. And then, in one fluid motion, he slid the ring onto my finger. White gold adorned with twenty delicate diamonds. What should have symbolized love and devotion for most couples became a chilling reminder of my captivity. A daily affirmation of Brian's ownership over me. This ring, so innocent in appearance, shackled me to a golden cage for eternity. Until death do us part was no empty vow, not for us. There was no escape from this union. I belonged to Brian, body and soul, until the bitter end. The final words of the oath that bound men to the mafia echoed in my mind, intertwining with my wedding vows: "I enter alive and I will have to get out dead." I should have fled when I still had the chance. But now, with hundreds of impassive faces from the Chicago and New York Familias gazing upon us, escape was an impossible dream. Divorce was not an option. Death was the only acceptable conclusion to a marriage in our world. Even if I managed to evade Brian's watchful eyes and the ever-present henchmen, my betrayal of our agreement would unleash war. No words from my father could shield me from the vengeance of Brian's Familia, their honor irrevocably tarnished. My feelings were inconsequential, always had been. I had grown up in a world where choices were a luxury, especially for women. This wedding was devoid of love, trust, or choice. It was a transaction of duty and honor, a fulfillment of expectations. A binding to ensure peace.I wasn't a fool. I understood the underlying motives at play here: money and power. Both were slipping away as the Russian Mob, known as 'The Bratva', the Taiwanese Triad, and other crime organizations attempted to expand their influence into our territories. The Italian Familias scattered across the United States needed to set aside their feuds and work together to crush their enemies. It was supposed to be an honor for me to marry the eldest son of the New York Familia. My father and every other male relative had tried to drill that into my head since the moment I became betrothed to Brian. I knew it all too well, and it's not like I hadn't had time to prepare for this exact moment, but fear still coiled around me, constricting my body in its relentless grip. "You may now kiss the bride," the priest's voice cut through the air. I lifted my head, aware of the piercing gazes from every corner of the pavilion, searching for any sign of weakness. If I let my terror show, my father would be furious, and Brian's Familia would exploit it to their advantage. But I had grown up in a world where women could only rely on a perfect mask for protection, so I easily molded my face into a serene expression. No one would know how desperately I longed to escape. No one except Brian. I couldn't hide from him, no matter how hard I tried. My body trembled uncontrollably, betraying my inner turmoil. As my eyes locked with Brian's cold, steely gray gaze, I could sense that he knew. How many times had he instilled fear in others? Recognizing it probably came as naturally to him as breathing. Bending down to bridge the ten-inch height difference between us, there was no trace of hesitation, fear, or doubt on Brian's face. My lips quivered against his as his eyes bore into me, conveying a clear message: You belong to me.
CHAPTER ONE
Three years ago I found solace in the cozy embrace of our library, nestled on the chaise lounge with a book in hand. Liliana, my younger sister, lay peacefully beside me, undisturbed by the world around her. It was in this tranquil moment that a knock disrupted our haven. The heavy wooden door creaked open, revealing our mother's troubled face framed by tightly pulled back blond hair. "Is something the matter?" I inquired, concern etching into my voice. She attempted a smile, but it was a hollow facade. "Your father wishes to speak with you in his office." Carefully disentangling myself from Liliana's slumbering form, I gently laid her head down on the chaise. She instinctively curled up, a petite figure even at eleven years old. I, too, lacked height, standing at a mere five foot four. It seemed to be a trait shared by the women in our family. Mother avoided my gaze as I approached her. "Am I in trouble?" I puzzled over what transgression I could have committed. Lily and I were typically the obedient ones, while Diana was the perpetual rule-breaker who faced the consequences. "Hurry. Your father won't wait," Mother urged, her words laced with an air of urgency. Anxiety coiled within my stomach as I stood before Father's office. Taking a moment to steady my nerves, I rapped on the door. "Come in." I entered, masking my emotions behind a carefully composed expression. Father sat behind his imposing mahogany desk, perched in a wide black leather armchair. The towering shelves behind him housed a collection of untouched books, concealing a secret entrance to the basement and a hidden corridor. He glanced up from a stack of papers, his greying hair slicked back. "Take a seat." I settled onto one of the chairs positioned across from him, folding my hands in my lap, determined not to succumb to the nervous habit of biting my lower lip. Father despised that. I braced myself for the impending conversation.His intense gaze pierced through me, leaving me unsettled. A mixture of curiosity and apprehension swirled within me as I observed the strange expression etched across his face. Father rarely delved into the intricacies of our family's business, especially not with us girls. It was an unspoken rule that we were to be shielded from the harsh realities of the mob world. Sensing the gravity of the situation, I suppressed any urge to interrupt him. "The Bratva and the Triad are encroaching upon our territories, growing bolder with each passing day," he began, his tone laced with concern. "While we may count ourselves fortunate compared to the Las Vegas familia, who must also contend with the Mexicans, we can no longer ignore the imminent threat posed by the Russians and the Taiwanese." Confusion engulfed me, my mind struggling to make sense of his words. Father's sudden revelation about the escalating tensions between rival crime organizations left me feeling adrift. Yet, I knew better than to question him. "In order to combat the Bratva and the Triad, we must first reconcile our longstanding feud with the New York Familia," he continued, his voice resolute. The mere mention of the Familia sent shivers down my spine. Decades of bloodshed and animosity had defined their relationship, only recently simmering down as they redirected their aggression towards other crime syndicates. "There is a stronger bond than any other - blood. And the Familia understands this, at least." Frowning, I attempted to grasp the weight of his words, struggling to reconcile the idea of peace with the Familia. It seemed inconceivable, given the history of violence between our families. "Born in blood. Sworn in blood. That's their motto," he added, seemingly reading my thoughts. I nodded, though my confusion only deepened. There was more to this story than met the eye. "Yesterday, I met with Zain Foster," Father revealed, his voice dropping to a hushed tone. My breath hitched at the mention of the Capo dei Capi, the head of the New York mob. It had been a decade since the last meeting between New York and Chicago, a meeting that had ended in tragedy, forever known as the Bloody Thursday. And yet here was Father, not even holding the title of Boss, but the Consigliere, the trusted advisor to Wayne Wood, who ruled over the Outfit and its criminal empire in the Midwest. "We reached an agreement that for peace to be a viable option, we must become family," he declared, his eyes drilling into mine. A knot tightened in my stomach, a foreboding sense of dread creeping over me. "Wood and I have decided that you shall marry his eldest son, Brian. He is the future Capo dei Capi of the Familia."As I plummeted into despair, the question echoed in my mind, "Why me?" Diana is just as stunning, if not more so, but her youth spared her. Foster and Wayne had been engaged in frequent conversations over the past few weeks, with Foster desiring the most beautiful girl for his son. However, since Wayne lacked a daughter of his own, I was deemed the most suitable candidate. The realization left me breathless, gasping for air. My father regarded me with a possessive gaze, as if I were his most prized possession. "There may be countless beautiful girls, but there are few Italian girls with hair as resplendent as yours," my father chuckled. "Wayne described it as golden. You are our gateway into the New York Familia." "But, Father, I am only fifteen. I cannot possibly marry," I pleaded desperately. My father dismissed my concerns with a wave of his hand. "If I were to agree, you could. What do we care for laws?" I clutched the armrests so tightly that my knuckles turned white, yet I felt no pain. Numbness crept through my body, engulfing me. "I informed Zain that the wedding would have to wait until you turned eighteen. Your mother insisted that you reach legal age and complete your education. Wayne succumbed to her pleas," my father disclosed. So the Boss had instructed my father to delay the wedding. Yet here I was, on the precipice of being thrust into the arms of my future husband. My husband. A wave of sickness washed over me. All I knew about Brian Foster was that he would inherit his father's position as head of the New York mob and that his moniker, 'The Vice,' derived from his brutal act of crushing a man's throat with his bare hands. I remained ignorant of his age. My cousin Bibiana had been forced to marry a man three decades her senior. Was Brian of a similar age? That was my fervent hope. And most importantly, was he as cruel as his reputation suggested?"He will be the head of the New York mob," I whispered, my voice trembling with desperation. "Please, Father, don't force me to marry that man." Father's face hardened, his eyes narrowing with resolve. "You will marry Brian Foster. I made a deal with his father, Zain. You will be a dutiful wife to Brian, and when you meet him at the engagement celebrations, you will act as a proper lady." "Engagement party?" I repeated, my voice sounding distant, as if muffled by a thick fog. "Yes, my dear. It is a strategic move to solidify our families' ties, and it will give Brian the opportunity to assess what he is gaining from this arrangement. We mustn't disappoint him." "When?" I swallowed the lump in my throat, but it remained stubbornly lodged there. "When is the engagement party?" "In August. We haven't set a specific date yet." Two months. That was all the time I had left. I nodded numbly, my heart heavy with shattered dreams. In the romance novels I devoured, weddings were filled with anticipation and love. But now, those fantasies felt like empty illusions, the foolish dreams of a naive girl. "So, am I still allowed to attend school?" I asked, my voice tinged with bitterness. What did it matter if I graduated? I would never have the chance to pursue higher education or a career. My sole purpose would be to warm my husband's bed. My throat constricted further, and tears threatened to spill, but I fought to keep them at bay. Father despised any display of weakness. "Yes, I informed Foster that you attend an all-girls Catholic school, and he seemed pleased with the arrangement." Of course, he would be. They couldn't risk me coming into contact with any boys. "Is that all?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "For now," Father replied, his tone final and unyielding. Leaving Father's office, I felt as if I were moving through a trance. I had turned fifteen just four months ago, believing it to be a milestone towards a bright future. How foolish I had been. My life was already predetermined, my fate sealed before it had even begun. Every decision had been made for me, leaving me powerless and trapped. ***
CHAPTER ONE (2)
Tears streamed down my face, unstoppable and relentless. Diana, my younger sister by only eighteen months, offered solace by gently stroking my hair as I lay with my head cradled in her lap. Today, those seemingly insignificant eighteen months felt like an insurmountable chasm separating me from freedom and condemning me to a loveless existence. I fought against the bitterness that threatened to consume me, reminding myself that Diana bore no responsibility for our predicament. In a soft voice, she suggested, "Perhaps you could try talking to Father again. Maybe he will reconsider." A hollow laugh escaped my lips. "He won't." Diana's eyes, a mirror image of my own cloudless summer sky blue, gazed at me with pity. Her fiery red hair contrasted with my own light blond locks. Father would occasionally refer to her as a witch, but it was far from an endearing term. "Maybe Mother can persuade him," she offered hopefully. I scoffed at the idea. As if Father would ever allow a woman to make decisions for him. "Nothing anyone says or does will make a difference," I admitted, my voice heavy with despair. I hadn't seen Mother since she had sent me into Father's office. Perhaps she couldn't bear to face me, knowing the fate she had condemned me to. "But Felicity—" I raised my head, wiping away the tears that stained my cheeks. Diana's gaze remained fixed on me, filled with genuine concern. "He made a deal with Brian's father," I explained bitterly. "They met?" Diana asked, her voice laced with surprise. The same question had plagued my thoughts. Why had Father found time to meet with the head of the New York Familia, yet failed to inform me of his plans to sell me off like a prized possession? I pushed aside the frustration and despair that threatened to consume me. "That's what Father told me," I replied, my voice tinged with resignation. Diana refused to accept defeat. "There must be something we can do," she insisted. I shook my head, my heart heavy with the weight of our circumstances. "There isn't." "But you haven't even met this guy," Diana argued, her voice filled with determination. "You don't even know what he looks like! He could be hideous, old, and repulsive." If only Brian's appearance were my sole concern. "Let's search for him online," I suggested, a glimmer of hope igniting within me. "Surely there must be photographs of him on the internet."With a sudden burst of energy, Diana leapt up from her seat and snatched my laptop from the desk. She plopped down beside me, our bodies pressed together in an intimate proximity. As we scrolled through the digital archives, our eyes were drawn to a series of photographs and articles featuring Brian. The intensity of his cold, gray eyes sent shivers down my spine. I could almost envision the chilling gaze he bestowed upon his unfortunate victims before ending their lives with a single bullet. "Look at how tall he is!" Diana exclaimed, her voice tinged with awe. And indeed, in every snapshot, he towered over those who stood beside him, his muscular frame adding to his imposing presence. It was no wonder that some people whispered the moniker "the Bull" behind his back. The articles referred to him as the heir to Zain Foster, the businessman and club owner. But we both knew the truth about Zain Foster's empire, even if it remained unspoken in the public eye. "And did you see all those different girls he's with?" Diana continued, her tone filled with disbelief. I couldn't help but fixate on the emotionless visage of my future husband. According to the newspapers, he was the most eligible bachelor in New York, destined to inherit a fortune worth hundreds of millions. But what they failed to mention was that he was also the heir to a realm of darkness and bloodshed. Diana let out a frustrated sigh. "It's infuriating how these girls throw themselves at him. I bet they find him attractive." "They can have him," I responded bitterly. In our world, beauty often concealed the monster within. The society girls were captivated by his handsome facade and wealth, oblivious to the sinister aura that surrounded him. They were enamored by his predatory charm because it exuded power. Little did they know, beneath that arrogant smile lay a realm of blood and death. An abrupt surge of determination coursed through me, compelling me to rise from my seat. "I need to speak with Langston." Langston, my father's trusted soldier, was nearing fifty and served as our bodyguard. He possessed an encyclopedic knowledge of everyone and everything. My mother often referred to him as a scandalmonger, but if there was anyone who held valuable information about Brian, it was Langston."He was inducted as a Made Man at the tender age of eleven," Langston disclosed, meticulously sharpening his knife on a grinder, a daily ritual. The scent of tomato and oregano wafted through the kitchen, but it failed to bring me the usual solace. "At eleven?" I managed to ask, attempting to maintain composure. Most individuals didn't attain full membership in the Mafia until they reached the age of sixteen. "Because of his father?" Langston's grin widened, exposing a glimmering gold incisor, and he paused his actions. "You think he had it easy just because he's the Boss's son? He took a life at eleven, which is why they decided to initiate him early." Diana gasped. "He's a monster." Langston shrugged. "He is what he needs to be. You can't be weak when you rule over New York." He offered a sheepish smile. "A coward." "What happened?" I hesitated, unsure if I truly wanted to know. If Brian had killed his first man at eleven, how many more had he snuffed out in the nine years since? Langston shook his closely-shaved head and scratched the lengthy scar that traversed from his temple to his chin. He was lean and unassuming, but Mother once confided that few were as swift with a blade as him. I had never witnessed him in a fight. "Can't say. I'm not intimately familiar with New York." My gaze fixated on our cook as she diligently prepared dinner, desperately seeking an anchor amidst my roiling stomach and pervasive fear. Langston scrutinized my expression. "He's a valuable catch. Soon enough, he'll be the most formidable figure on the East Coast. He'll protect you." "And who will protect me from him?" I seethed. Langston remained silent, for the answer was unmistakable: no one could shield me from Brian once we were wed. Neither Langston nor my father, should he be inclined to do so. Women in our realm belonged to their husbands, existing as possessions to be dealt with at their whims.
CHAPTER TWO
The past few months had flown by, leaving me little time to prepare for what was to come. Only two days remained until my engagement party. My mother was in a frenzy, barking orders at the servants, ensuring that every corner of the house was pristine and that nothing went awry. It wasn't even going to be a grand celebration. Only our families, Brian's family, and the families of the New York and Chicago heads were invited. Langston claimed it was for safety purposes. The truce between the families was still fragile, and a gathering of hundreds of guests was deemed too risky. I secretly wished they would cancel the whole affair. I didn't see the need to meet Brian until our wedding day. Meanwhile, Lucas, my energetic five-year-old brother, bounced up and down on my bed, a pout etched on his face. "I want to play!" he whined. "Mother doesn't want you running around the house. Everything needs to be perfect for the guests," I explained. "But they're not even here!" Thank goodness. Brian and the New York guests were scheduled to arrive tomorrow. Just one more night until I would come face to face with my future husband, a man who had the capacity to kill with his own hands. I closed my eyes, trying to calm my racing thoughts. "Are you crying again?" Lucas hopped off the bed and approached me, slipping his small hand into mine. His messy, dark blonde hair stuck up in all directions. I attempted to smooth it down, but he pulled away. "What do you mean?" I asked, feigning ignorance. I had tried my best to hide my tears from him, usually shedding them in the safety of darkness. "Lily says you cry all the time because Brian bought you," he confessed. I froze. I needed to have a talk with Liliana, to make her stop spreading such rumors. It would only get me into trouble. "He didn't buy me," I lied through gritted teeth. "Same difference," Diana chimed in from the doorway, startling me. "Shhh. What if Father hears us?" I whispered urgently. Diana shrugged nonchalantly. "He knows how much I despise the fact that he treated you like a commodity, selling you off like a cow.""Diana," I cautioned, gesturing towards Lucas. His eyes met mine, filled with a mixture of longing and apprehension. "I don't want you to go," he murmured. "I'll be here for a while, Fabi," I reassured him, hoping my words would ease his worries. Instantly, his anxious expression morphed into mischievous delight. "Catch me!" he exclaimed, shoving Diana aside as he sprinted past her. Diana chased after him, her determination evident in every stride. "I'll teach you a lesson, you little troublemaker!" I hurried into the corridor, glancing back to see Liliana peering out of her room before joining the pursuit. If they broke another family heirloom, Mother would surely have my head. Racing down the stairs, I saw Lucas maintaining his lead. He was swift, but Liliana was closing in, while Diana and I struggled in the high heels our mother insisted we wear for practice. Lucas veered into the west wing of the house, and we followed suit. Panic surged within me. Father's office was in this section - if he caught us fooling around, we would face dire consequences. Lucas was supposed to act like a grown man, but what five-year-old truly did? As we passed Father's door, relief washed over me, only to be replaced by dread as three men turned the corner at the end of the corridor. I opened my mouth to shout a warning, but it was too late. Lucas skidded to a halt, but Liliana collided with the man in the center, sending them both off balance. Most people would have stumbled, but this man, towering at six foot five, stood firm as a bull. Time seemed to freeze as I came to an abrupt stop. Diana gasped beside me, but my eyes remained fixed on my future husband. He gazed down at my little sister's blond head, his strong hands steadying her. Hands that had once crushed a man's throat. "Liliana," I managed to utter, my voice trembling with fear.I rarely used my sister's full name, unless she was in trouble or something was seriously wrong. I wished I could hide my terror better. All eyes were on me now, including Brian's. His cold gray eyes scanned me from head to toe, lingering on my hair. Damn, he was tall. The men standing beside him were both over six feet, but he dwarfed them. His hands were still resting on Lily's shoulders. "Liliana, come here," I said firmly, holding out a hand. I wanted her far away from Brian. She stumbled backward, then flew into my arms, burying her face against my shoulder. Brian raised one black eyebrow. "That's Brian Foster!" Diana chimed in helpfully, not even bothering to hide her disgust. Lucas let out a sound like an enraged wildcat and charged towards Brian, pummeling his legs and stomach with his small fists. "Leave Felicity alone! You don't get her!" My heart stopped right then. The man by Brian's side took a step forward. I could see the outline of a gun under his vest. He had to be Brian's bodyguard, though I couldn't fathom why he needed one. "No, Kieran," Brian said simply, and the man froze. Brian caught my brother's hands in his own, stopping the assault. I doubted he even felt the blows. I pushed Lily towards Diana, who wrapped a protective arm around her, then I approached Brian. I was scared out of my mind, but I needed to get Lucas away from him. Maybe New York and Chicago were trying to bury their feud, but alliances could crumble in an instant. It wouldn't be the first time. Brian and his men were still the enemy. "What a warm welcome we receive. That's the infamous hospitality of the Outfit," said the other man standing with Brian. He had the same black hair, but his eyes were darker. He was a couple of inches shorter than Brian and not as broad, but there was no mistaking that they were brothers."Craig," Brian's voice slipped from his lips in a low tone, sending a shiver down my spine. Lucas continued to growl and thrash like a wild beast, but Brian held him at arm's length. "Lucas," I asserted firmly, my grip tightening on his upper arm. "Enough. That's not how we treat guests." Lucas froze, his gaze piercing through me as he turned his head. "He's not a guest. He wants to steal you away, Felicity." Craig chuckled, his amusement filling the air. "This is too good. I'm glad Father convinced me to come." "Ordered you," Brian corrected, his eyes never leaving mine. I couldn't meet his gaze. Heat flushed my cheeks under his scrutiny. My father and his bodyguards kept Diana, Lily, and me shielded from the presence of men, only allowing family or those who were ancient near us. Brian was neither family nor old. He was just five years older than me, but he exuded a manliness that made me feel like a small girl in comparison. Brian released his hold on Lucas, and I pulled him closer, his back pressed against my legs. I clasped my hands over his small, quivering chest. He continued to glare at Brian. I wished I possessed his courage, but he was a boy, an heir to my father's title. He wouldn't be forced to obey anyone, except for the Boss. Courage came at a luxury for him. "I apologize," I uttered, though the words tasted bitter on my tongue. "My brother didn't mean to be disrespectful." "I did!" Lucas shouted, but I swiftly covered his mouth with my palm, refusing to release him even as he squirmed. "No need to apologize," Diana interjected sharply, disregarding the warning glance I shot her. "It's not our fault that he and his bodyguards take up so much space in the corridor. At least Lucas speaks the truth. Everyone else feels the need to butter him up because he's going to be Capo—" "Diana!" My voice cracked like a whip. She snapped her lips shut, her eyes widening as she stared at me."Escort Lily and Lucas to their chambers immediately," the woman commanded, her voice laced with urgency. Relieved that I couldn't witness Brian's reaction, I braced myself to face him and his entourage. Expecting a wave of fury, I was taken aback when I discovered a smirk etched across Brian's face. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and as I stood alone with the three men, nerves twisted in my stomach. Mother would throw a fit if she found out I hadn't dressed up for this first encounter with Brian. Clad in one of my favorite maxi dresses, its sleeves offering me some protection, I folded my arms across my body, unsure of how to proceed. "I apologize for the behavior of my sister and brother," I stammered, searching for a word that wouldn't label them as simply rude. "They're protective of you," Brian interjected, his voice devoid of emotion. His words hung in the air, leaving an uncomfortable tension between us. "This is my brother, Craig." Craig's lips stretched into a wide grin, but he wisely refrained from extending his hand. I doubted I could maintain my composure if either of them dared to invade my personal space. "And this is my right-hand man, Kieran." With the briefest of nods, Kieran returned his focus to scanning the corridor. What was he waiting for? We didn't have hidden assassins lurking in secret trap doors. I fixated on Brian's chin, hoping it appeared as though I were meeting his gaze. Taking a step back, I mustered the courage to speak. "I should go check on my siblings." Brian wore a knowing expression, but I refused to let him see how uncomfortable, how frightened he made me feel. Without waiting for his permission – after all, he wasn't yet my husband or even my fiancé – I turned on my heel and swiftly walked away, proud that I hadn't succumbed to the overwhelming urge to run.
CHAPTER TWO (2)
Mother tugged at the dress Father had chosen for the occasion. It was what Diana referred to as the "meat show." But no matter how much Mother tugged, the dress stubbornly refused to lengthen. I stared at myself in the mirror, feeling uncertain. I had never worn anything so revealing before. The black dress clung to my figure, accentuating my curves, and ended just above my thighs. The top was a glittery golden bustier with delicate black tulle straps. "I can't wear that, Mother," I protested. Mother met my gaze in the mirror, her own hair pinned up elegantly, a few shades darker than mine. She was dressed modestly in a floor-length gown. I wished I could have something like that. "You look like a woman," she whispered. I cringed. "I look like a hooker." "Hookers can't afford a dress like that," she replied matter-of-factly. Father's mistress had clothes that cost more than some people's cars. Mother placed her hands on my waist. "You have a slender waist, and the dress makes your legs look incredibly long. I'm sure Brian will appreciate it." I glanced down at my cleavage, my small breasts barely filling out the bustier. I was a fifteen-year-old girl dressed up to look like a grown woman. "Here," Mother handed me a pair of five-inch black heels. Maybe with them on, I'd be able to reach Brian's chin. I slipped my feet into the towering shoes. Mother forced a smile onto her face and smoothed down my long hair. "Hold your head high. Wayne Wood called you the most beautiful woman in Chicago. Show Brian and his entourage that you are more beautiful than any woman in New York too. After all, Brian knows almost all of them." The way she said it made me certain that she had read the articles about Brian's conquests as well, or perhaps Father had shared some information with her. "Mother," I hesitated, but she stepped back. "Now go. I'll join you shortly, but this is your moment. You should enter the room alone. The men will be waiting. Your father will introduce you to Brian, and then we'll all gather in the dining room for dinner." She had repeated these instructions countless times already. For a brief moment, I wanted to reach out and take her hand, begging her to accompany me. Instead, I turned away and walked out of my room. I was grateful that Mother had insisted on me wearing heels in the weeks leading up to this event.As I stood before the imposing door to the fireplace lounge, my heart raced in my chest. Diana, my trusted companion, was absent, undoubtedly being lectured by Mother on proper behavior. I was left to face this daunting task alone. No one was allowed to overshadow the bride-to-be. I hesitated, my gaze fixed on the dark wood of the door. A chorus of masculine laughter emanated from within, my father and the Boss among them. The room housed the most influential and dangerous men in the country, and I, like a lamb, was expected to enter. Alone. Amongst wolves. I shook off the fear that gripped me, refusing to succumb to such thoughts. I had already kept them waiting for far too long. With determination, I grasped the handle and pushed it down. Slipping inside, I avoided meeting anyone's gaze as I closed the door behind me. Summoning every ounce of courage, I turned to face the room. Conversation abruptly ceased, leaving an unsettling silence in its wake. Should I say something? A shiver ran through me, and I prayed they couldn't see it. My father wore a smug smile, satisfied with himself. I sought out Brian, his intense stare rendering me immobile. I held my breath, waiting for someone to break the tension. Brian placed a glass, filled with a dark liquid, on the table with a resounding clank. If no one spoke soon, I would be tempted to flee the room. I quickly scanned the faces of the assembled men. From New York, there were Craig, Brian, and Zain Foster, accompanied by two bodyguards: Kieran and an unfamiliar young man. Representing the Chicago Outfit were my father, Wayne Wood, and his son, the future head, Daxton Wood. Also present were Langston and my detested cousin, Ronin. Off to the side stood Lucas, compelled to wear a black suit like the rest. I could see the longing in his eyes, yearning to seek solace in my presence, but he knew Father's disapproval all too well. Finally, my father moved towards me, placing a hand on my back and guiding me towards the assembled men, akin to leading a lamb to slaughter. The only person who seemed utterly bored was Daxton Wood, his gaze fixed solely on his glass of Scotch. Our families had recently attended his wife's funeral, leaving him a widower in his thirties. I almost felt sorry for him if he didn't instill such fear in me, much like Brian did.Father guided me towards Brian, his expression expectant, as if he anticipated Brian to be overwhelmed by my presence. But judging from Brian's stoic gaze, he might as well have been staring at a lifeless rock. His cold gray eyes remained fixed on my father. "This is my daughter, Felicity," Father introduced me. It seemed that Brian hadn't mentioned our embarrassing encounter. Wayne Wood chimed in, "I didn't exaggerate, did I?" I wished the ground would open up and swallow me whole. I had never been subjected to so much attention before. The way Ronin looked at me sent shivers down my spine. He had recently joined our circle and had just turned eighteen two weeks ago. Since then, he had become even more unbearable than before. "You didn't," Brian replied simply. Father seemed visibly put off. Unbeknownst to anyone else, Lucas had quietly approached me from behind and slipped his hand into mine. Well, anyone except Brian, who was now staring at my brother, his gaze dangerously close to my exposed thighs. I shifted uncomfortably, and Brian quickly averted his eyes. "Maybe the future bride and groom would like a few moments alone?" suggested Zain Foster. My eyes widened in shock, but I couldn't conceal it quickly enough. Brian had noticed, yet he didn't seem to care. Father smiled and turned to leave. I couldn't believe it. "Should I stay?" Langston asked. I gave him a quick smile, which faded when Father shook his head. "Give them some privacy," he said. Zain Foster even winked at Brian. They all filed out of the room until only Brian, Lucas, and I remained. "Lucas," Father's voice cut through the silence. "Leave immediately." Reluctantly, Lucas released my hand and departed, but not before giving Brian the most fierce glare a five-year-old could muster. Brian's lips curved into a subtle smile. Then the door closed, leaving us alone. What did Brian's father's wink mean? I stole a glance at Brian. Just as I suspected, with my high heels, the top of my head barely reached his chin. He gazed out the window, not sparing me a single glance. Dressing me up like a seductress didn't make Brian any more interested in me. Why would he be? I had seen the women he dated in New York. They would have filled out the bustier far better than I ever could. "Did you choose the dress?" he suddenly spoke, startling me.His voice resonated with a deep, unwavering calmness that seemed to be a permanent fixture. I couldn't help but wonder if he had ever been anything but composed. "No," I found myself admitting, my voice barely more than a whisper. "My father never did." A flicker of movement caught my attention, and I turned to face Brian, my heart pounding in my chest. His jaw twitched, his expression unreadable, and the uncertainty made me increasingly nervous. My mind raced, imagining the worst as he reached inside his jacket. For a brief, irrational moment, I thought he was pulling out a gun, ready to bring our conversation to a violent end. But instead, he revealed a black box, holding it delicately in his hand. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the box, my gaze fixated on its sleek black exterior. It matched his attire perfectly - black shirt, black tie, black jacket. Black like his soul, I couldn't help but think bitterly. This was the moment that countless women dreamed of, the moment that was supposed to fill me with joy and excitement. But instead, a coldness settled over me as Brian opened the box. Nestled inside was a white gold ring, adorned with a sizable diamond at its center, flanked by two slightly smaller diamonds. I remained frozen, unable to move or react. Brian extended his hand, breaking the tension between us. I felt my cheeks flush as I hesitantly reached out, my hand trembling. The touch of his skin against mine made me flinch involuntarily. With a swift motion, he slipped the engagement ring onto my finger, and then released me. "Thank you," I murmured, feeling obligated to say the words and meet his impassive gaze. But behind the mask of indifference, his eyes betrayed a hint of anger. Had I done something wrong? Confusion clouded my thoughts as he offered his arm, silently urging me to link mine through his. Without a word, he guided me out of the lounge and towards the dining room, the silence between us growing heavier with each step. Maybe Brian was disappointed enough in me that he would call off our arrangement. But then again, he wouldn't have placed the ring on my finger if that were the case. As we entered the dining room, I noticed that the women from my family had joined the men. The Fosters, on the other hand, had not brought any female companions. Perhaps they didn't trust my father and the Woods enough to expose their women to our house. I couldn't blame them. I wouldn't trust my father or the Boss either. Brian released my arm, and I quickly joined my mother and sisters, pretending to admire the ring on my finger. Diana shot me a knowing look, her eyes filled with unspoken words. I didn't know what my mother had threatened her with to keep her silent, but I could sense that Diana was itching to unleash a scathing comment. I shook my head at her, silently pleading for her to hold her tongue. She rolled her eyes in response. The dinner passed in a blur, the men engrossed in their business discussions while we women remained silent and obedient. My eyes kept drifting towards the weighty ring on my finger, a constant reminder of the commitment I had just entered into. It felt suffocating, constricting, like a heavy burden that I was forced to bear. Brian had marked me as his possession, and I couldn't shake off the feeling of being trapped.
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