Mafia Arranged Marriage

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Aiyana Valentino

"No one will see anything about anything!" I huff out frustratedly, is this how low he thinks of me? That I'll gladly allow him to play me like a puppet for his own benefit? Stringing me along whatever beat he selects? I'll be damned.

"Now, before we get ahead of ourselves, let's have a little fruitful conversation" He orders with a thunderous voice, quite bossy and opposite to his words, and I find myself leaning back in my chair, ready to pounce and deny whatever devious tactic he's thinking of convincing me with.

"You know, as a Vasquez, your loyalties lie with the mafia, before anyone or anything. You grew up here, with people ready to sacrifice their lives any given minute just to ensure your safety and security" He starts and I know, and I'm immensely grateful for that, but it doesn't mean he'll guilt trip me into doing what he wants me to do.

"I know, and I'm not trying to be ungrateful, but it's not a good enough reason to sell out. Nothing is in fact is"

"So you decided to side with the husband you've only known for months, over the family you grew up in for the last twenty three years? You tell me you're ready to throw that out the door for the sake of your feelings? Something so uncertain and temporary?" He questions and I want to shout that it's not. I know it's not, I'm sure it's not.

"You don't know—" I start but he raises a finger signaling for me to stop, I huff and cross my arms on my chest and pout in aggravation.

"I'm not finished" was all he said before he opened up a drawer in his desk, pulling out a black file. He takes his time in skimming through the written words and a wave of sadness flashes through his eyes before it wipes out completely, leaving nothing but the hard exterior I'm all too familiar with.

He stares at me smugly, like we're in a game of poker and he holds the winning card and he knows it, a shiver runs down my spine at the possibility of what that file may contain.

"I really didn't want to bring this, but you gave me no other choice. I had to convince you, and seeming that not your blood-ties to me or your duty towards this mafia can successfully get you to agree, I'm sure once you take a look at this, you'll change your mind" He says before tossing the file my way, landing just in front of me on the table.

I lean forward, slightly sceptic with proceeding, though I will myself anyway because my curiosity got the better of me. I need to know what his winning card is, what he's sure will get my hell bent position to change.

My fingers grip the smooth sides with a little added force, my eyes going through the white neatly pages. Once I find it my whole face pales, the color counterfeiting entirely from my rigid face.

My eyes snap to Sebastian whom sports a smug smile, knowing he secured this in the bag, before resting my gaze on the figure of my father.

"What is this?" I ask, my voice hoarse, betraying me in a mere squeeky whisper.

"What does it say?" He asks rhetorically and I take another glance, just to ensure that my eyes are not playing any tricks on me.

"How? How long have you known this? Why you've never mentioned this before? How can I know that this is true?" I ask trying to question the engraved ink on the white sheets. There's no way this is real..

"I've come to know this about a year ago, and since then, I've started planning my revenge and comeback all in once." He says and my heart could burst out of my ribcage at any second now, and not for any good reasons.

"Now, what do you say? Are you in or not?" He asks warily, waiting for my answer, eager for me to agree in order to set the final step in motion.

"But how can I be sure that this is real? That you didn't fabricate this to get me to agree?" I say holding the file up in my hand, hoping it's just a sick joke they're playing on me.

"You want proof that this is real? Easy" He scoffs like I just asked for the most absurd thing in the entire world.

"Ask your husband whether he killed your mother, I'm sure he remembers" My heart stops for a moment at the loud confession. I fight the urge to crawl in a ball and cry as I drag my heavy body out.

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A/n:
Honestly,
the fuck is going on?!