Forced To Marry The Mafia

The Confrontation

As the door closed behind our guests, I turned to my parents, my voice firm. "Father, Mother, we need to talk."My father, a formidable figure in the world of organized crime, leaned back in his chair, a silent acknowledgement that a confrontation was inevitable. My mother, the epitome of grace concealing cunning, folded her hands on the table, her eyes fixed on mine.

"I won't go through with this arranged marriage. I won't let you decide my future," I declared, my voice carrying the weight of defiance.

My father's expression hardened, the lines etching deeper into his face. "Elara, this alliance is crucial for the family. It's not a matter of choice." 

"But it is my life!" I retorted, the frustration bubbling within me. "You can't just dictate who I marry. I won't be a pawn in your power games."My mother interjected, her voice measured. "Elara, there are responsibilities that come with our position. You must understand."

"No, Mother, I won't understand. This is not a responsibility; it's a betrayal of my autonomy," I countered, my resolve unwavering. My father's eyes bore into mine, a silent warning. "Watch your tone, Elara."

"I won't watch anything. I won't let you control me any longer," I shot back, the simmering tension escalating. In the charged atmosphere, Jennie looked between us, sensing the storm that was about to break. "Elara, what's happening?"I offered her a reassuring smile, but my focus remained on my parents. "Jennie, we're leaving. Get your things."

My father's face darkened with a fury that had always lurked beneath his composed exterior. "You will do no such thing, Elara. This is not a choice."

"Oh, it is a choice," I declared, pushing back my chair and standing. "And I choose not to live under your oppressive decisions any longer." In the ensuing argument, I refused to back down. My plea, for the right to choose my life partner, fell on deaf ears. The discussion escalated into a battlefield of conflicting desires, a symphony of raised voices and clashing wills. 

Frustration reached its zenith, and I couldn't hold back the torrent of memories that surged within me. "Do you even remember what I had to endure for this family?" I exclaimed, my voice filled with a mix of anger and desperation. My father's gaze remained cold, unmoved by my emotional outburst. "What are you talking about?"

"Twelve years old. I was only twelve when you decided to send me to that house," I continued, the bitterness of the past choking my words. "I had to raise Jennie, protect her when I should have been worrying about school and friends."My mother's eyes softened, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. Jennie's expression shifted from shock to pity." 

I became a parent when I was still a child, and you didn't even blink. I had to shield her from the harsh realities of our world while you played your games," I continued, my voice steady, fueled by years of suppressed resentment. My father's face contorted with an emotion I couldn't quite place. "Elara, it was necessary. You did what needed to be done."

"Necessary? Necessary for whom? Not for me, not for Jennie. It was necessary for your 'business,' your power plays," I spat out, the truth bitter on my tongue. In the heat of the argument, my father's patience reached its limits. In a swift motion, his hand connected with my cheek, the sharp sound echoing through the room. I staggered backwards, my hand flying to my stinging face, but I refused to let him see my pain."You will marry into the Kim family, Elara. You will uphold our traditions and our honour," he declared the echo of his authoritative voice lingering in the room."I won't," I stated, my voice unwavering. "I won't let you dictate my life."

"This has to end," I said, my voice unwavering. "I won't marry him. I won't be a pawn in your game. Jennie and I have chosen our own path."My father's eyes bore into mine, a mix of disappointment and frustration evident in his gaze. "Elara, you can't defy us. You're part of this family."