Chapter One
Alba
I hate my father.
And I hate what he is making me and my two sisters do. Of course, Chiara and Viola love it. Anything to make them the center of attention. I don’t mind. While my sisters got my mom’s perfect gene, I got the one that drove my father crazy. They had beautiful blonde hair, slender figures. They walked into a room and men adored them instantly.
As for me, I heard I was called the ugly duckling of the family, with mousey-brown hair and brown eyes. I could look at a cupcake and gain three hundred pounds, or at least that was what it felt like. My sisters could eat what they wanted and never gain a pound. Trust me, I know this, because they liked to regularly tell me their weight and how gorgeous they looked. I do love my sisters, at least I think I do.
Love is that fickle emotion I’ve read about in books, but we’re talking about the love between a man and woman. When it comes to my sisters, I care about them and never want anything bad to happen to them. Anyway, both Chiara and Viola were excited about the situation we were in.
My name is Alba Marini, daughter of Roberto and Alice Marini. My father is a Capo in the Serra Mafia, and there are protocols. I’m not sure exactly what has happened, but it is up to my father to put one of his daughters forward for marriage. He has three daughters and two sons. Both my brothers were already married off. Marriage in the Serra Mafia is nothing more than a business contract.
We all know what goes on behind closed doors. My parents are somewhat of an anomaly within the Serra Mafia. They had an arranged marriage that by some twist of fate turned into a love match. My father doesn’t have a mistress, though I know a lot of men within the Serra Mafia have more than one woman on the go. The bonus about being the ugly duckling is you become invisible, which makes you forgettable. There are a lot of people who continue to have really deep, meaningful conversations while I’m still in the room within hearing distance.
There is a lot of stuff I know about the Serra Mafia that would make other people’s heads spin. My sisters only care about keeping to a lifestyle. They don’t know where that money comes from, but I do.
I know some of theservantsare in fact trafficked. Men and women taken from their lives, beaten into submission, and then worked for no money. I hate it, but there’s nothing I can do. I’m bound by my heritage. The only thing I can do is leave money or gifts, and I certainly don’t allow anyone to take care of me. I clean up my own messes, and I don’t make their lives hard. In fact, there were a few servantsat home I’ve taken the blame for when they broke cutlery, just so they wouldn’t get punished.
My parents were different in many ways, but not in the way their world worked. They were just as bad, just as involved as other Capos within the Serra Mafia.
So, what was different about this?
We stood in my father’s office, my sisters dressed like they were on dates. I was in my usual slacks, plain t-shirt, with a cardigan over the top. I held a book in my hand, and yes, it was a romance book, because why not? Life might suck, but books provided an outlet that nothing else could.
We’d just been told that Odin Kemp would be arriving in a matter of minutes, and one of us would become his wife.
Odin Kemp was not part of the Mafia. To many, he was a bastard. His name stoked fear and resentment across the whole Serra Mafia. I heard his name whispered as if he was some kind of bogeyman. I’d never seen anyone so feared, and yet Odin was the Devil. At times, it was like they were afraid to even mention his name. That fear made me curious.
I didn’t understand why I was here. He would never go for me since I was the ugly duckling of the family. There was a time that made me sad, but now I wear that badge with honor. I am who I am, and I’m not changing. I’m brown-haired, brown-eyed, with curves, and no man has ever looked at me with anything other than dismissal.
It was kind of funny when Chiara looked at me.
“You couldn’t at least try?” she asked.
Chiara was the prettiest, and she was also Daddy’s favorite. I was the youngest, Chiara the middle, and Viola the eldest. Our father said he was waiting for the right match.
The truth was, my two sisters were picky, and I had no prospects. At this rate, I was going to die a spinster, and I’d be happy about that. Only, I don’t want cats. I’m not a cat woman, I prefer dogs. I think it’s something about the fact cats would eat their owners when they die, whereas dogs would rather curl up against you and die with you. Morbid, I know, but I like that kind of loyalty. Dogs are loyal. They are loving, nothing like humans.
I’ve yet to find a true loyal, loving human being. They don’t exist, at least not in my world.
I heard the sound of the door opening, and the temptation to go back to reading my book was strong, as it was just at a good part. I happened to enjoy reading sex in books. Yeah, I know, I know, but come on, sex in books sounds so amazing. I’d been to a couple of weddings, and the sex in books has screaming that makes the toes curl. The sex in reality sounds like death.
And then the door to my father’s office opened, and I finally got to see the monster everyone I knew feared. Odin Kemp.
He’s tall, there’s no denying that. He does not look like the Devil. Perhaps to some he might be the Devil. He has short, black hair, and I happened to spot a few streaks of grey. He’s not as old as I imagined. Someone who stoked fear should be older, shouldn’t they?
He’s not wearing a suit. Everyone in the Serra Mafia wears a suit. He’s in dark indigo jeans and a crisp white shirt, along with a leather jacket. The shirt is open, and I spot the ink that is up to his neck. I wonder how far down the ink goes.
Odin is far from what I expected.
I happen to lift my gaze, and I’m instantly held to the spot, because he is staring right back at me. No one stares at me. I’m no one. Yet, looking into his deep blue eyes, I have a feeling this man sees me. He doesn’t look away.
“As you can see, these are my daughters,” Roberto said.
I can’t look away. It’s like I’m pulled to look at him, and I hate that nervous feeling. It’s swirling in my core. I’m desperate for him to look away, but this is battle of wills, and he is the one that wins it. I have to avert my gaze. Staring at him is wrong.
Clenching my hands into fists, I held onto the book with a death grip.
