Chapter Two
Alba
Three Weeks Later
One day, I would wake up, get changed, do all the regular things I was supposed to. Use the bathroom, brush my teeth, wash my face, comb my hair. Move to my bedroom, change into the clothes of the day—usually something that hid my body. My parents were happy with me as long as I looked clean and casual.
The next part of my day would be breakfast, and then I’d head out to walk in the garden, because I wasn’t allowed to just randomly go walking. My freedom came at a cost of a soldier or guard, whichever they wanted to be called.
Most of my days were spent indoors. My sisters and I were homeschooled. We got a high school education from tutors. That was where our education stopped. Anything more was out of the question. We were to be wives. Mothers to the future generation. All we could do was stand around and look pretty, or as my father would say, “just stand around.”
My sisters got most of the attention at all the parties. I was happy with that. I loved my books. I lived and stayed sane through books. My dad didn’t seem to mind my obsession with books. It kept me out of trouble, whereas my other sister Chiara was harder to please. She often needed trips to the shops, and stuff like that. My sister liked to go shopping, and my older sister loved places like museums. Again, I enjoyed all of that, but I preferred to do it without the company of … complaints.
Again, this was my life three-plus weeks ago. The same day, over and over, on repeat.
Staring down at my wedding ring, all of that changed because of this one piece of jewelry. I was a married woman. Nolonger Alba Marini, but Alba Kemp. Wife to a crime lord. Wife to what many called a monster.
Not many people knew much about him. It was like he appeared out of thin air and came to this planet with the very intention of causing trouble. At least, that is the way it seemed, but I don’t think it was the truth. Far from it. There was more to him than met the eye.
These past three weeks had been so far out of anything I expected. So, my expectations, no matter how brief, were for me to be nothing more than a prisoner. My husband’s prisoner. I expected to be trapped in an apartment or a house, or even a damn cage.
The way the Serra Mafia talked, this man didn’t even know proper etiquette. That had not been my life. I was by his side every single minute of every single day. That first night, he took me aside and told me if I was loyal to him, and only to him, my life was about to get better. My father had slipped me a cell phone and told me he wanted to garner all my husband’s secrets.
All my life, my parents had told me that loyalty between a married couple was the most sacred, that it was to be respected, yet they were more than willing for me to break that to satisfy their own messy means. It pissed me off.
Staring into Odin’s eyes as he asked me if there was anything I wanted to confess, I felt the pressure of that phone. I didn’t lie. I pulled that phone out of my pocket and repeated the same words my father had told me.
There were not going to be any lies between me and my husband. In the space of twenty-four hours, I had chosen my husband over my family. After I did that, I was terrified. Odin could kill me. I did have the cell phone, not that I used it. Only, he was nothing but kind and gentle with me.
We arrived at his apartment, which was not some massively fancy penthouse suite, but a studio apartment in asmall part of the city. It was a nice neighborhood as the kids were out on the street, playing, doing what they needed to do.
There was security. I noticed the men patrolling the streets. Odin had protection. This was just all new. My family’s protection were men and large iron gates that were supposed to be impenetrable. I knew that wasn’t the case as people had gotten through them so many times before.
Odin had a lot of different businesses. There was not one office hub, but we traveled, and I went with him.
His studio apartment shocked me, as we were sharing a bed. I was sharing a bed with my husband, and I was still a virgin.
My family’s tradition and that of the Serra Mafia, to show off the bloody sheets, hadn’t happened. It made me so thankful to Odin. I always hated attending those functions. The women never looked happy about it, and often, it appeared they faked it. They always looked in pain.
Not only did I sleep in Odin’s bed, we shared breakfast together, lunch, and even dinner. I was by his side the whole time. Chiara would be jealous because when I arrived, I also had a whole new wardrobe of clothes I was never allowed to wear before. Jeans that actually fit my larger figure. Shirts that were not a gazillion sizes too big. There were dresses, skirts, pants, blouses, it was a woman’s absolute dream, and I loved it, because I didn’t have to go out shopping for it. I hate shopping, I hate it with a passion, but now I have so many different clothes and lingerie. I loved my new and exciting wardrobe. It thrilled me.
And of course, my life with Odin.
We rarely did the same thing twice. Odin had businesses everywhere and anywhere. Nightclubs, cafés, restaurants, laundry shops, casinos, small businesses like artisan places. His reach was wide, and he was very busy.
I didn’t always understand the work, but the men and women who knew him had a deep respect for him. And day by day, over the past three weeks, I had come to enjoy his company.
Which is why, as we were about to embark on our fourth week, I stepped into the kitchen, determined to make him breakfast. I happened to love to cook, but the only time I could do it at home was when my parents were not around. They didn’t like their daughter working in the kitchen. Their daughters were not to work. Once again, only to stand around and look pretty.
Opening up the fridge, I spotted the pack of bacon and eggs, and I pulled them out. I tucked some of my hair behind my ear, and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. Glancing down at my jeans and black shirt, I didn’t want to risk getting grease splattered all over it, and I spotted the apron in the corner. I quickly pulled it on over my head and got to work making breakfast.
My sisters had been pissed at me, getting the opportunity to marry this complete stranger, and now I know why. This stranger had given me more freedom in the past three weeks than I ever had in the whole twenty years of living with my parents.
“Something smells good,” Odin said, stepping out of the bedroom.
For the first couple of days of married life, I didn’t speak. I didn’t know what was expected of me.
“I hope you’re hungry. I’m making you some bacon and scrambled eggs.”
