A Bride For The Mafia King

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e smell that clings to it makes my stomach churn. It's musty. Dry, and reeks with dust. I suppress the urge to fling it away becaus

s behind me. It's the fifth time she's wondering aloud why she has to work with an old, musty, smelly veil when a new one stays tucked in its

like a funeral. No, a funeral wo

ad it a

n. I've envisioned my wedding day so many times, despite my fate.

I expec

tepping away from me and dust

e two fucks about that. Lifting my face tentatively, I let my eyes roam over m

e. “Fernando is the embodiment of niceties, but I'm doubl

irthmark on the side of her face. Her soft, pitch-black tresses frame her almond face, and enhance her small, pretty eyes. The expression; a green sn

to get used to it. I'll only have

amn one he sent? I swear, you

he crinkles on my gown. She has a point th

gi

ot a

il for this disgusting wedding ceremony. They know

ng out loud. Why are they honouring

e hard at them. Tiny metal demons. I could take them. Knock her over. That part w

ile away, announcing the approac

ere they locked me in. My own brothers. F

take me kicking, screaming and crying if I do, I very well know that. Besides, I'm smart enough no

whistle pierce through the air, followed by a loud thud like

way through the thick, metal door — straight into the mirror, shattering it, shattering my miserab

a strong of wo

t of daises. Suddenly, the door is kicked open, banging against the wall as heavily armed men in military uniform file i

r. They're twice a dozen, and I don't recognize any

going on? Had Fer

l blubbering something in Ru

of what exactly is going on as another set of footsteps approach. Slow, firm, not in a h

s face. He's the one

or blood. I

tone, every cobweb, every sand particle. And when brilliant cerulean blue e

down at her, mildly irritated, and she doesn't make it far. An echo of bullets knocks he

ow hard

can't afford to. One bullet wo

The worst ki

aking one back too, knocking the chair behind me to the floor, my heart in my mouth. My

t of them all blocks the exit with his huge frame. There are no windows for me to jump out through. Besides, I'll never be

. This wasn't meant

to charge them, to risk a dozen bullets putting me down like they

ring finger where the hideous, pathetic diamond ring catches the light from the waning sun streaming in through a hole in the wall. He inspects it, and for

roat, making it diffi

one hand still locked around wrist. I gas

hell is

s me to him, his body a solid

eck, out of the way, his fingers rough against my skin, fingers tugging, bruising. I fear he's going to

unexpected. Th

y arms drop uselessly to my sides. He shifts his grip and as I slip, weakened, he lifts me up