The Mafia’s Reluctant Bride

CHAPTER ONE

>ISOLDE'S POV

>>THE MORETTI MANOR

The funeral was over and the people had gone.

But, the silence that filled the house and my head was so unbearable.

My father had just been laid to rest in the cemetery that was at the edge of our property.

My father's sudden death still felt as if it was a bad dream to me.

It hung over my head like a thick blanket that threatned to suffocate me.

I slowly took a seat on my bed with my back against the pillows.

My eyes stared at the newly painted walls of my room that we had done together.

Memories flooded my mind.

I remembered his laugh and the way he had splashed me with the green paint.

I remembered running and trying yo smear as much paint as I could all over his face.

And,he screamed my name in mock horror as I had done that.

It had been fun.

But now, those moments...

It was all over.

My father was gone.

I kept staring forward.

But my eyes, they were empty and I couldn’t even quite focus on anything.

Everything felt like a nightmare.

It was the kind that you can not wake up from no matter how hard you try.

I had never expected this.

I had grown up under the belief that nothing could ever touch me.

Don Moretti, my father had made sure of that.

He was always ready to shield me from anything that would ever bring harm to me.

He kept me away from every danger and lurking shadow.

And even some part of the family business that he believed I should never know.

He was my protector and my savior.

His love had been my safety.

But now, all of that was gone.

He had been assassinated in his bedroom by an unknown assailant.

I clearly remembered the sound of the gunshot reverberating in the house.

The claws of fear had gripped my chest tightly as terror washed over me.

I remembered running to his room with my heart slamming violently against my ribs.

I remembered seeing him there.

He had been lying in a pool of his blood, looking lifeless.

My brother was standing beside him and was screaming for an ambulance.

I remembered rushing up to them with the hot tears blurring my eyes.

They had dropped as I reached for him.

One touch and I just knew that he was dead.

I knew, even as I shook him, begging and pleading for him to awaken.

One minute, he was there.

And the next, he was gone.

It had all happened quuckly.

He ceased to exist, just like that.

I swallowed hard because my throat was tight from being overwhelmed.

And this moment, the painful tears burned at the back of my eyes.

My shoulders shook while they were sliding down my cheeks as I cried harder.

My heart felt like it was being torn to pieces as I shook with each sob.

I trembled as I expelled my grief, crying till there was no more tears.

My father's death had shattered my world and bringing with it the real nightmare.

The empire that he had built with his sweat and blood was starting to crumble.

The same one that he had kept me away from.

And, I did not know how to fix this.

I did not know how to fix any of it.

And neither did my brother, Leonardo who was my father's heir.

Leonardo had taken over as the new Capo right after the assassination.

But he was not Don Moretti.

No one could ever be.

None could replace my father.

Leonardo lacked the respect that our father had singlehandedly commanded.

He was not the ruthless and calculated man that our father had been.

And it was evident.

The enemies that we had controlled for so long began to perceive that weakness.

And soon they were moving in and striking us from every corner and all sides.

All of the allies that we had put our trust in for years had turned against us.

I swiped the tears off my cheeks and stood to my feet.

I began pacing across the room.

My hands were shaking as I tried to make sense of everything.

But without him, my father, nothing was actually the same.

A knock on the door caused me to halt and turn to it.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Miss Isolde."

It was the house maid.

"Your brother is asking for you. He wants to see you in his study."

"I will be there," I said.

I stood and listened to her feet retreat from my bedroom door.

Why was I being called?

I thought the ceremony was over?

I moved to the door, opened it and stepped out slowly into the hall.

I walked to the study with a heavy heart

When I arrived at the study, I knocked twice on the door and stepped into the room.

I found Leonardo sitting at his desk with a glass of champagne in his hand.

My younger brother, Martins was lounged on the blue tête-à-tête.

He was sipping champagne from a flute that was filled to the brim.

They were still in their black suits, the one they had worn for the funeral.

And I could clearly tell that Martins must have been crying for a while after.

"Isolde," Matins murmured my name.

He had a sad smile on his face that caused tears to prick the corners of my eyes.

I watched him rapidly down half of the flute in one gulp and sigh softly.

He then turned to Leonardo who was also staring fixatedly at him.

"Pass the bottle if you do not mind," he told Leonardo.

He pointed at the champagne bottle that was sitting pretty on the table.

"I need a refill."

"Martins, it is empty," Leonardo reminded him with a deep sigh.

Martins raised a questioning brow at him.

Leonardo shrugged and simply reached for the bottle which he turned upside down.

Martins eyes followed the movement and he understood quite quickly.

"Ah! I see!" He said. "I will go and get more," he added as he stood to his feet.

He staggered slightly and I knew that he must have had a lot.

Martins was never one who could cope with his emotions without alcohol.

I couldn't stop him.

We were all grieving in our own way.

If the alcohol made him feel better, then he could have it.

"I will be back," he said coming up to me and handing me the half filled flute.

I nodded and took it, watching him leave the room with a sigh.

"How long has he been like that?" I asked Leonardo, going closer.

My brother sighed softly.

"He has been drinking a lot since the funeral ceremony was over," he shrugged.

His eyes scanned me.

"And why are you still in that mourning dress? It's awful."

I ignored his cocked brows.

"Why am I here?" I asked him.

He visibly swallowed and I instantly began to grow suspicious.

“Have a drink. You will need it.”

I didn’t answer.

I simply tilted the flute of champagne and swallowed the entire liquid.

The cold liquid slid down my throat.

But, it didn’t soothe me.

And that is as because I had an inkling that Leonardo had bad news.

His eyes gave him away.

"What is it? Tell me,” I demanded in a sharp and impatient voice that betrayed the frustration that I was feeling.

My brother sighed again and it only made the tension in my chest to grow tighter.

He was scaring me.

"Leonardo!" I snapped as several possibilities ran through my head.

Where we under attack again?

Leonardo leaned back in his chair and took off his glasses.

“Isolde,” he began slowly, “we are at some sort of crossroads, you know?"

I nodded with my nails digging frightfully into my clenched palms.

"A lot is going on and I had to make a decision, a choice for you.”

"Are you sending me away?" I asked him as I began shaking in alarm.

He shook his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced at me.

“I am not sending you away Isolde," he assured me. "But..."

For some reason, the 'but' in his sentence made me feel like it was something worse than being sent away.

What could be so bad?

"I need to protect you Isolde."

I knew that he would.

Leonardo cherished me.

"But this choice, it is going to change everything,” he completed.

"What are you talking about Leonardo?" I muttered, "Just spit it out!"

“I am doing what is necessary to hold onto our power and protect this family and everything that we have left.”

I frowned, still not understanding him. “What do you mean?”

He began to obviously brace himself.

And I braced myself too because I had no idea what he was about to say.

But the way he was looking at me made me feel like I was about to hear something that he would never be able to take back.

His gaze hardened. “Isolde, you will marry Vincenzo De Luca.”

My firm grip around the champagne flute instant loosened.

I gasped, uncertain wether to breathe or to scream at the words.

I could not breathe.

I could not think.

The only thing I could hear was the sound of my heart pounding in my ears and drowning out everything else.

The champagne flute slipped from my fingers and ended on the hard floor where it shattered into smithereens.

The glass scattered across the white tiles like a thousand sharp shards of reality.