The Forbidden Husband (The Forbidden #1)

Chapter One

Aria Bianchi

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The steady thrum of my rapidly-beating heart filled my ears before it happened.

Knowing what was coming should have made it easier, but it didn’t.

I stared down the corridor leading to the garage where my father often “worked.” My feet moved of their own accord, not stopping their steady pace even as my brain begged them to halt, turn around, or go anywhere but the garage.

I had lived this reality dozens of times through my dreams, and each time was worse than the last.

I had been livid at the time. I had worked myself up all day over missing the bar exam I had studied relentlessly for. Though my mind kept and compartmentalized everything I had ever learned, I still had to be sure. I had to pass, and then I would have all the tools to provide for myself and my sisters.

I could get us all out.

But Dad didn’t let me sit for the bar.

He had forbidden it, and he had waited until I was walking out the door to break the news to me.

It had led me to this moment, and if I could turn back now, I would.

I would go back if I could unsee everything and remain oblivious to my father’s darkest secret.

Please, God. It’s me again. Let me go back and redo this. Let me redo this whole damn night.

The pleas did nothing as my feet continued marching forward at a relentless, pissed-off pace. I felt the same rage and dedication as I had that night, but now it was overpowered by the knowing regret and all-consuming fear.

I begged my dream self, who approached the garage, all too certain of what she would say, to wait until tomorrow morning to talk to him.

She would not listen.

She never did.

It wasn’t necessarily a dream… more like a vivid memory that presented itself while I slept.

A memory of the night everything changed.

As I neared, I heard the distinct sound of a woman’s voice. Now, I could hear the fear and pleading behind her tone, and I could make out the barely detectable scream muffled by my father’s rough palm. At the moment, I hadn’t noticed.

I placed my palm on the cool metal of the garage door handle and swung the door open roughly, ensuring it announced my presence to the room. That was my intention, at least. I foolishly wanted him to know I was pissed.

I shrank back and tried disassociating from what I knew I would see.

It was an out-of-body experience as I took in a familiar woman’s body sprawled across the garage floor. The partial nudity of her body barely registered as I noticed the red pool of liquid spilling from her. The paleness that could only mean death.

She was the new wife to one of my father’s capos. Two years younger than me.

She had been at a family dinner a couple of weeks ago to congratulate her and her new husband. I remembered her talking about her job as a nail technician, and she had loved showing off her nails to the table and offering her services.

My sister had gone two days later and came home with a stunning set of acrylics.

My eyes drifted to the woman’s crooked fingers, half the nails missing. One of them sat beside her limp body on the floor.

It was as if I was witnessing a mass catastrophe. I wanted to look away so badly. I pleaded with my past self to leave before my father looked my way, but I couldn’t even blink.

New dimensions to the grotesque scene unfolded.

My father tugged up his pants as he hovered over her body.

The way she’d been killed—a knife to the base of her skull—reminded me of the other wives of capos who the Rissi family had raped and killed in the past months for the petty vendetta between our families.

If it was the Rissis doing this, then why was my father standing over her…

When his crazed eyes peered over his shoulder and met mine, the paralyzing fear finally became enough to peel me from my out-of-body experience. I clawed my way from sleep as the past version of myself turned and ran.

Everything around me faded into nothing as I became aware of my body. A warm duvet surrounded my body. Sweat dripped from my forehead, and my jaw ached from the tight way my teeth clenched together.

With each second, I found myself drifting further from the memory of that night.

I forced myself to breathe in and out, counting my inhales and exhales until my heart calmed. I noticed the buzzing of my phone on my bedside table and grabbed it immediately, happy for any distraction from my shitshow of a life.

I pressed the phone to my ear without looking at the screen.

“Why didn’t you answer the first time?”

My father’s harsh tone made my heart pick up speed again. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came.

“Useless,” he mumbled under his breath. “Come to my office. Now.”

The call ended before I could muster the courage to say even a word.

It was always like that with him. I had been willing to stand up for years. That night, my courage had come to a head, and I had finally tried to get away, but that courage diminished when he made it clear what would happen if I ever stepped out of line again.

He had his thumb on two people I wasn’t willing to sacrifice, and he knew it.

I stood from bed and stretched my back, finding that it hadn’t just been my jaw I had clenched. My entire body felt sore from my stiffened muscles, but I worked through it as I dressed in a floral sundress and tied my hair into a knot at the base of my neck.

It wasn’t up to his strict wardrobe standards, but it would have to do for now.

By the time I reached his office, I had managed to control the vicious tremors that always came alongside the dream. As I pushed through the door, I froze.

This couldn’t be happening right now.

While I had sat in the back of the funeral and watched my father deliver a speech about the “tragedy of losing loved ones to a pointless feud,” the man who now stood before my father had been sobbing in the front row.

He was the husband of the woman my father had killed, and now he looked angry and ready for vengeance. He shook my father’s hand as if they were friends.

Only I knew the truth.

I knew that the Rissis weren’t responsible for killing any of the Bianchi wives as my father had claimed.

“It’s great to hear that something will finally be done about this. There’s nobody else I’d rather be following than you, boss,” the man said.

My father nodded and gave me a stern look. “I promised it would be handled, didn’t I?” My father met my eyes from across the room, and his narrowed slightly. “Go and inform the others that we’re finally on the track to justice.”

I waited for the man to leave the room, yearning to open my mouth and be honest for once. I could so easily tell him the truth. I could end this animosity between our family and the Rissis.

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t risk it.

When the door sealed me in the room with my father, I wiped my palms on my dress to hide the apparent anxiety that wracked me.

“I’m sure you heard. There are… developments in our situation with the Rissis,” he said as he rounded his desk and dropped into his chair with a groan.

I wondered if all the lying and deceiving wore on his body the same way it wore on mine.

“Good,” I said softly.

“It’s very good. Are you going to ask me how we are going to solve our little issue?”

I wasn’t planning on it.

“How?”

“Come and sit down,” he demanded, gesturing to the seat across from his desk.

I didn’t plan on doing that either.

But just as he asked, I approached the desk and slid into one of his leather seats. I didn’t like where this was going. He never asked that I sit down. He usually gave me passing orders and then demanded I stay out of sight.

My skin crawled as his gaze lingered on me, dropping to my dress and wrinkling his nose in distaste, just as I had expected.

“Because of my sister’s tragic loss, we need to tie our families together once again. The Rissi mob family is continuing to be a pain in my ass, and a marriage is the only response.”

I knew where this was going, and it sickened me.

“You want me to marry a Rissi?” I asked. “What about your consigliere? He’s a Rissi. It’s a good-faith gesture that he’s loyal to you.”

“Vito isn’t a Rissi anymore. He’s as much a Bianchi as you and I. He always favored my sister, and his loyalties show it.”

How could he talk about Lia so favorably now that she was dead? He had spent his entire life hating his sister. She had made more sacrifices than my father ever would by marrying the brother of the Rissi boss. Mauro Rissi and Lia had defied all odds. They became more than an arranged marriage. It was unusual in this line of work, but they had done it.

“Anyways, I have to select one of my daughters to marry him to show our good faith, and I selected you , Aria. I expect you’ll be on your best behavior in accepting this marriage proposal. I would hate to choose one of your sisters for the task.”

There it was.

There was only one reason he didn’t kill me when I saw how he was betraying our people, and it was the same reason he chose me for this marriage.

I would do anything to keep my sisters safe; they would pay for it if I stepped one toe out of line. Not me. Never me.

Since that night all those months ago, he hadn’t raised a finger to me.

But when I spoke too loudly or didn’t make myself scarce, Noemi, Livia, and Evelina paid for it.

I wouldn’t let my younger siblings be a part of this.

As long as I did my duty, they would be safe.

As long as I never tried to run away from our home like I did that night, they would all stay alive.

I did what I had to do. “Okay.”

“That’s not all.”

My fists balled in my lap, and his gaze dropped to the sudden gesture. I forced them to flatten across my knee as I took a deep breath. Demure. Obedient. A good daughter. I had to be all of those things and more.

But deep inside, I wished I dared to be like Noemi—to be reckless and disobedient and run off with a Russian mob boss our father hated more than anyone. Maybe I wanted to be carefree like Livia. Or quirky and oblivious like Evelina.

Instead, I was filled with rage that could never be quelled or dulled. A rage that had to be hidden so deep that it burned through my soul.

It seemed to be my curse as the eldest daughter.

“Okay,” I replied again through a deep breath.

“Once you marry him, your job will gather intel and deliver it back to me. I expect reports of their numbers, assets, and locations. I want every piece of information you can find. Because once I have it, I will take my rightful position as capo dei capi, and Giovanni Rissi will be dead. ”

In his eyes, only one person could be running the Italian mafia. The split territories weren’t enough for him, and they never had been.

None of it mattered. Not as long as my sisters were safe.

“Who will I marry?”

“Enzo Rissi.”

I didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t that.

The fear that I had managed to suppress came barreling to the surface as my breathing sped up, and my heart rate pounded through my body once again.

There weren’t many Rissis in the immediate family line, so I had assumed I would be married to someone right outside the family. Maybe a loyal soldier. A close family friend.

I never, in my wildest dreams, would have imagined being married to a man who had more notorious kills than I had contacts in my phone. He had skinned a man alive for looking at him wrong.

Skinned him alive.

And my father’s smirk told me he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Either you or Livia…”

“Me,” I said immediately. “I’ll do it.”

For my sisters, I would do anything.