Chapter Two #2
I didn’t know anything about running a criminal enterprise, but I knew a lot about running a business.
If the CEO lost the respect of his employees and the confidence of his shareholders, they were at risk of getting axed.
Luka was basically the CEO of his family, and if he didn’t have their support?
I shuddered to think where that might land my sister.
Maybe she was safer here, even if it risked Luka’s ire.
“They should have arranged the marriage between Skender and Rina.”
“It probably couldn’t have been any worse than this,” I agreed. “At least those two are closer in age.”
“He’s dating someone.” She eyed me in her mirror. “Did you know?”
I nodded. “I haven’t met her yet.”
“I’m surprised. You and Skender are so close I figured he would have asked your advice.”
“He’s a grown man, Dafina. He doesn’t need my advice or blessing on a relationship.”
She made a little sound of annoyance. “Is she Italian?”
“Yes. He met her at the university. In the library,” I added, thinking that it was a romantic detail.
“She’s probably a Raffaelli honeypot to keep him under control,” she remarked unkindly.
“Dafina!”
“What? He’s been their hostage for, like, nine years. They didn’t manage to brainwash him completely so I’m sure they’re looking for ways to keep him in line until this whole thing is over.”
Poor Skender. When our grandfather’s small mafia fiefdom failed to earn enough money to pay the agreed installments, the Raffaellis had come for my brother.
They’d taken him away, held him hostage in lavish old palace under constant guard.
I spoke to him every day and tried to visit as often as possible, but it wasn’t the same as being together.
And Dafina was wrong. This thing between our families would never actually be over.
Not even after Dafina and Luka married to satisfy the peace treaty by uniting our families.
Not after the Raffaelli family, the custodian of the funds and property held as collateral, returned what was owed to all of us.
Not after the Beciraj family resumed control of the lucrative narcotics trade that had been taken from them in lieu of giving over Rina as a hostage.
Not after Dafina and Luka had a baby to finally and completely tie us together.
There would just be something new, something ugly and dramatic.
Probably from the Raffaellis who were absolutely not going to enjoy the new power dynamic.
Maybe from one of the other mafia families in Northern Albania where our grandfather still had supporters.
Maybe even from farther away, the Russians or the Serbs or the Turks.
Our family was steeped in a sordid, seedy and very dangerous business. So, no, it would never, ever be over.
“You would have been a better choice for Luka,” Dafina commented suddenly.
“I doubt that very much.” Luka was a wealthy, powerful and handsome man. Gorgeous, graceful Dafina was the ideal match.
"It wouldn’t be an even trade obviously.” She rose from her vanity and tucked something into her purse. “We’re talking trading a Lambo for a Honda. I’m sexy, sleek and fast. You’re—.”
“Reliable?” I cut in, not wanting to hear whatever word was on the tip of her forked tongue.
“Sure. Reliable.” She clearly had an uglier thought in mind. “The point I’m trying to make is that you are wife material.”
“Hardly.” Women like me weren’t wife material. With my secrets? With my mistakes? No one wanted me, not after the things I’d done.
My first experience with love had been a traumatic nightmare that wasn’t actually love at all.
It was coercion and grooming, and no matter how many therapy sessions I attended, no matter how much I had changed and grown as a person, I feared that I would never escape that shame.
I might look like I had it all together but inside?
I was a broken mess of a girl who desperately wanted to be loved.
“I always wanted to get married,” Dafina said. “But on my own terms. Not like this.”
“I’m sorry, Dafina. I really am.”
“But not sorry enough to do anything about it,” she muttered. “None of you are. You’re all just counting down the hours and minutes until this is over and you’re all free from this shadow that’s been hanging over us for years.”
My stomach soured with guilt. Everything she said was true.
“I’m late for my spa appointment.” She grabbed her phone. “You’re changing before dinner, right?”
“Yes.”
“Into something that doesn’t look like a bedsheet?”
“Yes, a black dress.”
“I suppose that will do.” She led me out of her bedroom and into the hallway. “I hope you weren’t planning to use my room to get ready.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Mariana set up the couch in Brett’s old office with pillows and blankets for you. We’d offer the guest room, but the old man needs it.”
“I’m staying at a hotel.”
Dafina scoffed. “Of course, you are.”
“I thought it would be best.”
“And no plus one?”
“No.”
“Really? Still not dating?”
“I date.”
“Men that Brett picks out for you?” she guessed meanly.
“Sometimes,” I admitted, thinking of the string of nice, successful and utterly boring men my stepdad had set me up with over the last couple of years.
“Maybe you should look for your next man in a school,” she suggested cruelly. “You had really good luck the last time you dated a teacher.”
Her vicious remark cut me deeper than any scalpel. “Fuck you, Dafina.”
“Sorry, but I’m not interested in fat girls with daddy issues.”
I glared at her. “And here I was feeling sorry for you!”
She sneered. “I don’t want your pity.”
“Good because you can’t have it.”
“Like I care?” She stormed toward the stairs. “Fat slut.”
“Skinny bitch,” I petulantly snapped back. “I hope the rest of your life is as miserable as you are.”
Dafina froze on the stairs and whirled back to glare at me. “Careful, Elona. I’m about to be the wife of a powerful man. One snap of my fingers, and I’ll make sure you know what real misery is.”
My heart pounded in my chest as I watched her leave. I stood there, trying to catch my breath as Dafina encountered our mother downstairs and began to fight with her. Their catty words echoed through the house, and my blood pressure skyrocketed.
“What did you do to upset your sister?” My mother appeared at the bottom of the stairs as I descended. She glared up at me, her face a mask of fury. “She was practically in tears!”
“What did I do to upset her?” I walked down to meet her, dreading each step as I drew closer and closer.
“Don’t make me regret inviting you, Elona,” Mom warned, jabbing her finger in my face. “I didn’t want you here, but your grandfather insisted.”
“I will happily take my big ass home right now if that’s what you want.”
“What I want doesn’t matter! It hasn’t mattered since the day I was forced to marry your worthless father!”
“He wasn’t worthless!” I didn’t know why I felt the sudden need to defend a man I barely remembered.
“You don’t know a thing about your father. He was a coward just like my brother.” She stepped so close I could smell the cheap vodka on her breath. Her eyes were a bit glassy.
Since when did she day drink like this?
“He died and left me to clean up his mess.” She poked my shoulder so hard I winced. “This wedding will happen without any drama from you or your sister. I will get my son back or so help me God, Elona, I will bury you and your sister right next to your father.”
Her threat rattled me to the core. I was suddenly a small child again, frozen as my mother berated and scolded and smacked me around for some ridiculous infraction. All I could do was stare and listen.
“Do you really want to be the reason Skender is killed?”
My heart stuttered in my chest at the mention of our brother who existed under constant threat of death to secure our family’s obedience. One wrong move, and they would slit his throat. “No, of course not.”
“Then you better make a decision, Elona.” Mom poked me again. “Are you going to be selfish and run off again? Or are you going to do the right thing and stand with your family to save your brother?”