Chapter 24 #2
“And what do you get out of this arrangement? This can’t just be a money thing. Sell a few houses, get Sophie under control again, and you’ll be back in the black in no time. What makes you desperate enough that you’d offer your own daughter?”
My father’s eyes gleamed. “I want access.”
Adrien said nothing.
“I have no doubt you’ve done your homework on me, Adrien.
You know where I come from. What I left behind.
I have mafia roots too, and I’d like to reconnect with them,” my father continued.
“That history may have faded over the generations, but that wasn’t through my choice.
I’d like to rectify the mistakes of my own father, and make the Carbone name what it once was.
Like you, I’ve spent years building influence legally. Respectably. Now I want more.”
He leaned forward slightly.
“I want back in.”
Adrien’s expression remained unreadable. “Why?”
“Why not?” My dad almost snapped. “Once upon a time, the Falcones and the Carbones were neck and neck. Each as dangerous as the other. Each as ruthless. Each as cutthroat. And now the Falcones are the most notorious family in Europe, and the Carbones are what… property developers and salesmen?” His face grew angrier, rage flashing in his eyes.
“It’s unacceptable. I want back in, Adrien.
And what better way to prove I’m serious than offering my daughter as collateral? ”
The words punched straight through my chest, and Silas’s breathing shifted behind me.
“And what about the Falcones?”
“What about them?” my father scoffed. “One of their members snuck into my house and murdered my brother in cold blood. Once upon a time, that would have been a declaration of war. And yet I’ve had to accept it because of what my family has become.”
“It wasn’t quite in cold blood, was it?” Adrien smirked, crossing one of his legs over the other, his ankle resting on his knee, appearing relaxed and at ease.
“Your brother owed a significant debt to Rafael. Didn’t he put in a request for his wife to be murdered?
Nothing can be proved, of course, but last I heard, Silas killed her and the debt was never paid. ”
I tried not to react to that.
Silas had murdered my aunt. On my uncle’s instruction.
He could have hidden this from me. He could have cut that part out. But he was showing me the entire footage, no matter how bad it made him look, and I owed it to myself to see it through until the end.
“Neither here nor there,” my dad waved him away. “The point is, none of this would have been acceptable back in the day.”
“I suppose…” Adrien said. “And what about your agreements with Rafael?”
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. We work now, we get things moving in the background, and it’ll be too late for them to stop it by the time they’ve figured it out.”
Adrien stayed quiet, and my dad leaned forward, spurring him on.
“Think about it. What do you have to lose here? You take over my business, attaching a multi-million pound empire to your name. You get safer ways to transport your goods. You get new men working for you. And, on top of it all, you get a beautiful wife to do what you want with.”
“Fuck it,” Adrien sighed. “Things have grown boring around here. Let’s ruffle some feathers over at Falcone Estate. What are your terms?”
“Simple,” my father replied immediately. “You introduce me to the right people. Weapons. Drugs. Distribution routes. Give me an opening and I’ll make myself useful. Give me the opportunity to make my family name what it once was, and I’ll prove to you I’m a worthwhile investment.”
“And Isabelle?”
My father didn’t even hesitate.
“Make it happen and she’s yours.”
Silas clicked off the video the second my father finished speaking. Before I could even process everything I had just heard, another file opened on the screen.
This one looked much more official. Legal documents filled the monitor, complete with company logos, signatures, paragraphs of terms and conditions, and enough formal wording to make my head ache.
At first glance, it looked like any standard corporate contract. And then I started reading.
My stomach tightened almost immediately as my eyes caught the names at the top of the page.
Adrien Vescari
Vittorio Carbone
Marriage Union Agreement
I stared at the words for a second, hoping I had misunderstood what I was looking at. But the longer I read, the worse it became.
Silas remained standing behind me, his chest close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him through the thin material of my clothes. His gloved hand still rested over mine on the mouse, guiding me slowly through the document whilst his breathing remained steady behind me.
Unlike mine.
Mine had started shaking. Almost hyperventilating.
The contract itself barely referred to me as a person.
Everything was written like a business merger.
There were sections about financial integration, inheritance rights, public appearances, brand alignment, asset transfers, and future expansion opportunities between the Vescari and Carbone families.
I felt sick.
There were paragraphs discussing future heirs as though they were expected business investments rather than children. Timelines. Expectations. Consequences if those expectations were not met.
One section near the middle made my chest tighten painfully.
Failure to produce heir within the agreed timeframe may result in a renegotiation of financial distribution and continuation terms.
I swallowed thickly and kept reading anyway, unable to stop myself now that the truth was unfolding in front of me.
The deeper into the contract I got, the more disturbing the language became.
There were sections covering my public behaviour. Expectations surrounding obedience and presentation. Clauses discussing preserving the Vescari reputation and avoiding public embarrassment.
And then I reached the part that made my entire body go cold.
Corrective measures permitted where necessary for behavioural adjustment, including physical discipline, isolation, deprivation of privileges, and approved bodily harm.
For a second, I genuinely thought I might throw up.
My fingers tightened involuntarily around the mouse beneath Silas’s hand, and immediately his grip tightened too, grounding me before I could spiral completely.
I barely even noticed myself leaning backwards slightly until his arm shifted, moving around my waist to steady me.
My eyes remained locked on the screen.
I couldn’t look away.
Sexual preparation and training of spouse may be delegated at the discretion of the husband prior to official union should it be deemed beneficial for long-term compliance and marital satisfaction.
A horrified sound escaped me before I could stop it.
Not because Adrien wanted those things. I wasn’t na?ve enough to expect a marriage without sex. What bothered me was that he was treating me like a sex slave. Something he could use and abuse at whim. And my father had agreed to these terms.
He’d signed them.
Approved them.
Maybe even thought them funny.
I scrolled further down the document until I reached the final page, and the breath caught painfully in my throat.
Both signatures were already there.
Adrien Vescari.
Vittorio Carbone.
Signed months ago.
Months!
Before I had even known this arrangement was happening. Before anyone had asked me what I wanted. Before my engagement party had even been announced publicly.
Right around the time the feeling of being watched had ramped up, making me feel smothered and suffocated.
Had Silas been watching me? Had it been Adrien keeping tabs on me?
Or a mix of both?
And why hadn’t Luca spotted any of this? Why hadn’t he warned me that my life was being decided for me?
The room suddenly felt far too small.
I stared blankly at the signatures whilst my entire understanding of my life rearranged itself in the most horrific way possible.
And through it all, Silas remained behind me, silent and solid and terrifyingly steady. His arm stayed around my waist, his hand still loosely covering mine against the mouse, letting me absorb the truth in my own time instead of forcing me forward before I was ready.
I hated that I noticed the difference.
Hated it even more when I found myself leaning back into him anyway.
For a long time, neither of us moved. My thoughts felt tangled together so tightly that I couldn’t separate one from another anymore. Adrien’s voice echoed through my head alongside my father’s. Corrective measures. Approved bodily harm. Collateral.
I felt sick. No, it was more than sick. I felt hurt and betrayed. I felt dirty. Unwanted. I felt so fucking unimportant.