Chapter 2
Imogen
Ioften think about how I will die.
Not by the hands of my own, but by the hands of man.
I suppose it’s only natural to think about death when you are surrounded by it.
And I’ve been buried in its stench since the moment I was born.
There are the gruesome deaths that come to mind first. A slugger to the head, spraying the matters of my brain across the wall to create a ghastly painting.
The knife plunged in my torso by the hands of who I thought was an ally and not foe.
Strangulation from the hands of an abusive man.
Slow torture that would have me begging for death from the enemies of my pa.
I’ve thought of it all.
Yet all of them are the more preferable way to die than being forced to marry Sebastian O’Neil.
I refuse to believe marriage with Sebastian is my fate.
I’ll find my escape, even if that means clawing my way out six feet buried deep.
“You can’t expect me to marry him,” I tell my ma heatedly. My face flushes with my frustration. A curse of my alabaster skin.
My face will forever be an open book. My emotions never once have been able to be concealed.
Ma tells me it’s a beautiful gift; to be blessed with such vibrant expressions. I only see it as a nuisance. As my late brother said, one day these animated expressions will get you killed. Who would have ever known that he would be six feet under before me.
His eyes were brimmed with power and his heart filled with pride for the family. But he underestimated the intelligence and grit of The Donati Famiglia. Moreover, he underestimated her, Carina Donati.
The woman who became more ruthless than the notorious man she married. And to be more feared than the man known as the devil of the east coast is as impressive as it is frightening.
Pa shouldn’t have agreed for Niall to allege himself with Luca.
And if he had listened to my reasoning perhaps Niall would still be alive.
Luca was just as sleazy as his pa and Don, Savio. These were men not to be trusted. And yet pa and Niall formed the alliance in hopes of pulling the rug from under their feet and taking the throne of the underworld.
It had all begun with the Irish Mob, it was only right for them to obtain leadership once again.
I had told pa if we were to align ourselves with anyone it should have been the Russians.
The Russians had more hatred in their veins for the Italians than we did.
And Kirill, the menace of a leader to the Bratva would have loved to paint the town red.
Especially since The Donati Famiglia had allied themselves with The Triads.
Bad blood had been spilled between them ever since the suspicious death of his promised bride.
But pa had deaf ears when I tried to talk to him. And Niall had so desperately wanted to prove himself.
The criminal underworld is a man’s world.
And despite Carina shaking that very same foundation and shattering glass ceilings, in this part of town it still is.
No man in Ireland will listen to a woman. Not even my pa, the man who loves me dearly.
If our traditions weren’t archaic and downright misogynistic I would be the heir to the Irish Mob.
It’s disappointing.
The fact that pa and ma are arranging a marriage to make him the heir instead of me is not only disheartening, but also insulting.
“I had an arranged marriage with your pa and we grew to love each other, deary.” She tries to mollify my impending hell.
“Only because you and pa took the time to share your interests and work upon the marriage. You made the best of an unfair situation.”
“Sebastian is a good man, Imogen, and he will make a fine husband.” She tries again and fails.
“I shouldn’t have to settle for fine,” I stress the word, imploring with my eyes for her to understand. “You and I both know I’m the rightful heir. Sebastian isn’t needed.”
Her smile is full of sorrow. “Rightful heir or not they will never allow you to lead, deary. This is a glass ceiling we can’t break.”
My eyes narrow as my cheeks flush with anger. “Can’t or won’t?” I challenge her.
She sighs defeatedly. Putting to rest the book in her hands she leans across the center table to grasp my hands in her own. I stare down at ma’s hands. Hands that bear scars from the abuse of her own ma. I fight the urge to cry. And yet tears prick at the back of my eyes threatening to fall.
“Do you honestly believe an arranged marriage is what I want for my daughter?” Her voice is hushed but tender.
“For her to be wed and bed by a man she hardly knows and to bear a child to become future heir?” Tears blur her line of vision as she furiously blinks them away.
I’ve only seen ma cry twice in my young life.
One when we had been given the news of Niall’s death.
And two, at his burial. She wept endlessly that day.
So much so it could fill the rivers. I had worried with each wrack of her sobs she was losing another piece of herself.
And in a way she had. She no longer is a ma to a son.
That piece of her, the piece only Niall could fill is empty. And it always will be.
“I am trying for the sake of your pa to go along swimmingly with his decisions. And I hear your cries, Imogen. I see the pain this brings you. And I know you see this as a betrayal. But this life we lead isn’t fair nor is it kind.
It’s cruel and cutthroat. It’s a life I don’t wish for anyone, especially you. ”
My eyes plead with her as I all but beg, “Then convince pa to break this charade of a marriage. Convince him that Sebastian is not the man who should lead this family.”
Her face falls. “Don’t you think I have tried deary?”
“Then try harder.”
“If it is not to Sebastian then it will be to someone else. The only comfort I can find in this arranged marriage is to know with him you will be safe, Imogen. He may never grow to love you but the man will never raise his hand at you. I can’t say the same for many others.”
Anger rises within me. I can feel the flames licking my skin. “And I am to be comforted by this? To be happy my soon to be husband will not abuse me?”
Ma’s eyes plead for me to understand but I can’t help but feel jaded. “No. No, I am not expecting you to feel comforted in the fact that a man will not raise his hand at you. But this world we live in, that's what is expected.”
The harsh reality of my world is a bitter pill I refuse to swallow. This will not be my fate. I forbid it. Ma senses it. She sees the sheer determination in my eyes. It’s the Irish blood that not only makes me proud but also stubborn.
“Your marriage to Sebastian is a duty you have to fulfill to the family. One you must take responsibility for your pa not to be made a weak leader.” I feel hope deflate within me.
The darkness is crowding my line of vision.
My poor heart aching so fiercely that I clutch my chest. I cast my eyes downward so ma can’t see the tears wanting to make their appearance.
“But,” I hear her say and the light casts upon me with renewed hope, “you are a very clever and smart young wee. Always have been deary. And if you are to find yourself the night before the marriage climbing down the lattice and bypassing your pa’s men.
. . Well, I suppose you keep pushing ahead and don’t look back. ”
And while I love my pa to pieces this is why I utterly adore and cherish my ma. Her selfless heart is prepared to lose another one of her children because she knows I will never be happy.
“This isn’t goodbye ma,” I promise her in a choked whisper.
Her eyes shimmer as she smiles bittersweetly.
“But my sweet deary, Imogen. It is.”
She kisses my hands and I feel my heart burst. The tears that have been begging to fall come pouring out. Ever so gently she wipes them with the brush of her thumb before palming my face.
I see it then. I see how her eyes capture every detail of my face. Down from the constellations of freckles that I’ve always loathed but she’s always loved, to the blue of my eyes that borderline on the shade of grey just like hers. I've never found them as beautiful except when looking at her.
The tears she was desperately holding at bay managed to escape. A tear drop falls. Followed by two then three. A river of grief for the daughter who will live without her.
Seeing ma cry is worse than death itself.
“I won’t go. I won’t leave,” I find myself saying to heal her pain.
She offers me a watery smile. “You’d resent me if you stayed.” I go to open my mouth but she silences me with a leveled stare. “You would. You’re saying this now because that beautiful heart of yours doesn’t want to see me cry but I know a year from now you will look back and wish you had gone.”
“Then why do I feel like I’m making a mistake?”
Tenderly she frames my face in her hands.
She forces me to look in her eyes. “Since you were a wee girl you always cared for others more than yourself. Your heart is big. Soft. But I’m telling you this now, Imogen, you are not wrong nor making a mistake for putting your feelings first. As your ma all I want is to see you happy.
And my sweet deary girl, it would kill me everyday to see you in misery for marrying a man that your heart had no choice in the matter. ”
I throw my arms around her, enveloping her in a hug that is both filled with love and sorrow. Her arms clutch around me. And I know in my heart despite her claims she’s afraid to let me go.
“I love you, ma.”
“I love you, too.”
We cling to each other tighter. “I’m going to miss you.”
She kisses my cheek. “I’m going to miss you every second of every day. But I’ll always be with you. In your heart I’ll forever be. And I’m just one burner phone call away.”
“Will pa hurt you when I become a runaway bride?” I hate to even ask the question but I worry about what will become of ma when pa won’t have his heir. I’ve never seen him raise a hand at her in my life but I question nonetheless.
“No, sweet girl. As far as he’s concerned I had no clue of your intentions.”
“But he knows I tell you everything,” I argue.
Ma is the person I go to for everything.
I can always talk to her or tell her about something that has happened without fear or judgment.
We’ve always had a great relationship with communication.
I’m fortunate. So very fortunate to find a safe place in my ma.
It’s why she knows I lost my virginity at nineteen and not pa.
Why I took upon self defense and gun training on my own.
It was never extracurriculars at college like pa believed. Ma knew the truth.
She winks at me. “Except for this. I’ll protect you. This secret stays with us.”
“I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t say that. Every daughter deserves a loving and understanding ma. And I am blessed to have a loving and beautiful daughter.”
I smile at that. “You’re making it harder on me to flee, you know?”
She laughs lightly and jokes, “Well, I can’t make it too easy on you, can I?”
Wrapping her back in my arms I whisper with so much gratitude, “Thank you.”
She kisses my temporal before clutching me tighter. “You never have to thank me.”
I hold on to ma as long as I can because I know this may be the final time before I make my escape.