3. Chiara
3
CHIARA
I take a deep breath, steadying myself as I stand outside my father’s office. The weight of what’s to come settles heavily on my shoulders. I’ve seen this scene play out before—first with Sofia, then Bianca. Now it’s my turn, and the dread building inside me is almost overwhelming.
As I reach for the doorknob, my mind drifts to Dante. Sweet, loyal Dante, who’s been by my side for as long as I can remember. The man who stole my heart with his gentle smile and unwavering devotion.
My first kiss. My first… everything.
The memory of his touch, his lips on mine, sends a shiver down my spine. How can I possibly marry a stranger when I already have the perfect man? When I’ve already given Dante every part of me?
But I know the harsh realities of our world. Papa would never approve of my relationship with the son of his underboss. In his eyes, Dante is just a soldier, not worthy of a Marino daughter. Because while Victorio Tenebre is a loyal man and a family friend, their family is not of the caliber Papa would expect me to marry into.
The unfairness of it all makes my chest ache. Dante is more than worthy. He’s everything I could ever want in a partner—brave, kind, and fiercely loyal. He understands me in a way no one else does, sees me for who I truly am beyond my family name.
But none of that matters now.
I step into my father’s office, my heart racing. To my surprise, he rises from his throne-like chair, a warm smile on his face.
“Chiara, my darling,” he says, opening his arms.
I rush into his embrace, momentarily forgetting my anxiety. He feels thinner, but stronger than he has in weeks. As I pull back, I study his face. His black hair is thinner, but there’s color in his cheeks and a sparkle in his blue eyes that I haven’t seen in too long.
“You look well, Papa,” I say, unable to hide the relief in my voice.
He chuckles, guiding me to a chair. “I’m feeling much better today. Cancer will not keep me down for long. But enough about me. I have wonderful news for you, cara mia .”
My stomach tightens, and I grip the arms of the chair. This is it. The moment I’ve been dreading.
“Oh?” I manage, trying to keep my voice steady.
My father leans forward, his excitement palpable. “After what happened with Bianca—which thank God, worked out in the end…” There’s an ugly look on his face, and I wince. Even though Bianca and Rork are madly in love and have sweet baby Cara, Papa still doesn’t completely like Rork.
Something about Rork beating Papa at his own game really got under Papa’s skin.
Papa pauses and his face smooths out. “After what happened with Bianca,” he continues, “I knew I had to be more proactive about finding you a suitable husband. Unfortunately, my illness set us back nearly a year, and I’m sorry about that, Chiara. I so desperately want to make sure you girls are settled before I’m gone, and I’ve left you waiting for a year. Please forgive me.”
My heart seizes at the pain in Papa’s voice, and I want to reach out and grab his hand. “Papa, you have nothing to apologize for. Your health was more important than finding us husbands.”
Papa holds up a hand. “No, Tesoro . Finding a husband is the most important thing. For you. For our family. But I think I’ve found the perfect match for you.”
My mind races. How can I tell him that I’ve already found my perfect match? That Dante is everything I want and need? But as I look into my father’s eyes, so full of love and pride, I feel my resolve wavering.
“Who…” I swallow hard, trying to find my voice. “Who is he?”
“I’ve made arrangements with Pakhan Avilov. His son, Pyotr, will be your husband.”
His words hit me like a bucket of ice water, and I feel the blood drain from my face. “What? Papa, no?—”
He holds up a hand, silencing me. “It’s a good match, Chiara. The Avilovs are one of the most powerful families around, and this alliance will strengthen our position significantly.”
My mind races, searching for a way out. “But Papa, I don’t even know him. What about marrying for love?”
Papa’s expression softens slightly, but his voice remains firm. “Love, Chiara? You’re too young to know the difference between love and infatuation. There’s too much at stake here for such childish notions.”
“It’s not childish!” I protest, my voice rising. “I know what I feel, and I?—”
“Enough,” he cuts me off, his tone brooking no argument. “Mykola and Pyotr will be arriving at the estate in a few days. You’ll have time to get to know Pyotr while we make the wedding arrangements.”
Tears well up in my eyes. “Papa, please. I can’t marry a stranger. I won’t .”
He leans forward, his gaze intense. “You can, and you will. This is not up for discussion, Chiara. It’s your duty to your family.”
“But what about my happiness?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Papa sighs, a flicker of sympathy crossing his face. “Happiness comes in many forms, cara . You’ll learn to be happy with Pyotr. It’s for the best. Your sisters found happiness with their husbands.”
They got lucky , I want to scream. Sofia was already in love with Dominico, and somehow, Bianca ended up finding her perfect match with the scarred Irish Mob boss. But Papa can’t take credit for Bianca’s marriage since Rork strong-armed his way into the tournament held in Bianca’s honor and forced Papa to allow him to marry Bianca.
Instead, I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. “Papa, can I ask you something… hypothetical?”
He raises an eyebrow but nods, leaning back in his chair as he steeples his fingers together. “Of course.”
“What if… what if the person I love is someone you already know? Someone like… Dante, for example. Just as an example, of course.”
My father’s expression hardens immediately. “Absolutely not, Chiara. Dante is a fine young man from a loyal family, but he’s not of our station.”
“But Papa?—”
He holds up a hand, silencing me. “No Chiara. Listen to me. If you were to marry someone like Dante, you’d be serving as his social ladder. Is that what you want? To be used for your family name and connections?”
I bite my lip, holding back the truth about my feelings for Dante. A wave of betrayal washes over me. How could my father do this? How could he not even consider what I may want? The bond I’ve always shared with my father suddenly feels strained, almost broken. How could he dismiss my feelings so easily?
I try another avenue. “Papa, I don’t understand. Why are you trying to marry Mia and me off so quickly? We have two powerful brothers-in-law now. The Sicuras and the O’Malleys… no one would dare harm us. Can’t we wait?”
But it seems that my father has had enough. He’s used to his daughters—save Bianca—obeying him without a second thought. He’s not used to his daughters questioning him— especially me.
Papa’s face darkens, his eyes flashing with sudden anger. “Enough!” he roars, slamming his fist on the desk.
I flinch, startled by his outburst. He’s never raised his voice to me like this before. Never .
“You think you understand the complexities of our world?” he continues, his voice rising as he slips into his Mob Boss persona. “You think a few alliances are enough to keep you safe? To keep our family secure?”
I shrink back in my chair, my words dying in my throat as I stare wide-eyed at my angry father. I’m terrified of him in this moment.
“This isn’t just about your safety, Chiara! It’s about our family’s future, our legacy!” He leans forward, his gaze intense and frightening. “You will marry Pyotr Avilov, and that’s final . I won’t hear another word about it!”
I sit there, frozen in shock and fear. My father has never been this angry before at us. It’s like looking at someone I don’t even know.
“Do you understand me?” he demands, his voice dropping to a dangerous low, his blue eyes like ice chips. No wonder my father is the most feared Mafia Don around.
I nod quickly, unable to find my voice. Tears sting my eyes as I whisper, “Yes, Papa.”
He leans back in his chair, some of the fury leaving his face, replaced by a weariness that makes him look older than his years. “Good. Now go. The Avilovs will be here in a few days, and I expect you to greet them with a smile. And you will come to terms with this arrangement by then.”
I stand on shaky legs, hurrying out of his office without another word. As I close the door behind me, I lean against it, my heart pounding. The father I thought I knew, the one who always listened to me, seems to have vanished.
In his place is a man I barely recognize, one who frightens me with his intensity and his unwillingness to hear my pleas.
My vision blurs as tears threaten to spill over. My heart pounds in my chest, and I can barely breathe. The anger in his eyes, the fury in his voice—it’s all too much.
I run down the hallway, not caring who might see me—not caring that there are guards at every entrance who watch me as I run. My feet carry me swiftly, desperate to put as much distance between myself and that room as possible. The walls of the house that has always been my home suddenly feel oppressive, closing in around me.
As I round a corner, a sob escapes my throat. I clap a hand over my mouth, trying to stifle the sound, but it’s too late. The dam breaks, and tears stream down my face.
Dante. I need to see Dante. He’s the only one who can make me feel better. I need to talk to him. I pivot and hurry toward the front door, nearly missing a maid as she cleans one of the gleaming marble tables in the foyer
“Miss Chiara!” she cries out, but I pay her no mind, bursting through the doors and looking around wildly before taking off in the direction of the compound where Dante lives.
My body shakes with silent sobs as I run. How could Papa do this to me? How could he dismiss my feelings so easily, so cruelly? The father I thought I knew seems to have vanished, replaced by a cold, unyielding stranger.
Was this Papa’s plan all along? To marry all of us girls off as fast as possible? Did his cancer diagnosis just hasten his plans?
My mind races, spinning in multiple directions. What am I going to do? How can I possibly marry Pyotr when my heart belongs to Dante? But how can I defy my father?
I’ve never felt so lost, so trapped. The weight of expectations, duty, and fear press down on me, threatening to crush my spirit entirely.
Life will never be the same again. And I have no idea how to face the future that’s barreling toward me, unstoppable and unwanted.