Tropes & Nopes #1: Arranged

Sophie’s POV

Sophie’s POV

My father, Don Emiliano Sanchez, was the head of a small clan within the mafia world.

Though his clan was small, it was respected for its brutality.

I was his second daughter, Sophie, after his golden child, Serena.

Serena was the prettier one and because of that, she got away with most things.

Including when we were younger, she would beat me up, leaving me with a sprained arm, bruises on my body, a busted lip, and even a black eye once.

Father simply said, “She’s just teaching you to be tough for what comes later in the world. ”

My father had beaten me a few times when I was younger as well, but that surprisingly stopped when I began to hit puberty.

Funny, because that didn’t stop him from occasionally putting hands on my mother, after she would question his affinity for mistresses, all much younger than Mama.

I loved Mama, but I also grew to hate and resent her as much as I began to hate and resent Serena.

My only blessing was being the younger, unworthy daughter, who could go about her business without much care.

It was because of that I was able to get a Bachelor’s degree in communications.

What my father didn’t know was I had a really good social media following.

I was known for telling stories. I had it under a pseudonym so my father wouldn’t find out.

My father was brutal, as were his clan men, but they weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed.

If I had been in another clan, I would have been discovered by now.

It was actually because of my social media persona, as well as being practically the invisible daughter, that I was able to find out all kinds of information pertaining to the mafia world, under the table.

I had become friends with a man who was infamous for his work in the cyber world, and I was positive he had connections within the mafia world as well due to the things he would say.

I think he suspected I was too, but he never threatened or intimidated me.

My father once told me, “I don’t know why you waste time on school. You will just be a wife some day and that won’t help you.”

Asshole! I did not like my father. He had made it clear on more than one occasion, that if I didn’t “get in line,” he’d make sure I’d regret it.

Truth be told, I regretted being born into such a shitty family.

Mama gave love, but it was an ugly kind of love.

I wasn’t sure Papa or Serena were even capable of love, in any fashion.

It was all about greed and power. I think that’s why Serena slept around a lot with many of the men within the mafia world.

If Papa ever found out how many, and which ones, he'd either banish her ass or kill her, she had become that disgraceful.

I kept to myself as much as possible. I was still trying to figure out how to get out of this mess of a life I was in, hoping none of the men in my father’s world would ever want me.

They would clamor after Serena, but of course.

She was model beautiful. She was as beautiful on the outside as she was ugly on the inside.

She took after Papa more with her soft blue eyes, dark brown hair that fell just past her shoulders in waves, with a skinny frame and long perfect legs.

Me, on the other hand, was referred to as “fat and ugly” by both Papa and Serena often.

I was shorter than Serena’s 5’7” frame by three inches, a curvier body, big boobs, hair so dark it looked black, straight to the middle of my back, with dark brown eyes.

Papa would say I took after Mama in almost a distasteful tone. Ah, mi familia.

There were 5 larger clans across the world with about ten smaller ones, like my fathers. There was always competition to get an alliance with a bigger clan, for obvious reasons.

I was on my way to my father’s study, feeling my gut clench, knowing it had to be something bad or I didn’t want any part of because he never called me to his study when he had “guests.” I was 22 years old, so a “proposal” could come at any time.

I was honestly surprised Serena hadn’t been married off yet, but possibly father was waiting for the “big fish” Maximo Ruiz to come acallin’ for her.

What Papa didn’t yet know was Maximo was in negotiations with The Dominguez clan’s daughter Aria.

That match was going to light the world on fire. And most likely not in a good way.

I knocked softly on the door, straightening my posture, removing any form of expression from my facial features. “Do not show your enemies your emotions, la mia bambina, or you will lose.” I hated his endearment for me. He said it in a derogatory way.

A loud booming, “Enter!” came from the other side of the door.

I entered, keeping my expression calm and blank, as I approached my father’s desk.

I did not look around as this would be considered disrespectful.

Well, at least for me. If Serena came in, she could not only admire the men in the room, she would openly flirt with them and Papa would smile at her like she was some sort of angel.

If he only knew. He called her mi preziosa.

Once I reached my father’s desk, I bowed my head ever so slightly, and greeted him in a flat tone. “Papa. You called for me?”

I saw a flicker in his eyes, as he narrowed his eyes a bit before softening into one of his infamous fake smiles.

“Ah, la mia bambina. Yes, yes. I have news for you. Come. Join us. Dominic, this is my youngest, Sophie. Sophie, Dominic Gutierrez.”

I turned towards a man sitting off to the side in a chair, another man standing beside him.

Dom Gutierrez. I knew of him. I had to. Serena used to brag that she would one day “bag the best catch in the mafia.” Which I thought was funny because I had always thought she reached for higher standards, like Maximo Ruiz.

Maximo was the number one crime lord of all.

Dom was no slouch, but he was considered on the rise now, and may even be close to second.

Looking at him now though, he was absolutely breathtaking.

So, of course, that’s why Serena had her sights set on him.

Dominic Gutierrez was a little too clean looking for a mafia boss.

He was 6’1” with scruffy stubble on his jawline, but that did not take away from the man’s beauty.

Or his dangerous appeal. Dominic had a small scar just under his jawline, and I could just barely make out his deep set dark brown eyes.

They looked almost as dark as mine, but I could be wrong from this distance.

He was toned enough to catch your eye, but not too much to be overkill.

The man looked gorgeous in a pair of black slacks, buttoned down black shirt, and dress shoes.

One leg was crossed over the other. His hair was dark brown that was brushed back.

He looked at me, unimpressed. Nothing new there. I gave him a slight nod, keeping my blank expression in place. Then turned back to my father.

My father’s smile had grown tight. “Dominic would like an arrangement of marriage with you.” I stiffened. He said it like I should be utterly thrilled with the offer. I was not. Not in the least.

I heard a snort behind me. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Me either buddy.

Keeping my face blank, voice calm, and almost robotic, “But Papa. It would be a wiser connection between Mr. Gutierrez and Serena. After all, Serena is the il tesoro.”

My father’s face tightened. “Sophie,” my name grounded out of him, “you should remember that Serena is likely to be arranged to Maximo Ruiz.” His eyes hardened on me. Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

I barely heard Dominic mutter, “That won’t happen.”

I could see my father’s face harden more.

I had a choice here. Accept a marriage I was not wanted in and he clearly wanted my whore of a sister, or death.

Somehow death seemed more preferable. Yes, I would prefer to live, but I had accepted my fate not long ago that I would die a young, horrible death, simply for being born.

Just to add more fuel to the fire, because I had become that reckless, I spoke out of turn.

“I am aware Serena has been spending time with Nico Cattaneo, but I’m sure if you inform her of Mr. Gutierrez’s offer, she would be more than willing to accept his offer.”

To say my father’s expression looked pissed was an understatement. It was not in my nature to speak out against him in front of others. Yep, I was dying tonight. Maybe it was about damned time.

His tone changed, darker, deadly, “Sophie….”

“Yes, Papa? Would you not think that would be a much better arrangement for the families?”

I think he wanted to reach out and snap my neck right then, but I heard a throat clearing. Damn it! I forgot about him for a minute. He would have probably enjoyed the bloodbath. Watch on as the great Sanchez Don killed his youngest in cold blood in his precious study.

“I think we will stick to the arrangement.”

I felt my body lock. What the hell?

“I would like to speak to Sophie alone for a moment though. Just the two of us.”

My father stared at me as a smirk pulled his lips. Fucking asshole!

“Of course, Dominic. You can use my study. Venite!” He stood up still smirking at me like he won the fucking lottery. I had never used the word hate in the same sentence as my father, but I’m beginning to rethink that. I heard shuffling footsteps, then the door being closed.

Silence. I continued to stand in front of my father’s desk, facing his seat.

In a demanding voice, Dominic said, “Sophie, look at me.”

I took a moment to roll my eyes, put my blank expression back on my face, and turned slowly towards him.

He took his time to look me over. Yep, I’m no prize buttercup.

I was dressed in black slacks, a silky vanilla colored blouse that flowed loosely around me, and slip-on business-casual shoes.

I wore clothes to hide my physique. I hadn’t worn anything that could really show my figure or curves in at least three years, ever since Serena laughed at me in a bathing suit and said, “Look at all your blubber. You’re just an ugly, fat whale. ”

After a while of looking me over, he asked, “How did you know about your sister and Nico Cattaneo? That’s supposed to be all hush-hush.”

I honestly didn’t know why he wanted her when she was out literally screwing the competition, but whatever. It’s his dick that wants to fall off. Not my problem.

“It helps to be the invisible girl. I see and hear things.” I shrugged.

“You do know your father could have your head for this, telling me this.” It was really a statement, not a question.

“Why do you care? He’s going to have my head when you decide you would rather have my whore of a sister, but that’s my problem not yours, right?”

He looked shocked by my response.

“Why would you risk your life?”

“My life has been expendable since the day I was born and deemed useless by my father.”

He stared at me, long and hard.

It really was a shame, because he was a beautiful man. But I was realistic. I didn’t get the beautiful men. I didn’t get good things. I didn’t get family. I got loss. I got grief. I got hate. I got all the ugly things in life.

“Why would you call your sister a whore? Just because she’s beautiful and you’re,” he waved his hand up and down at me, which actually stabbed me in the heart, but nothing new, “you, doesn’t mean you have to say ugly, cruel things about her.”

I threw my head back and laughed. I was laughing so hard, tears were coming out of my eyes. It took me a good few minutes to calm back down, then looked at him. He was staring at me intently, jaw clenched.

“Calling my sister a whore is actually a nice word for her. I get that you’ve probably rode that crazy train once or twice yourself, but next time you do, better wrap up good because last I heard she gave the Enforcer from the Bianchi clan chlamydia.

And she’s slept with at least 56 of the men in the mafia world across different clans, as far as I know of.

” I smirked at him. “I’m sure my Papa would be proud of her tenacious work ethics and value.

” I wiggled my eyebrows at him. Then turned back to face my father’s desk.

“She would make a perfect wife for you.” My voice was void of emotions again. “Much better than the boring, ugly, fat, worthless Sanchez daughter.”

“I haven’t slept with your sister.”

“I find that very hard to believe, since she is such a un tesoro. You wouldn’t want to be the only man in the mafia world to miss out on a piece of that, now would you?”

“You really do have a death wish, fiammetta?”