04 "The proposal"

Andrew DeLuca.

After my parents' passing, I took over full control of the businesses. I was discreet, and I needed to be, for I was the Don.

The "Don" in a mafia organization is the term we use for the supreme leader or head of the criminal family, and well, that was me. Andrew DeLuca.

My parents came to New York to establish businesses here when I was still very young. I didn't know anything and thought life was a game. Until I witnessed my father's death before my eyes.

I don't remember much about my mother, she left when I was very young. Or at least, that's what my father told me. Since then, I learned to be alone—well, I had a younger sister, Isabella. Ize had a strong personality, which unfortunately caused me more trouble. She was active in the mafia too, but unlike me, she had a good heart and compassion, which I found useless in our world.

So, my childhood wasn't easy at all. The mafia was my only family. It was one of the few things I had left. I didn't have other options.

While many might consider loneliness a bad thing, for me, it was a blessing.

I had front businesses, making significant profits. I owned jewelry stores and other ventures. A successful businessman in front of everyone, and the family's boss behind the scenes.

"If you're not going to tell the truth, spare me your excuses," I said to a member of the organization who had betrayed us."

The man cried in pain as I had been forcefully cutting his arm since the morning.

"Kill this useless one, I'm tired," I told my henchman, and I could hear the sound of a well-placed gunshot in my ears."

I felt no remorse. Traitors didn't deserve pity, and I valued respect greatly.

"Sir," one of the henchmen entered my office, "The girl just arrived."

I smiled with satisfaction, like someone awaiting their prey. "Let her in," I said.

I had been observing the beautiful woman for quite a while. She was gorgeous. Her father owed me a lot of money, always drinking and gambling at my business points. Her debt kept accumulating, and I didn't care if this amount wouldn't make a difference to me. I had to set an example for everyone. If I didn't, I'd be the one ending up poor.

Every month we held a meeting about the organization, and I was being pressured to get a wife, that's right. The mafia had a strong connection with traditions and family values. Having a wife was kind of seen as a way to uphold these traditions, pass on values, and create continuity in the family hierarchy.

I wasn't interested in getting married at all, but council approval was important. I liked enjoying life with various women, so I decided to kill two birds with one stone. Observing the daughter of the man who owed me, I became extremely interested. She had something familiar about her, something that drove me crazy. I became obsessed.

Emma would marry me to save her father, and it would be a contractual arrangement. I could go on living my life without a nagging wife demanding fidelity, and at the same time, enjoy the woman I desired—without feelings, of course. I believed that over time, she would also develop a physical interest in me.

When Emma entered and stood before me, I felt something that I couldn't quite explain. It seemed to be physical attraction, or who knows what. Anyway, when I proposed the contract to her, I knew she didn't have much of a choice. So, I would hold a ceremony for the closest ones to witness that I was taking my position seriously and that I was getting married.

And with a girl so beautiful, no one would notice which family she came from. That was the least of my concerns.

I must admit, I enjoyed seeing the fear in her expression, it was amusing. I wanted her, and that was clear. She knew she had to give me whatever I wanted. Otherwise, I would truly kill her father. There are no half-measures with me.

I showed her the mansion, and she observed every detail. Emma looked me up and down, and I believe she summoned the courage to speak to me.

"I will marry you under contract," she said, "But in exchange for my cooperation, I want to ask for something."

"And are you in a position to ask for something?" I laughed ironically.

"I... I just want to ask you to protect my father while I'm here. I will obey you if you protect my father."

I stared at her, studying her as she awaited my response. Her courage intrigued me. It was something rare to find in my world. Most people knew it was better not to make demands. She was different. There was something in her eyes, an indomitable flame that seemed to challenge the darkness surrounding her.

"Alright, Emma," I finally said, making my decision. "I accept your pact. Your cooperation will be valuable."

There was a brief glint of triumph in her eyes, but she quickly controlled it. She knew our agreement was a double-edged sword. She was binding herself to me, to a dangerous and ruthless world. I could wake up today and not know if I'd be alive tomorrow—I was accustomed to that.

"But remember," I added, my voice taking on a darker tone, "you belong to me now. Protection comes at a price."

She nodded, her gaze unwavering. She understood what was at stake, and I knew she didn't underestimate the gravity of the situation.

As we parted ways, I could feel intrigue growing within me. Emma wasn't like the others around me. She was an enigma, a variable I hadn't predicted. And I was eager to see how far her courage would take her in our dark world.

Emma left my presence accompanied by my guards. I poured myself a glass of my finest whiskey and analyzed every detail of her body as I watched her walk toward the exit. What I appreciated most about her was that she didn't comport herself like the others around me. She wasn't afraid to challenge me, and I confess, I loved being challenged.