OATHBOUND: Married To The Don Of The North

“Is Papà waiting for me?” Cara asked, her grip tightening on the door handle, her pulse quickening. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what he had to say, but she knew she needed to. She could almost hear his words in her mind: ‘Cara, you’re my only child now. By my side, you’ll hold the future of this family in your hands.’ She could almost feel it; the weight of her life shifting, closing in, as the heavy responsibility of carrying the family's future fell onto her shoulders. They weren’t just any family. They were La Rosas. Power and blood, it was the foundation they were built on. She had known it since before she could even speak: Trust no one. Don’t back down. Never apologize. But tonight, everything felt different. Agata, her sister, was gone... taken by the war. Now, the Gambinos, the Da Costas, the De Lucas… they were coming for them. And they would come for her next, to destroy what was left of the family. “Miss Cara, your father has been waiting,” Her Papà’s assistant

Edmondo stepped into the kitchen, and the air already smelled like onions. His jaw tensed as the familiar sting built up in his nose at the mere thought of them. Giovanni's voice cut through his irritation. “You know, Mom says onions are good for your eyes. She made sure to add extra.” He glanced over at him, unamused. “I don’t care what she says. I’m not eating them.” His tone left no room for argument. Giovanni chuckled, half-heartedly trying to lighten the mood. “Come on. It’s not like she’s trying to kill you. Maybe you’d actually notice a difference if you gave them a chance.” “I’ve given them enough chances,” he replied, setting the plate down in front of him but keeping it at a distance. “There’s no way I’m touching this, Giovanni.” Giovanni sighed, shaking his head but not letting up. “Look, you know she made this specifically for you, right? She knows what’s going on with your eyes, and she’s doing everything she can. Maybe just try a bite.” “I don’t need your lectures,

The room was suffocating. Everything was blue; the walls, the light, the windows. Blue. Cara had never known blue could feel like this. She had heard people say black was suffocating, but this... this was worse. It was cold here. Always cold. And the food they brought her - crepes, too sweet, too little. Just two tiny things, and that was all. Water? No, no water. There was a leaking tap, but the water stank, tasted foul, but it was all she had. And a stupid blue mat. Twelve days. Twelve days with only the blue as company. Cara sat in the corner, trying to think, trying to figure out how she had ended up here. Why? Her mind drifted to Papà and the ambush. It had turned out to be someone from the north, someone above their world, someone too rich to have any real connections. .....But there he was, walking into her room like it was nothing. His eyes were the first thing Cara noticed. They were impossible. Not blue. Not really. They were too light, like the coldest iceberg in t

The estate loomed ahead, its iron gates dull under the fading sunlight. The estate never felt like home with the kind of life they all lived. The car rolled to a halt, and Edmondo gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white.Dropping Cara off had been a calculated decision, one made not out of convenience but necessity. Her safety wasn’t negotiable, not with wolves circling ever closer. Yet the unease in her eyes before he left lingered in his mind, a silent accusation; 'Why didn’t you tell me sooner?'Because some truths don’t protect; they haunt.Stepping out of the car, Edmondo was greeted by the faint smell of wet stone and tobacco, mingling with the oppressive silence. Waiting, as expected, was Giovanni, leaning lazily against the gate with his usual smirk. The embodiment of carelessness.“So,” Giovanni drawled, his voice light but tinged with venom. “You’re playing knight now? Shielding the damsel from the big bad wolves?”Edmondo didn’t answer. There was no point.