Binding Rose: A Dark Mafia Romance(6)
I have ten years to come up with a plan to save my sister. If I can’t come up with anything that will help her in the end, then at least I’ll have enough time to teach Iris how to defend herself. To use her wits. Her brains and fists, if she needs to. Like my younger brother, Shay, Iris has always been fond of knives, so I make a note to gift her a sharp dagger as my wedding present. Whoever the cunt is that ends up calling her his wife will think twice about hurting her with that in her hand. Nothing keeps a man on his guard better than the suspicion that the woman lying beside him in bed can slice his throat while he’s at his most vulnerable.
Once all the names are in the bowl, Giovanni Moretti stands up from his seat and picks up a discarded pen from the table. He then proceeds to use it to slice his palm, creating an ugly gash. I store that piece of information away for the future. Although he might look like any other reputable businessman that wouldn’t dream of getting his hands dirty, Giovanni Moretti could kill his enemy by severing an artery in a man’s neck with just a tip of a pen if he were inclined to do so. Droplets of blood drip to soak the yellow papers in the bowl as he takes turns to look every man here in the eye.
“On my blood, I swear to protect and care for the woman who will ensure the life of the Outfit. Let her sacrifice bring union to the famiglias.”
I take his words in, dissecting their meaning.
Moretti has mostly been silent throughout today’s exchange. Not that I was surprised by his demeanor in any way, since it’s common knowledge that Giovanni prefers to keep his true thoughts close to his vest. He likes to observe his surroundings and catalog his foes’ weaknesses just by listening to them go on and on in their rants. A trait of a great leader, if you ask me.
But the oath Moretti decided to pledge today speaks volumes of his concern. Just like Athair and me, he doesn’t want any harm to come to his daughter either. My respect for the man increases tenfold as his blood continues to drip, and I find myself praying to the Almighty himself that if Iris needs to enter such a crime family, then let it be the Outfit.
Moretti grabs the paper and then reads it—rocks are slung to my stomach when it’s not my sweet sister’s name that falls from his lips.
“Valentina Rossi.”
He shows us the paper and pushes the bowl to the next made man sitting to his side. It’s no secret the Cosa Nostra and the Outfit hate each other. Picking the Rossi girl is a blow to both families.
The bowl continues to make its rounds, and when it’s Athair’s turn to pick a name, he surprises me by grabbing my hand and pulling me next to him. My father then makes a show of slicing both our palms with the pen, clasping them together before droplets of our mixed blood fall into the wretched bowl that is to seal my sister’s fate as well as my own. I hold my breath as my father utters his oath and then looks to me to repeat it, word for word. As his heir, I follow his lead and do my duty. Everyone in this room knows what my father’s intention is with this one deliberate move—what it symbolizes. Even after his death, I am to uphold his oath as my own.
The men sitting at this table hear our vow and wait on bated breath to see who is chosen.
When the name Rosa Hernandez comes into view, a myriad of emotions assaults me all at once.
This is it.
This is the woman I will be shackled to.
And though I just promised not to hurt her, I hate her already.
The blow continues to make its way through my body, my heart beating a mile a minute with the realization that my future is now entangled with the cartel princess. The only thing that brings me out of my reverie is when my baby sister’s name is called out.
And God help me, I’ve never wanted to have a gun in my hands more just to kill the Volkov fucker who just breathed Iris’s name with a smirk.
The Bratva.
My baby sister is to wed the Russian pigs who view women as disposable property.
They will snuff my sister’s wild spirit out.
Iris will be a pawn in their twisted games.
They won’t stop until they break her.
“No,” I yell out. “Choose another.”
Vadim smiles sinisterly. “Now where would be the diplomacy in that?”
“You can’t have her.”
“I can, and I will.”
“Tiernan,” Athair mumbles softly, but unlike every man here, I hear the tremor of fear in his voice.
“I said fucking pick another one!” I slam my fists on the table.
“No. She’s my son’s now.” His eyes gleam in triumph, while Alexi stares into blank space, not moving a muscle. “Actually, Iris will belong to all my sons. As I see it, my family needs you just as much as you all need mine. These are my terms. The Irish girl is to be made a Bratva princess to all my boys.”
“Over my dead body!”
“That can be arranged.”
I launch myself at him from across the table, but two pairs of hands pull me back. I look to my left to find Giovanni shaking his head, ordering me to cool it, but it’s the man to my right that actually gives me pause and stops me in my tracks. Alejandro Hernandez stares me down with his dark eyes, silently commanding me to stand down. Never in my wildest imagination would I ever conceive of the idea that one day Alejandro would come to my aid and prevent me from starting a war. But in doing so, he’s already making it clear to everyone here where his alliances are, considering the fact that I’m to be his family.