Chapter 3

Aurora POV

The slap comes hard and fast, snapping my head to the side with enough force that I’m sure my skin has split in half from the contact.

“Who the hell gave you permission to get that drunk? You couldn’t even make it home last night.” My father’s voice hisses in my ear; a low and controlled growl just barely being contained at the edge. “You’re brought shame to this family.”

I swallow thickly, trying to keep my knees from locking. “You agreed to let me go out last night before I left.”

His expression twists into something dark, his hand raising again for another slap I try not to flinch at. It’s hard not to cower with such venom being spat at me, let alone him hitting me. But I do my best to hold my father’s steady gaze.

Even if the pounding in my head is making it hard to concentrate.

Despite Gianna telling me to just take the beating and hope that this will make my father reconsider marrying me off to the Guerreros, I don’t know if any of this is truly worth it. Being subjected to pain like this feels like torture. Especially when there’s no guarantee he will stop.

Before my father can hit me again, another voice slices through the tension.

“Sir. She’s meeting with the Guerreros tonight. Perhaps we shouldn’t be leaving too many marks on her.” Gianna’s father, Stefano, comments.

Those words alone are enough to make my father hesitate, long enough for me to back away and out of his range. I’m glad I have someone here who is on my side, even if Stefano can’t exactly stand in the way of my father punishing me.

Reminding him why I’m here to begin with, of why I’d been born at all in order to fulfill this specific purpose, is all it takes for my father to finally lower his hand.

“The meeting… it’s tonight at seven, correct?” His fingers twitch at his sides, as if he’s still aching to strike me again.

Stefano nods.

And just like that, the tension shifts, redirected to something new. He takes a slow breath, exhaling, and then brings his hand up to adjust the cuff link at his wrist.

Behind him, my stepmom Beatrice and her daughter Camilla linger like shadows, circling me like the vultures they are with their venomous smiles already stretching across their faces. They don’t have to say anything, I can already feel their satisfaction and delight after seeing how close my father had been to being pushed over the edge.

I’m an easy target, ripe for the picking; a weakness they love to exploit whenever they can. Some days I truly believe that’s Beatrice’s goal—to watch me suffer and to watch my father break me down piece by piece until there’s nothing left.

I always feel like I lost my father, too, the moment my mother passed away. I’m just an outsider to this family. A stain everyone wishes to erase or use for their own benefit. Sometimes I wish my father would let me leave here so I can find peace somewhere else.

Other times… other times I wish he would just kill me. Maybe then I could finally be with my mother again.

“The Guerreros might find out what happened.” Beatrice notes. “Her being out late last night… what is her fiance going to think? It could mean him calling off the engagement entirely.”

My body stiffens.

Adding more fuel to an already dying fire. That’s my step-mother’s specialty. She can never just fan the flames, she loves to stoke them instead. She doesn’t want this situation to calm down, she wants my father to explode again and for me to be caught up in the blast.

My father’s expression remains unreadable but I don’t need to see his face to catch the way his fingers are slowly curling into a fist again.

Damn it.

I brace myself for another beating, for my step-mother’s words to wind him up again.

Gianna scoffs from the other side of the room.

This entire conversation, she’s stayed close by her father’s side, though I can see the frustration practically vibrating off of her. She’s been wanting to step in and stop this from the moment the first slap came.

The only thing holding her off is her father, keeping her in check like he always does. He’s a silent but firm presence next to her, keeping her from crossing the room and putting herself between me and the Giovanni family’s boss.

Even still, she can’t help but speak up. “Not that anything did happen last night since I was with her the whole time, but what would it matter? That old man is well past his prime. You can’t honestly expect he hasn’t slept with dozens of people himself. Why would it matter if his new bride is a virgin?”

My father’s attention flickers over to her. He doesn’t respond to her directly, instead he looks at Stefano. “Keep your daughter in check.”

On the other side of the room, sitting on one of the couches, is my half-brother Luca. He idly traces patterns on the arm of the chair, a bored frown on his face while he watches us all argue. When he clears his throat, the entire room turns to look at him.

“I think we shouldn’t be so obviously with trying to please the Guerreros. It’ll damage our reputation if we’re seen as catering to their every whim. Wouldn’t it be better to fight them head-on then trying to appease them by sending a bride?”

At fifteen, he’s far too young to truly understand the game we’re all playing, yet despite that, is already being groomed by our father to be a key player in it. While what he says may be true, it’s still a naive outlook on the reality our family is facing.

Getting on the Guerrero family’s good side is the only way we’re going to be able to poison them from the inside out. If my father had half the power to fight them, or even a fraction of what he likes to parade around, he wouldn’t be bothering to offer me up, wrapped in silk and gold, on a silver platter to be used as a bargaining chip.

“That’s a simplistic way of looking at things.” He says to Luca. “Far too simplistic. It won’t work.”

My half-brother frowns, his lips parting as if he’s ready to argue but at the last second he says nothing else. Instead, he practically sinks back into the couch, his jaw clenching from the rejection.

A year ago our father might have considered his opinion, may have actually listened and taken my half-brother’s suggestion into consideration while devising a potential strategy.

But that was before we made the wrong enemies.

The unfortunate reality of being in a mafia family is that power shifts like the tides—one moment you’re untouchable and then the next, you’re scrambling to stay afloat.

My family is currently drowning, forced into desperate situations.

The Guerrero family suffered heavy losses last year.

The Italian familias in the city - our family, the Guerreros and another ally, the Ferrari family planned an attack against the Russian group new to the city.

It should’ve been a clean attack, a message of dominance for any other group thinking they could make a mark for themselves in this city against the three that had already long since established themselves.

Only, on the day of the attack, the Guerreros were left vulnerable with no sign of their allies at their backs.

Many of their men died that day, including two of their next Capo Dominic Guerrero’s most trusted subordinates.

But clearly, the Guerrero's losses were not enough to drag them down. It only angered them.

My father and the Ferrari family explained that it was all because of miscommunication -- they sent people to let the Guerreros know they would be late, but the message was never delivered.

However, Dominic Guerrero has still been cutting down the Ferrari family piece by piece, erasing their existence with brutal execution. And now the knife is at our throats.

So, in order to make peace, my father decided to provide one of his daughters to the Guerrero family.

He’d originally planned to marry Camilla off to Dominic, the son and heir of my now fiance, but the younger Guerrero outright refused to have any part of an arrangement that involved my family.

After that, all my father had left to bargain with was me. Auctioning me off to Leonardo Guerrero like some prized cow.

“You need to get ready to meet with them.” My father says, turning to me. “Go. Beatrice and Camilla will make sure you look at least presentable.”

I nearly sigh but don’t argue. I have no energy for it anymore.

I’m taken out of the room and brought to Camilla’s dressing area upstairs. It’s an impressively sized room, practically as big as my own bedroom. Rows and rows of clothes line either side of the walls and in the middle is a large shoe rack that takes up practically the entire length of the room.

Forced in front of a mirror, both my step-sister and step-mother force a few outfits over my head, before deciding on one that clings to every curve I have. Jewelry is thrown around my neck and wrists and then I’m sat down at Camilla’s vanity.

Makeup is dusted over my face and my lips are painted a shade too red for my liking.

I stare at myself in the mirror, at the stranger looking back at me.

“Ugh, you look like a whore.” Camilla’s nose wrinkles as she looks at my reflection, then she laughs. “It’s perfect. Now what am I going to wear?”

Beatrice tuts. “We’ll make you look amazing."

Camilla giggles behind her hand. “Maybe I’ll dress simple. I wouldn’t want to steal the old pervert’s attention away from Aurora.’

Bile leaks into my gut.

Her cruel words aren’t even necessary. We all know how this evening is going to play out.

Just then, my father strides into the room, sparing me only a passing glance before turning to Camilla. “There has been a slight change of plans. The heir is going to be attending tonight as well.”

Camilla immediately perks up. “Dominic?”

“Yes. It seems he’s decided to accept his father’s invitation after all.”

My step-sister squeals. “I need to change! I have the perfect dress I’ve been saving! Aurora, get out.”