BLOODBOUND VOWS

“You’re getting married, Amara.”

The words felt strange at first to her ears

She turned slowly, staring at Carla, the only person in the house who ever showed her a little kindness. Amara’s face was swollen on one side, a faint bruise forming where her uncle had slapped her that morning.

Carla stood at the cellar door, holding a tray of food. She didn’t smile, she really felt so pity for Amara

Amara sat up from the cold cement floor where she had been lying, using the wall to support her. “What did you say?”

Carla came closer and knelt beside her, putting her food down as she spoke . “They’ve arranged it. You’re getting married tomorrow morning.”

“To who?” Amara asked quietly, though deep down, she already knew it wouldn’t be good news.

Carla paused for a second. Then she whispered, “Dominic Romano.”

There was a total silent for some minutes

Amara blinked. Once. Twice. She looked away, her heart beating fast in her chest.

She had heard that name before. Everyone had. Dominic Romano—the man they called The Black King. He was the heir to the Romano Mafia Empire. People said he never smiled. That he didn’t forgive. That his hands were clean not because he avoided blood, but because others cleaned up after him.

And now she was being given to him. Like a gift. Like an object or what will she call it.

“Why?” Amara whispered.

Carla sighed. “It’s a peace deal. Between your uncle and the Romanos. The marriage will stop the fighting. And you… you’re the only Leone girl left.”

Amara looked down at her hands. Small. Shaking. “So that’s it? That’s my life now?”

Carla placed the tray gently on the ground. “Eat something. You’ll need your strength. They’re taking you at sunrise.”

She stood to leave but paused at the door. “This might be hard, Amara. But… maybe it’s better than here.”

Amara didn’t reply. She couldn’t. Her throat was tight. Her chest felt heavy.

Better than here?

Here was hell. But at least she knew this hell.

Now, she was walking into another man’s world—a man more dangerous than her uncle. A man who didn’t need to raise his voice to destroy someone.

A man who didn’t want a wife… just ownership.

She looked at the wall across the room. It had a crack that ran from the ceiling to the floor. She used to count the lines in it when she couldn’t sleep. When the beatings were too much.

Now, she will leave this place.

EARLIER THAT DAY

Her uncle had slapped her so hard she fell against the wall. His voice echoed through the hallway.

“You made her look weak! Do you know what you’ve done?!”

Amara tasted blood but stayed quiet. She had stopped crying long ago.

Bianca, her cousin, stood beside him. Arms folded. Her eyes were cold.

“She helped the man escape,” Bianca said sharply. “I was about to kill him. Amara got in the way. She poured water on him and made a scene. He ran.”

“I thought he was just a driver,” Amara said softly.

Bianca’s hand shot out, slapping her again. “You are stupid. And soft. You don’t belong in this family.”

Her uncle didn’t stop her. In fact, he looked even more angry.

“You are not like Bianca,” he hissed. “She’s strong. She’s one of the best assassins in our group. She brings respect to my name . And you…this is the second time you are failing a mission, just for Bianca to assist you today, you still make her fail….

He looked her up and down like she was dirt.

“You’re a mistake. I should have thrown away the day your parents died…..I cursed the day I took you in as a daughter, because you’re useless with zero usefulness.”

Those words cut deeper than the slap.

Amara said nothing. She didn’t ask for mercy. She had learned it didn’t exist here.

That was when they dragged her back to the cellar and locked her in.

Her ribs ached. Her body was tired. But more than anything, her heart was tired.

Bianca Leone was the daughter of her uncle, he trained….. They are the real definition of like Father…Like Daughter..

The daughter who carried knives under her coat and never flinched at blood.

She had been raised to kill without blinking. Her name already had weight in the underworld—one of the youngest female assassins in the region. Her father’s pride. Cold. Proud. Dangerous.

And Amara?

She was the orphan girl they took in because they had to, just because they’re are family

She’s Too soft, Too kind.

Too… human.

That was why her uncle hated her.

Because even after all the beatings, the insults, and the locked doors, Amara still had a heart.

A heart that couldn’t watch an innocent man die. A heart that stepped in to save someone they should kill..

****

Amara had not touched the food. She just sat on the floor, back resting against the wall, eyes half closed.

Who would not think in this kind of situation, just then she heard a click of heels echoing down the stairs before Bianca appeared, dressed in tight black clothes. Her eyes were lined with dark makeup. Her red lips , well that’s her style

“Well, well,” Bianca said, stopping just a few feet from her. “Look who’s finally going somewhere.”

Amara didn’t bother to answer

Bianca took a slow step closer, looking around the small cellar like it disgusted her. “I heard you’re getting married to Dominic Romano. That’s big.” She chuckled. “The Black King himself.”

She bent a little, looking straight into Amara’s eyes. “Do you even know who he is?”

Bianca laughed again. “Of course not. You’ve lived in a box all your life. Always hiding. Always shaking. You think your big, innocent eyes will save you in his world?”

Still Amara didn’t say a word

“He doesn’t like weak women, Amara. He likes control. Power. Not someone who cries and gets in the way like you.”

Amara looked away.

Bianca stepped closer and lowered her voice.

“But Maybe that’s why they’re giving you to him. And don’t ever imagine he will fall for you. This isn’t a romance novel, Amara. This is real life. And when he’s done with you…. he’ll break you. Like glass.”

“Pahhhhhhhhhh” Bianca make a sound of broken glass