Beneath The Jersey(Skate…sweat…seduce)

•GIA•

Mario Montez... He was my nightmare.

He was a ruthless mafia king who killed for fun and didn’t care about anyone’s feelings but his own.

He had two little sisters whom he protected with his life, and when my father killed his youngest sister in a failed assassin job meant for Mario, he came after my family and took everything that my father owned.

He made him pay for his sins, and he stripped my father of everything that belonged to him. Including me.

“I’d rather die than marry you,” I said firmly, looking him in the eye.

“We will see about that,” he replied as he sat down and looked up at me with a smirk on his face.

I scoffed as I got up from the couch and went to my room. He kept me hostage in his house for 6 months, and then, suddenly, he wanted to make me his wife.

It sounded absurd that he wanted to marry the daughter of the man who had killed his younger sister.

I thought he was going to kill me by now instead of keeping me alive just to torture me.

He locked up my parents in one of his dungeons to kill them slowly.

He was a monster, and I didn’t want to marry a monster. Not even if my life depended on it.

Not when he held my parents captive in a dungeon that was so inhumane to have actual people in it.

I detested him. He had to kill me first before I agreed to be his wife.

“Tell me when you are ready, sweetheart. This marriage will be in your best interest.” He said, while standing outside my door.

The asshole dared to follow me up to my room. If he thought I was going to be weak and give in to whatever he wanted from me, he had to think twice.

When his footsteps disappeared down the hallway, I leaned my back against the door and cried.

I had to do something because there was no way that I was going to marry him.

So, yes, I was going to kill myself to prove to him I meant it when I said that I’d rather die than marry him.

I took off my shirt and took the knife that I ate my breakfast with in the morning and went to stand at the corner of the room and looked up at the camera that was installed by Mario.

I wanted him to see me when I killed myself and finally freed myself from him. If I wasn’t ever going to be free from him, then, by death, I was going to be free.

“You’ve made my life a living hell, Mario, and I hope you live every single day of your life regretting everything that you put me through. And again, I’d rather die than marry you,” I declared.

For the last time, I cried and tried to brace myself for the pain that I was going to feel after I pushed the knife inside my abdomen.

The prospect of enduring that pain and leaving my body for good horrified me, but I was as good as dead with Mario.

So, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and quickly pushed the knife inside me.

Or so I thought I did, before I felt muscular hands grabbing my hands.

I looked down and saw that the knife was close to my skin, and if I had been quick enough and less hesitant, the job would have been done.

He took the knife from me and chuckled. I hated him so much that I felt like bursting into pieces when I heard that mockery laugh of his.

He loved to see me break and be miserable.

He knew that asking for my hand in marriage would drive me to the edge of my sanity after everything that he had done to me.

He wanted to see me die a slow, painful death of cardiac arrest. I was never about to be free from him until my heart gave up and stopped beating on its own.

Only the walls of my prison knew the depth of my misery and my desperate longing for freedom from him. To escape. To die.

I wanted a day when I could breathe, and there would be no sign of Mario. I dreamt of my death. Fantasized about it and saw myself between the heavens, finally free. It felt real every time.

“I will never marry you, Mario.”

“I wasn’t asking you to marry me, sweetheart. I was simply telling you that you will marry me.”

“I hate you,” I said with tears in the corners of my eyes, and it took everything in me not to spill them.

“Well, I hope next time you won’t try to kill yourself in my house. I hate ghosts,” he snarled before he turned his back and walked to the door.

“Why don’t you let me go?” I asked.

“You belong to me now, Gia, and I will do as I please with you,” he replied as he turned and looked at me.

“I didn’t kill your sister. I would never kill in my life. Why am I being punished for my father’s sins?” My voice was breaking. I was on the brink of crying.

Even though I couldn’t control myself from falling apart in front of him, I knew he enjoyed seeing me like this.

He enjoyed seeing me beg him to let me go or kill me. It gave him more power. It boosted his ego, and he felt proud. He felt good.

“Anna will come and prepare you for the wedding. I’ll be delighted to see you walking down the aisle,” he smiled as he walked out the door and left.

My father was a very skilled assassin before his mission to kill Mario failed, and he accidentally ended up killing his younger sister.

Top government officials and mafia lords employed him to assassinate people who intimidated them and threatened their power.

My mother and I knew about his job and got used to it.

So, my father kept us safe on a remote island, away from people who might discover his identity and go after us.

But little did he know, he was no match for Mario Montez.

When Mario found him and found us, he tried to get the name of the person who had employed my father to assassinate him, with no luck, because the people who employed my father never disclosed their identities to him.

They just called him and sent him money to get the job done. He didn’t ask questions; Instead, he did his job.

So, for revenge, Mario took my parents hostage in a dungeon and then took me hostage in his house.

He took me once to see my parents being tortured in their cells. They were being fed small portions of food once a day, with a glass of water every 2 days.

They were being starved. He wanted my parents to be malnourished until they died.

They urinated and defecated on themselves and did not receive a bath for days.

I stood there and watched my parents as they suffered, and there was nothing I could do.

All I could do was hope that they get through each day. I hoped that someday a miracle would happen and they would be free, and I would be free.

I hoped we would be together as a family again. Happy. While Mario remained a distant memory of the past.

So, since hoping for how things could be didn’t help me, taking my life was the only way out of this. Or, it was, until Mario walked in on me trying to take my life.

“Cheer up, Gigi, you’re getting married to Montez,” Anna said when she found me on the bed, lost in thought.

She was the house help and very kind to me. She was like a friend some days when I needed someone to talk to.

“He’s a monster,” I answered.

“It doesn’t mean he won’t be a good husband to you,” Anna replied, trying to keep a positive mood.

“He wants to marry me so that he can torture me all my life,” I protested.

“I’m positive that he will change his mind once he sees you in one of these dresses,” she answered with a smile on her face, and I looked at the dresses... My gosh, they were beautiful.

I imagined myself in one dress, stealing the hearts of those who would be at the wedding.

Getting a lot of them falling in love with me, and a prince in shining armor would come to my rescue and sweep me away from the arms of the beast to his safe and kind hands, and then he would run away with me.

It was a dream, but fantasizing about my freedom kept me going.

I wanted to have hope that someday I wouldn’t see Mario anymore. I didn’t want to give up and accept my fate that I would forever be his prisoner.

“Did he buy them?” I asked in disbelief.

“He bought them especially for you. He bought two so that you could choose the one you want.”

I got up and looked at the dresses carefully. They were just too beautiful, and I couldn’t help but admire them.

I’ve always wanted to get married someday in a beautiful ball gown wedding dress, and Mario had bought two for me to choose from.

For a split second, I wanted to get married to him. I scowled after I thought of myself walking down the aisle to him instead of running away in the arms of my savior.

“They are beautiful,” I admitted.

“So, which one are you going to wear?” Anna asked, holding up the two breathtakingly beautiful dresses.

“Choose the one for me you think will be perfect,” I replied, trusting her choice.

I didn’t care which dress I had to wear to marry Mario.

“I think this one will be perfect,” she said, putting the one with glitter on the bed.

It was my choice when I saw the dresses, and I smiled lightly.

A few minutes ago, I would have taken my life and freed myself from him. But now, I was going to be his wife.

That thought alone crippled me and made me feel like crying. I needed an escape.

“Alright, you can take a shower. I’ll take care of everything,” she offered.

I smiled at her and went to the bathroom to take a shower.

I loved Anna. She was an older sister that I never had. She tried to make me smile, even though she knew I was dying inside, being kept in this house against my will.

Many times, she tried to convince me that Mario didn’t hate me, that his actions towards me stemmed from expectations placed upon him because my father killed his sister, Francesca.

It was his way of doing things to torture the whole family of anyone who betrayed him. His failure to act would brand him weak.

He had to be a ruthless and heartless mafia king to maintain respect and loyalty among his people.

I hated him.

***

A few hours later, Anna took me to the ballroom downstairs for my wedding. The room was crowded with people who I assumed worked with Mario.

There was no one I knew. I felt like a lamb going for a sacrifice.

My heart was pounding in my chest as I strolled down the aisle.

I could see Mario with a smirk on his face through the veil that covered my face.

He was proud of himself to see me do everything that he wanted. His people viewed him as powerful.

He knew that no matter how much I tried to fight him, he would always win.

Even after being kept in the house for 6 months, I had my dream wedding in the house. With the wrong man and in the wrong venue.

Mario was crushing me bit by bit, and all those pieces hated him more.

He could have at least had our wedding outside and allowed me to see the sky again before I handed myself to him as a peace offering.

He would have at least brought my parents for me to see so that I would give myself to him with a smile on my face.

But no, he wanted me to feel small in a room filled with people I did not know. His people probably knew why I was in his house.

When I arrived at the altar, he took my hand and lifted the veil from my face. He smiled when he saw the ruins of the makeup on my face.

When the so-called minister pronounced us husband and wife, I kissed my life goodbye. Mario Montez won.

I was now married to him.

Gia Montez.