Betrothed To The Broken Mafia King

Camila's POV

"Go to your room, Camila," her mother screamed, but Camila's feet remained rooted to the floor. It wasn’t the first time her papa had hit her mama, but this time looked different to her 4-year-old eyes. Maybe it was because her mother's skirts were soaked in blood.

Camila approached slowly, her mom’s eyes begging her to go back, and stood a few feet from them.

"Papa," she whispered, and suddenly he stopped.

He looked at her, something moving in his jaw. She raised her hand to him in the universal 'carry me' gesture. He glanced at the woman curled up at his feet before shifting his gaze back to her.

He bent down to her level. "Go to your room, princess. I’ll come tuck you in."

Camila bit her lip, tears springing into her eyes. "Please, papa," she whispered, grabbing hold of his trousers.

He sighed and picked her up, but not before kicking her mama hard one more time in the stomach. Her mama cried out and curled around herself with a whimper. They headed upstairs to her room, and she rested her head on his chest, wishing she could have done something else.

He set her down at the foot of her bed. "Okay, princess. Go brush your teeth so I can tuck you in."

"Won’t you follow me?" she asked. This was their tradition.

"Not tonight, sissy. Now stop asking questions and go," he said, pushing her hips in the direction of her bathroom.

Nodding, she did as he said, walking into the bathroom and putting paste on her brush. Her toothbrush was halfway to her mouth when she heard a shout from downstairs. Startled, she threw it away and rushed out. Her papa was trying to get something from under her bed, and she rushed to him.

"What was that, Papa?"

He released a groan as his head met the wood. "Don’t worry about it, baby. Have you brushed your teeth?"

"No. I’m scared," she said when the noise from downstairs grew in intensity. "Can’t you stay with me?"

He finally got out, clutching a small bag and what looked like a golden bar in his hand. "Sure, honey." He glanced frantically around the room, locking the door, before following her back to the bathroom.

"Papa, what’s going on?" she asked when voices flitted up.

He held his finger to his mouth. "Shhh, okay?" he whispered. "Everything is fine. Nothing will happen to you here."

She nodded and asked in her own whisper, "What about Mama?"

"Shhhh," was his only response, and she had no choice but to nod.

The noise quieted from downstairs, and he looked at her with a smile. "I said everything was going to be fine, right?"

She nodded, but she was still worried about Mama.

"So go ahead and brush your teeth, okay?" He picked up the brush from its position on the floor, cleaned it off, and covered it anew with paste, winking at her as he handed it over with a bow.

She giggled.

When she finished brushing her teeth, he washed her face and piggy-backed her back into the room. He froze as soon as they entered. From his back, she looked up and saw three men seated on her bed with smiles on their lips.

"Go on back to the bathroom now," her father ordered as he set her down.

She nodded, walking backward to the door, but in a swift motion, her arms were grabbed. "Not so fast, child."

Her father tried to reach her, but he was also grabbed and jerked to a halt.

One of them clicked his teeth and raised the bag up with a green book. "Did you really think you could run, Alfredo?"

Her papa slid down to his knees. "I swear I wasn’t going to. Please don’t kill us."

"Pathetic," the man muttered, then turned in Camila's direction. She flinched and lowered her head, and he tsked at that.

"What’s your name, little one?" he asked, coming closer.

She tried to shuffle backward, but the man holding her wouldn’t allow it.

"He asked you a question, child."

"Papa!" she cried when the grip on her wrist tightened, and they all laughed.

"Oh, your papa can’t save you now. Perhaps your mama can?"

She raised her head at that, and he smiled at her, a cruel, flinty display of his teeth.

"Wanna go and see your mama?"

She nodded immediately, and they dragged her out. "Papa, papa!" she cried again.

The man who had spoken to her crouched down in front of her. "You have to choose, child. Your papa or your mama, who do you want to see?"

She thought about it, tears brimming in her eyes. As young as she was, she knew these men were dangerous. Even newly born children in the mafia learned to recognize blank, dead eyes. They belonged to men who loved causing people pain.

"Please," she cried, looking the man in the eyes and crying out immediately when her wrist twinged in agony again. But she didn’t look down. "I choose my papa and my mama. Please," she added again.

The man stared at her for a beat before nodding at the one holding her. "The girl has chosen. Her wish is our command."

They started dragging her papa out of the room, and she was pushed to follow after them. Her papa glanced at her with a little smile, and she smiled back. She couldn’t believe it had worked, but it had. She could be with both her papa and her mama. She whimpered when she was pushed from behind, causing her to stumble, but she continued. The faster they got downstairs, the faster she could see mama and take care of her.

When they got to the staircase, there was a flurry of motion, and suddenly her papa was rolling down the stairs. She screamed and ran after him to the sound of their laughter. He landed at the foot of the stairs, blood gushing from his face, but he only smiled at her. She jumped into his arms, and he grunted.

"What a loving reunion," someone’s voice said, and she was dragged by the hair away from her papa. She screamed.

"Don’t you want to see your mama?" the familiar voice whispered in her ear, and her screams turned to whimpers. She nodded at him, and he moved her away from the stairs towards where the furniture was arranged.

Her mama was in the same position she’d left her, and she ran to her.

"Mama, mama!" she cried. Her mama opened her eyes, and she breathed a sigh of relief before hugging her gently and patting her face. Her mama whispered something in her ears, and she nodded.

"I can be nice; you see that, right?" The man asked, and she nodded into her mama's hair.

"Good," he said, and then there was a sudden bang.

Camila looked up in shock and locked eyes with the barrel pointed in her direction. She was young but old enough to recognize a gun. Her papa carried it everywhere. It wasn’t until she felt something touch her face that she realized what had happened.

"Mama!" she screamed, clutching her mama's face and staring at the hole in her forehead. Her mama's eyes and mouth were wide open, but she wasn’t responding. Behind her, she heard the sound of laughter, but her gaze remained on her mother.

Someone dragged her away, but she didn’t stop looking at her. When her face was turned forcefully, she started screaming and struggling. They were going to take her mama away from her, they were going to...

A palm struck her face. "Would you stop that?" someone shouted at her.

She looked at the man. He was the one who had shot her mama. The gun was hanging loosely in his grip. She quieted, and he released her arm from the tight grip. Immediately, she grabbed the gun from the front of his trousers and pulled the trigger. The man screamed in pain, and chaos ensued for a minute.

When she could see again, the gun had been removed from her hand, and her hands were tied behind her back. Their Boss hit her on the face, and she cried out.

He shook his head at her. "That was foolish, child. Now tell me, what’s your name?"

She just looked at him before closing her eyes.

The sound of a scream forced them open, and she saw that her father was in a chair, shirt off, and limbs tied together. She closed them again, and the night continued in that fashion. She was asked a question. She ignored them, and a scream rose from the other side of the room. Eventually, she slept off or passed out because, when she woke up again, she was in the arms of a man.

"Papa," she whispered, but he shushed her.

"Your papa is dead, child," the strange voice said in a s

oothing murmur. "You’ll be taken somewhere else. Be a good girl, okay?"

She nodded into his shirt and drifted off again.