CHAPTER TWO

Myra.

Friday Dinner night.

The thought had been a knot in my stomach all day, tightening with every passing hour, constricting my ability to even breathe properly with having mini panic attacks. It was the night my father would finally tell me about my future. The Alliance. The marriage. 

In our world, in the Bravata, it wasn’t something you debated or argued about. It was a question of “If” or “Who”. It was a must. A tradition, as a matter of fact it was written in the oath of every Mafia faction and denomination across New York. “You must be willing to submit, everything and everyone for the cause” the cause of power. 

It was a practice as old as the organizations themselves. Marriage was the ultimate seal of alliance, a chain linking two powerful families together, making them stronger. The unspoken goal was always the same: you marry, you have children, and those children grow up to be inked with power in their veins and then those children would also have children, it was a cycle that had continued for years even long before I existed.  It was about legacy, power and bloodlines. Love was a distant secondary thought, only the lucky few are fortunate enough to have it, it rarely ever happened and when it did, it was just like a lucky bonus that comes with a lifetime of burden and constant pressure. 

I tried to calm my racing heart, and deep breath and the constant mantra I have implanted in my skull. Cool, calm, collected. Cool, calm, collected. I’d spent my entire life waiting for this moment, I would be a coward to run from it now and a person born of Morris blood is never a coward. In a strange way, I felt grateful. My father could have easily married me off the second I turned eighteen. I’d seen it happen to other girls my age in other families. The fact that he held off, letting me have these few years of extra freedom, was a kindness I didn’t take for granted. It didn’t make me excited to be handed over like a prized animal, but it did make me feel a little less resentful. This was my duty. My one shot  to make my family feel proud. And I had to try not to be completely useless at it. I just had to hope that he wouldn’t be a monster. I hoped he’d someone I could at least stand to look at. 

“Myra! Dinner, baby! Come down before it gets cold!” my mom’s voice floated up the stairs, instantly calming me, it was familiar, warm and it was calm and collected.

After taking a few deep breaths, I headed down. The dining room was lit softly, the table set with mother’s good china plates and cutleries she always took pride in. My mom was an excellent cook, in fact she was a five star chef and she still was, however, now she didn’t cook for the public as much, it was just us. Even though she tries to avoid it, I knew part of it was being the wife of a feared Mafia boss, people were scared to say her name let alone even eat her food. This was the sad truth about marriage, it makes a person sacrifice far more than they intended. 

Mom gently placed a platter of roasted, ‘beautified’ no as she likes to say “garnished” with a bunch of vegetables. I never understood what those garnishes meant in cooking, in fact I only ever ate and never tried to even participate in the act. I couldn’t cook to save my own life. Once I tried to do so, I ended up blowing up the microwave because I thought it would do the same work as the oven did and I placed an iron pan, with the intention of making a cake for mom’s birthday. I thought if mom was good at cooking, I could be good at baking, maybe it was a genetic thing. Well it wasn’t and after that Incident Dad strictly warned I don’t enter the kitchen to do anything that would and I quote “be of potential harm to my wife.”

Although Dad and mom's marriage was also an arranged one, it was a union between the Rossis and my mother’s family, the Ivanovs, according to my mom then she wouldn’t have thought their marriage would end up the way it did. Looking at them now, you’d never know it hadn’t been an exact picture perfect romance. Their love had blossomed slowly, carefully into something unshakable. Me and my brother always appeared to be grossed out whenever she would tell the tale of their love, which was what she did every time she got the chance. Deep down, I also wanted what they had but I couldn’t be sure about Luca though, he was always saying “Love is not real, it's just a biological reaction to procreate.” It was only for me to hope that whoever I was given to, could give me even a fraction of that same care and that quiet understanding. 

My eyes scanned the room, and I frowned. Luca’s seat was empty. That was strange. He was never late for dinner, especially when my mom was the one to cook the meal. He never missed her meal. 

Mom waved a hand and a gentle smile curled up her face as though she was reading my mind. “Don’t worry, baby. He already called me. He said he has an errand to run and he’ll be a little late.” 

"An errand” we all knew what Luca meant whenever he came up with that excuse. I sighed and nodded, settling into my seat. My dad's eyes caught mine and he gave me a small reassuring smile. I tried to smile back but felt wobbly. We were both dancing around the elephant in the room and kept pretending that it wasn’t there. We started eating, the clink of cutlery the only sound hung in the atmosphere. The food was amazing but it tasted like nothing in my nervous state. My mom made small talk about her garden and my dad smiled and nodded at every word. She was trying to play deflection, but there was really no way to escape it tonight. 

Finally, after the plates were cleared, my dad took a slow sip of his wine. He placed the glass down carefully, the sound against the table echoing in the room. He looked at me, his expression mixed with love, duty and something that looked like regret and pity not just for me but himself included.

“Myra,” he began, his voice gentle but firm. “We have spoken about your duty to this family. The time has come to solidify a very important alliance, baby.” 

My heart hammered against ribs. This was it. 

“We have reached an agreement with a very powerful family, a family that would keep you safe and satisfied. A family take would ensure prosperity and reassurance for generations to come.”

He paused, and the world seemed to hold its breath. My mom reached over and gently squeezed my hand. 

“The man you are going to marry is..”