Falling For The Father

The ballroom of the Marino mansion glowed under the glass chandeliers that reflected light like scattered stars. The air was filled with the scent of fresh roses from the family’s private gardens and expensive cologne, mixed with the aroma of traditional Italian appetisers being served by staff who moved with precision.

Armed guards dressed in tailored suits stood at strategic points, their earpieces occasionally catching the light. They maintained their positions with military precision, a small reminder that this wasn’t just a celebration, it was a display of power.

Standing on the raised platform at the head of the room was Antonio Marino. His sharp Armani suit and perfectly styled hair framed a face that could intimidate and charm in equal measure. At 26, he was already a name whispered in respect and fear throughout the underworld. By his side stood Daisy Fontana, her soft blonde hair flowing freely over her shoulders, her blue gown clinging to her delicate body. She radiated beauty and elegance. 

In the far corner of the room, Vincenzo stood apart, his presence commanding despite his silence. He was a man of few words. Tonight, however, his sharp gaze seemed fixed on Daisy. He barely acknowledged the greetings of the many guests who approached him, his piercing eyes studying her every move with unnerving intensity.

Antonio raised his glass, breaking the sound of conversations, and commanding attention with ease. "Thank you all for being here tonight to celebrate with us. Some of you have known me since I was a boy, you watched me grow into the man who will one day lead our family." His eyes swept the room, acknowledging the powerful families present. "Tonight isn't just about celebrating love, it's about the future of our organization."

The crowd gave a brief applause, and Daisy’s heart fluttered. 

He turned to Daisy and continued. "It's my pleasure to finally introduce my fiancée to our world. As expected of the next Don, I'm supposed to marry someone worthy of our name, someone who can stand beside me when I become the next Don of the Italian mafia. So allow me to introduce Daisy..."

"No!" The sharp cry disrupted the moment. "You can't possibly be serious about this farce."

The voice cut through the applause, silencing the room and drawing every gaze to its source. 

Near the centre of the crowd, Sofia Fontana stepped forward. Her fiery red gown hugged her figure like a second skin, the bold colour reflecting her brash personality. Her dark eyes gleamed with something between triumph and hatred. 

"You can't get engaged to her," Sofia declared, her voice filled with confidence. 

"Sofia, what's the meaning of this?" Daisy asked, her voice low. 

Antonio's grip tightened around the microphone, his knuckles turning white. "What exactly are you implying, Sofia?"

"Oh, I'm not implying anything." Sofia's dark eyes gleamed with malice as she moved closer to the platform. "I'm just stating facts. You're the heir to the most powerful family in Milan. You're supposed to marry someone with value, someone whose blood is worth something." Her lips curved into a cruel smile. "Not some bastard who doesn't even know who her real father is."

"How dare you..." Daisy started, but Sofia cut her off. 

"How dare I? How dare you!" Sofia's voice rose with rage. "You've been parading around like you belong in our world, like you're worthy of the Marino name. Tell them, dear sister. Or should I even call you that?"

"I don't know what you think you're doing Sofia, but you're getting on my nerves," Antonio muttered. 

"My father only has one daughter, and that's me, not her. I didn’t say anything while you two dated because I thought you'd realise that eventually. But it seems this bitch has been making a fool of you this entire time." Sofia glared at Daisy. "So before you make any decisions you might regret, I thought you should know the truth."

Whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire. Donna Russo, wife of a rival family’s capo, leaned toward her husband. "I always said the Fontanas were hiding something," she murmured, loud enough for those nearby to hear. Other mafia wives who had fawned over Daisy moments ago now turned their backs, gravitating toward Sofia like moths to a flame.

In the corner of the room, Vincenzo tilted his head, his gaze hardening. His eyes hadn’t left Daisy even once, watching her reaction as if her every move was a puzzle he intended to solve. 

Antonio turned to Daisy, who stood frozen, her face pale. "Is this true?"

"Antonio, please," Daisy reached for his hand, but he pulled away. "This isn't how I wanted you to find out."

But Sofia wasn’t done. She took a step forward, her voice laced with mock concern. "Of course it's true. Go on, tell him how your mother couldn't keep her legs closed. Tell everyone how your mom had an affair with some random guy while she was married. Tell them how Dad didn’t know you were a bastard until three months after your mother died."

Daisy’s composure cracked, her voice rising. "Shut up, Sofia! Don't you dare talk about my mother!" Daisy's composure finally shattered. "At least my mother wasn't the one who broke up a marriage! Or did you forget how your mother, the maid, was screwing my father while he was still married to mine?"

The crowd's murmurs grew louder. Vincenzo’s eyebrow raised slightly at this new piece of information. 

Sofia smirked, unbothered. "Careful, Daisy. You’re letting secrets slip that might not work in your favour. Dad’s not going to be happy about this."

"Enough!" Antonio’s voice cracked like a whip. He turned to Daisy, his eyes cold. "How long were you planning to keep this from me?"