THE FUNERAL

Florence, Italy.

The rain falls heavily over Florence. Soaking the ground of the old cemetery causing the air to smell of gunpowder and blood..

Avelina Moretti dressed in black kneels before her father’s coffin, her umbrella trembling in the wind as her hand could barely hold on to it.

“Eternal rest is granted unto him,” the priest murmured. His voice was quiet, swallowed by the storm.

Don Marco Moretti lay still in a box of polished mahogany. The ruthless Mafia Lord who once made men hide in fear now looked so small and helpless.

Her father had made a promise to her that their family would always be protected and no harm would come to them but he had lied. He promised to die and old man surrounded by his entire family but he died young.

The people who came for Don Marco’s funeral did not cry, instead they whispered and glanced over their shoulders every few seconds as though expecting bullets instead of sun to calm the rain.

Her throat burned. She wanted to scream at them, scream at the world but she no longer had any strength left so she kept her silence because that is all she had left.

Her world came crashing down two nights ago. Gunfire and broken glasses was the order of the night, Now all that was left for her was a grave, a prayer and a war she had not asked for.

Lighting flashed and the sound of thunder could be heard from miles away. The priest’s voice cracked mind sentence as the sound of car engines could be heard rolling through the cemetery gate.

The sound belonged to her father’s rivals. It belonged to the predators who took her father away from her.

Tires screeched. Doors slammed. Boots could be heard hitting the gravel path in perfect rhythm as the air thickened with tension.

Avelina’s heart froze and even without turning her head she could already tell who it was.

Rossi men.

No… not here. Not today.

She thought in her head as she clenches her rosary.

Rough hands grabbed her as she screams and hits her legs for help but no one dared to help her but instead bowed their heads in fear.

“Let me go!” she shouts, her voice breaking. But her voice was lost in the winds.

A blindfold was soon placed over her eyes as roped bonds her wrist. The scent of leather boots and rainfall fills her nose as the drag her into a car.

The drive feels endless as each turns steals a piece of her courage.

When the car finally stops, the blindfold was ripped from her eyes and cold air slaps her across the face.

The first thing she sees is him.

Allessandro Rossi.

Tall. Sharp. Handsome in his perfectly tailored black suit.

The man her father had called enemy his entire life.

Standing under a streetlamp like he owns the night. Dark hair slicked back, eyes the color of burnt amber- sharp enough to cut glass.

Avelina stares at him with tears in her eyes.

“You have made a mistake,” She says, her voice raw from crying. “If you want to kill me,” she whispers, “then do it now.”

She waits for the bullet meant for her. Maybe it will be quick. Maybe she will join her father and escape this nightmare. She almost welcomes it.

He stands there in silence as he studies her. The corners of his mouth twitch into a mischievous smile

“Kill you?” His voice is low, smooth. “No, Avelina. I’m going to marry you.”

Her heart stops beating and her stomach turns.

For a moment, she cannot seem to breathe.

She lets out a sharp laugh. “You murdered my father, and now you want to own me?”

“I do not want to own you,” He says quietly, stepping closer. “I want to end this war”.

“You end a war by putting a bullet in me” She says to him.

His gaze hardens. “No. By putting a ring on your finger.”

“I will never be yours,” she spits on his face. The men around them tense, One moves forward, but Allesandro raises his hand and wipes his cheek slowly, eyes never leaving hers.

He steps closer, so close she can feel the warmth of his breath against her ear.

“You already are.”

For a long while, neither of them spoke. The rain hit the ground like glass. She could not comprehend what she just heard.

He walks towards her, “Your father killed my brother, so i took my revenge.” Now i have peace.

She laughed — a raw, broken sound. “You call this peace?”

“Careful,” he said softly into her ears. “You’re standing in my house now.”

“This isn’t a house,” she hissed. “It’s a graveyard.”

Allessandro’s eyes darkened. He walked closer until she could feel his breath in her ears.

“You will have to learn,Avelina. You need to learn to make peace with the dead.

“I will never be yours, Allessandro.”

He leaned in, his words brushing her skin like the edge of a knife.

“You already are.”

Avelina’s heart pounded. The rain felt colder now and she shivers. The ropes around her wrists bit deeper.

The guards waited for his command.

Allessandro turned away first. “Take her inside. Make sure she’s treated well and fed.”

“Sir—she fought us—”

His voice sharpened. “Well.”

The men nodded, dragging her toward the doors of the mansion.

Avelina stumbles and looked helpless nut she decided not to let them know her weakness. If she was going to be a prisoner of the Rossi household she vowed not to be a silent one.

Immediately she stepped into the mansion, the smell of cologne mixed with blood filled her nose. The mansion swallowed her whole with the large marble foyer and expensive chandeliers.

As the doors shut behind her, the echo felt final, like a cell door locking.

Somewhere above the staircase, a clock chimed once. The sound was deep, slow, and hollow.

In that moment, Avelina knew two things:

Her father was gone.

And her enemy had just made her his wife.