Betrothed to the Devil

Nora’s POV.  

I could hear it – those heavy footsteps of his. They were distinct and I could identify them among thousands of footsteps.  

“Why is he coming to see me now? Is it time for me to die now?” I thought, dragging my weak body up from the floor where I had lain.  

Each of his footsteps created a terror within me. It seemed like as each day passed in that dungeon I was locked in, my rebellion slowly diminished – replaced by the fear I once had for him.  

I saw his shadow slowly approaching, stretching across the hallway like a warning.  

The closer he neared, the more the memories I had tried so hard to bury rushed to me – the first time I held a gun, the day he made me kill my mother, the time he laughed while I cried and the day, he made me choose between love and my loyalty for him.  

I backed away reflexively, my hands trembling beside me. I hid myself in the corner of the room, my eyes turned away from the iron rods and fixed on the walls before me. I didn’t want to see his face – didn't want him to see the fear in my eyes.  

Then, I could sense him step into the limelight. Although my back was turned on him, I could feel his dreadful gaze on me.  

That man – a Devil in human form.  

“Hello, Nora. It has been a long time. Seven months, I think?” He asked, but I didn’t dare to turn around.  

Seven months? Is that how long I have spent in here?  

“Face me” he commanded, his voice as cold and hard as ice.  

With no option, I turned to face him, my eyes fixed on the ground, still avoiding his gaze.  

“You look like a ghost. Is that what love has turned you into?” he amusedly asked, followed by a smirk.  

“I thought spending seven months here would make you reflect on your past mistakes and make you become the daughter whom I once knew. But guess I was wrong.” 

“Is anyone there?” I heard him yell, looking in the direction of the hallway. I raised my head up, my eyes following the direction of his gaze.  

“What is he up to? Who is he calling?” I fidgeted, panic-stricken.  

Then, I heard footsteps approaching and then- stopped.  

A young man was standing in front of him – it seemed like he was a new member of the gang since I hadn’t seen his face before.  

Oh, that’s right. I wiped out almost all of his soldiers, so there was a need for him to recruit new ones.  

“Yes, sir. You called for me?” the young man bellowed, bowing his head in respect.  

“Open the gate. I need to have a heartwarming conversation with her. I think it’s only then she would come to her senses” his voice was calm, but the dread beneath it was unmistakable.  

Heartwarming? Heartwarming in his world meant pain and anguish.  

With no word, the man reached for the keys that were dangling in his pocket, by his side. He inserted the key in the keyhole and with one turn, the gate creaked open, screaming the sound of rust and age. 

I pressed further into the corner, wishing the wall could open and swallow me. He didn’t step in immediately – he stood at the entrance watching me, like a lion watching its prey – trying to figure out the best way to devour it.  

Then, he stepped in – taking a step at a time towards me.  

“You know, you used to be the envy of others – A Mafia Queen who used to stand tall, who never stumbled” he quietly said, as he slowly edged towards me. “But I do not know who you are anymore. Who are you?” he asked, abruptly coming to a halt.  

He was staring intently at me, waiting for my answer but I didn’t respond.  

“No matter what, I wouldn’t utter a word. He doesn’t deserve to hear my voice” I had told myself.  

“Didn’t you hear me?” he bent in front of me, closing the gap between us.  

“I just asked who you are. So, open your mouth and answer the damn question!!” he yelled, grabbing my chin and forcing my face upward to look at his. I looked into the eyes of the man I once sought approval from before I could take any step and all I could see in them was anger and anguish.  

He was pained – angry at my silence and I was loving just that.  

I shouldn’t be the only one feeling the pain, he should too since he was the reason for my pain.  

He tightened his hold on my chin, trying to make me utter some words – but despite the pain, I didn’t. I clenched my lips tightly, refusing to let them slip open.  

Eventually, he let go and turned his back to me, circling the cell.  

“Is it because of him? You still haven’t let him go despite the fact that he is dead? Then, I can as well burn his body that is still lying in the morgue. Maybe then, you would come to your senses!!” he screamed, his hands formed into fists.  

At first, I thought he would hit me like he had always done, but he didn’t.  

His body? Does that mean he is still in the morgue? Only God knows how cold he must be. 

“Burn his body? No, I can’t allow him to do that to his body. The only thing I can do to atone for the sins I committed towards him is to lay him to rest” I thought, sniffing back the tears that threatened to roll down my eyes.  

“Are you still there?” my father shouted, calling onto his soldier who had earlier attended to him.  

“Yes, sir” the man said, running to him.  

“Go tell, Alaric. Tell him to head to the hospital and get the body and once he does, he should set it ablaze!!” he commanded.  

His words struck me like thunder.  

Set it ablaze? 

No .... he can’t. He shouldn’t.  

“No, you can’t!!” I cried out, lunging forward- crawling on my knees to where he was standing.  

“Please, I beg of you don’t” I pleaded, my two hands clasped together.  

He froze and slowly turned around to face me.  

My voice – which I had sworn he didn’t deserve to hear, betrayed and I found myself not only speaking, but pleading for his mercy.  

“Ah, so you can still speak? I thought his death had made you deaf and dumb” he said, his voice dripping with disdain.  

“I’ll do anything. Just please, don’t burn his body” I begged, my tears now falling harder.  

“Anything? Are you sure?” he asked, his eyebrow raised in amusement.  

Reluctantly, I nodded my head in affirmation.  

I had sworn to never bow to his orders again – to never tremble at his feet, but for Liam, I was willing to do all those and even worse.  

Lowering himself to my height, he said with a look of twisted satisfaction: “Then, be his bride”. 

My father who never believed in love wants me to get married to someone? What is he up to? And who is this supposed groom? 

“His bride? Whose bride?” my trembling voice asked, as confusion washed over me.  

“Il Sangue Freddo's” my father announced, his eyes gleaming with delight.  

The name hit me like a bullet in the chest.  

‘The Cold Blood’ – that's what the name meant. The man who lived in the shadows and I had never seen. The very man my father always trembled at the mention of his name. The man I had killed hundreds for without knowing their offences.

He was a bloodied criminal who gave orders to Mafia Bosses ..... including my father.  

Marry such a man? I would rather die, than share my breath with him!!