The Hidden Legacy

Alina's POV

We were standing in front of a large wooden door on the second floor. The old man placed his hand on the handle but didn't open it immediately.

“This was your mother's room.” He slowly revealed, twisting the door open for me. My breath hitched in my chest and I felt a shiver run down my body as I stepped inside. 

The room was beautiful, but strangely untouched. Everything seemed frozen in time; the antique dressing table, the books arranged neatly on the shelves, the old photographs resting beside the bed. I walked towards one of them and picked it up with trembling hands. It was my mother but she wasn't the woman I remembered. She looked younger and happier, smiling next to a poker faced Antonio.

“This was the last place she was truly my daughter.” He spoke, melancholy clouding his prideful voice, “Your mother was supposed to take over after me but she fell in love with your father. I disapproved of him and warned her that he was a piece of shit yet she chose him. So, I cut her off.”

“You never reached out to her again?” 

“No. But I never stopped watching.” He admitted without any remorse, “I kept tabs of everything that was going on in your life. I just chose not to interfere.”

“Then why did you reveal yourself now?” I looked at him and questioned.

“Because I realised your father is indeed good-for-nothing.” His voice remained eerily calm, “I know about your father trying to sell you off to Henderson.”

My hands balled up into a fist as soon as I heard his words.

He continued, “My tolerated him failing my daughter but I will not tolerate him offering my granddaughter as payment.” 

I kept the photograph from where I took it and said, “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Let's go for a stroll, shall we?” He offered out of nowhere. 

The garden stretched beyond the terrace, its winding stone paths bordered by neatly trimmed hedges and blooming roses. Tall trees swayed gently in the evening breeze, casting shadows over the quiet grounds.

The old man lit up a cigar and quietly asked, “So… What is the deal your father has offered you?”

I looked down, slowly muttering, “40% of the company and the role of executive director.”

“That's a tempting offer.” He let out a smoke ring and asked, “What is your decision?”

“I don't know…” I sighed, “It's my mother's company but Henderson…”

“Hmm.” He hummed before asking, “What if I told you you can have the entire AV.”

“What do you mean?” I stopped on my tracks, unable to understand what he was hinting at.

The old man did not immediately answer, instead he sat down in one of the tea areas and signalled for me to join. Once I settled down, he put away the cigar and said in all seriousness, “I want you to join us.”

I frowned, “Join you? As in the Voss family?”

“Yes.” The man rose and turned away from me, clasping his hands behind his back as he gazed silently at the moonlit sky, “I am old, Alina. I want someone to take over the clan and carry it forward. Everything I built was meant to belong to your mother. Now that she is gone, it all belongs to you.” He paused for a brief second before adding, “With the Voss name behind you, you will have more than enough power to take AV back, without anyone's help.”

I remained in my seat; for the first time, I could see a way out of the mess my father had created. But I was experienced enough to know it was too good to be true. I asked him, “What's the catch?”

My grandfather turned around, an amused look on his face, “What did you say?”

“I know you are not generous enough to hand over your entire empire on charity.” I did not bat an eyelid and demanded, “What do you want from me?”

For a moment he simply stared at me but then, to my surprise, a quiet chuckle escaped him, “Good. You did not disappoint me. You are smarter than I thought.”

My eyebrows knit themselves together, was that supposed to be a compliment?

“There is, indeed, a catch.” He pulled out the chair opposite me and sat down, “You will marry the man I say.”

I was taken aback, “Sorry, what?”

“I want you to marry the heir of the Carusso family.” He explained himself, completely unfazed.

My entire body went rigid and I felt my throat dry. 

The… Carussos?

The Mafia dynasty originally from Italy, they had spent generations expanding their reach across the globe, building an empire that stretched far beyond the borders of any single country. Their influence ran through businesses, governments and the underworld alike. If Antonio Voss was powerful enough to rule the American underworld, the Carussos were the people who could make the entire world move.

Maybe he managed to see the fear looming on my face, “The Carussos and the Vosses have been rivals for generations. A marriage between you and their heir would turn that rivalry into an alliance.”

“Is it even safe?” I clenched my clothes in panic, “I don't want to die young.”

“Don't worry. They have no reason to harm you. In fact, you will be untouchable with both the Voss and Carusso family behind you.” The old man reassured me but I was still unsure. I bit my lower lip, unable to think straight.

Seeing me deep in thought, the man stood up and straightened his jacket, “Don’t force a decision tonight. Think about it and give me an answer tomorrow.”

I sat in the garden and watched as he made his way into the house. Once he was out of my sight, I fell limp in the chair, confused and exhausted.

Grandfather let me stay for the night in one of the many rooms in his villa. The housekeeping staff were very attentive and made sure I was comfortable. The room itself was warm and surprisingly cozy. Yet, despite the comfortable bed and the quiet surroundings, sleep remained far beyond my reach.

My life flipped upside down in a single day. In the morning, I woke up to a regular day as the Marketing head of AV and by nightfall I discovered that my grandfather is a Mafia boss. And as if that wasn't enough, he had offered me an entire empire in exchange for marrying a man far more dangerous than him. 

Can it get anymore ridiculous than this?

I tossed and turned the entire night and before I knew it, pale morning light was already spilling through the curtains.

I dragged myself out of bed, washed up and headed downstairs.

I found my grandfather seated at the breakfast table, calmly reading the newspaper with a cup of coffee beside him. The moment he noticed me, he lowered it and gestured toward the empty chair, “Come. Have breakfast.”

Once I sat down, he studied me for a moment before asking, “Have you made your decision?”

“Yes.” I folded my hands on the table and looked him straight in the eye, “I accept your terms.”

A smirk appeared across his face as he signalled at his subordinate, who immediately stepped forward and handed me a file. My grandfather announced, “This is the man you are going to marry.”

I immediately opened the file, unable to contain my curiosity, and was greeted by the photograph of a man who looked nothing like the image I had conjured in my head.

He looked to be in his early thirties, with thick, dark hair swept back from his forehead and a sharp, striking face. His features were strong and defined, his jaw covered with a hint of stubble. But it was his eyes that caught my attention, dark, cold and intense, staring into the camera with an almost unnerving confidence.

I stared at the photograph for a few seconds longer than I intended before I forced myself to look at the name printed beneath it.

Roman Carusso.