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The mafia's bride
The mafia's bride
Author: Mary Simmons

Prologue

As I raised my hands, my fingers shook like leaves in the wind, and my heartbeat quickened to the rate of a hummingbird. When Damon grabbed my hand in his strong hand, he held it firmly and steadily as he placed the ring onto my finger. Damon is a very steady and powerful hand. 

Twenty very little diamonds are set in white gold. 

What other couples took to be a manifestation of their love and commitment was, in reality, nothing more than a declaration of his ownership over me. A constant reminder of the shiny gilded prison in which I would be confined for the rest of my life. It wasn't just a meaningless phrase to them, unlike the vows of so many other couples who entered into the sacred bond of marriage willingly together . There was absolutely no way for me to get out of this marriage. I was Damon's until the very end.

It is possible that the last few words of the oath that men had to swear when they were initiated into the mafia might have just as easily been the last words of my wedding vow: "I enter alive, and I will have to get out dead."

I should have fled while I still had the opportunity to do so. It was impossible to get away now, as hundreds of faces belonging to the Chicago and New York Familias gazed back at us. Divorce was not an option. In our world, the only acceptable way for a marriage to come to an end was through death. In the event that I was still able to evade Damon's vigilant eyes and those of his minions, the fact that I violated our agreement would result in war. There is nothing my grandfather could say that would stop Damon's family from exacting their revenge for embarrassing them in front of others.

My feelings didn't matter, never had. My upbringing had taken place in a society in which people, particularly women, were not given any choices. 

There was no love, no trust, and no freedom of choice in this wedding. It was about performing what was required of you, as well as honoring your duties. 

A commitment to maintain peace. 

I wasn't a complete moron. I was aware that this was also about money and power, but it wasn't the whole story. Both were experiencing a decline as a direct result of various criminal groups such as the Russian Mafia known as "The maquese," the Taiwanese Triad, and others striving to increase their influence in our areas. It was necessary for the various Italian families throughout the United States to put an end to their feuds and collaborate in order to prevail over their adversaries. It would be an incredible privilege for me to wed the eldest son of the New York family. Since the day I became engaged to Damon, my father and all of my other male relatives have been attempting to convince me of this. Fear tightened its hold on my body despite the fact that I was aware of this fact and it wasn't as if I hadn't had the opportunity or the time to prepare for this very moment. 

"You may kiss the bride," the priest instructed those in attendance. 

I placed a hand to my head. I felt like I was being watched by every eye in the pavilion, and everyone was looking for the slightest sign of vulnerability on my part. If I let my fear show, Father would be upset, and Damon's family would use it against us. But because I had been brought up in a society in which a flawless mask was the only form of security offered to women, I had no issue training my face to assume a calm expression when necessary. Nobody would ever know how badly I wished to get away from here. Damon alone among the others. No matter how hard I tried to conceal myself from him, I was unable to do so. My entire body was inconsolably trembling.

When I looked into Damon's icy gray eyes, I could tell that he was already aware of the situation. How frequently did he make other people afraid of him?

Recognizing it most likely came as naturally to him as breathing. 

He stooped down to meet me halfway, bridging the gap of ten inches that separated us. There was not the slightest indication of uncertainty, fear, or hesitance on his face. My mouth was shaking as it came into contact with his, and his eyes were riveted on me. Their message was quite clear: You are mine.

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