Myra.Friday Dinner night.The thought had been a knot in my stomach all day, tightening with every passing hour, constricting my ability to even breathe properly with having mini panic attacks. It was the night my father would finally tell me about my future. The Alliance. The marriage. In our world, in the Bravata, it wasn’t something you debated or argued about. It was a question of “If” or “Who”. It was a must. A tradition, as a matter of fact it was written in the oath of every Mafia faction and denomination across New York. “You must be willing to submit, everything and everyone for the cause” the cause of power. It was a practice as old as the organizations themselves. Marriage was the ultimate seal of alliance, a chain linking two powerful families together, making them stronger. The unspoken goal was always the same: you marry, you have children, and those children grow up to be inked with power in their veins and then those children would also have children, it was a cycle
Huling Na-update : 2025-11-15
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