Page 4 of The Mobster’s Rebel

“Oh, I just might,” he said with a sly grin. Although he stood there tall and annoying, in my head I kicked him in the balls. He’d crumple to the ground, and I’d get a bit of amusement.

“Given the scum you are, you probably do.”

“Scum? I’m a man, and you’ve grown up. If…” He stopped himself as the earpiece muffled out something. His face hardened before he reached for my arm. “Come on.”

I dodged his grasp, swiftly moved around him, and walked down the stairs to the dining room.

“Late again,” my father hissed while he kept his eyes on his phone. The man didn’t even bother giving me his attention for a second. That was the way it was. He paid for my clothes and acceptable gifts on my birthday or for the holidays because we had company. Other than that, I was a waste of time and money.

“Good morning, Father, Brother,” I replied, unbothered by the remark.

“You’re getting married in one week.” I gasped. Spots filled my eyes, and the room swayed. I grabbed on to the nearest surface, the edge of the sideboard, to break my fall.

“Oh, don’t start, Sister. This is the best thing for you,” my older brother said from his perch on his imaginary throne beside my father. My chest vibrated with anger. I glared at my brother, but he just scoffed. I wanted to set that damn leather chair ablaze, but alas, I could only enjoy those moments in my dreams. They were nearly identical in every dang way, from the way they parted their hair to the way they sat.

I clamped my mouth shut and plastered a fake smile on my face—the same one I gave them for every single demand. My feelings never mattered, so it was futile to even argue with the Rosetti men. The outcome for a woman ended in one of two ways, and neither was pleasant. As their family, I only ended up with a beating.

“May I ask who I’m marrying?” My voice was calm yet firm as I questioned them. My father had a lot of connections. All of them were shady. I had no intention of marrying a man in their world. I wanted a good man, and they knew it. Still, I would allow myself to grieve and plan privately. My tears would only bring them satisfaction, especially my brother.

“Don’t worry about that information. You’ll find out when it’s time. All we need you to do is prepare and pick a proper dress. Don’t disappoint your new family, or we’ll make sure you don’t make it to the service.”

“Of course.” I nodded. If my body could explode with anger, I was certain I’d be in a billion pieces right now. How the hell could he be so dismissive about the rest of my life? Did he truly not care for me at all?

“You can leave us now. We have more important things to discuss.” More important? The damn nerve of the old man and his freak replica. My animosity grew with every word. Still, I held out hope that he actually cared. The foolishness of that almost made me laugh out loud.

“I suppose I’ll eat breakfast in the kitchen,” I muttered under my breath.

“Maybe you should have come down sooner.” My brother needed a punch in the face. He should be serving time for killing that guy, but apparently my dad had pull. I bit my tongue and nodded. The kitchen was where I had most of my meals anyway. When I entered the room, Martha had my plate ready.

“Eat.” She slid it across the island. I pulled out the high-back stool and then sat down.

“Thank you. So, from the look on your face, I’m assuming you heard the news.”

She brushed her hands on her apron and then leaned over the counter, grasping my hand and giving it a squeeze. “Yes, I heard them discussing the arrangement.”

“Did you learn anything about the groom?” I asked as I chewed on my breakfast sausage.

“Not that was discernable. He warned me that if I wanted to live, I wouldn’t question it either.” I understood completely what she meant. If she overheard anything that she wasn’t supposed to, she’d be punished.

“Well, it can’t be much worse than here.”

“That’s a good way to look at it.” She smiled and pressed her hand on mine once more before moving to the stove.

My father came in and looked at Martha, narrowing his eyes.

“Um … when am I going to buy my dress?” I asked, trying to distract him from his annoyance with Martha. If I was out shopping, I might be able to use it as my window to escape. They weren’t trapping me in a marriage to some random mob goon. Who the hell did they think I was?

“The wedding planner will be arriving tomorrow. Do not ask her about the groom or the family, or she’ll go missing. Understood?” Were they planning to keep me locked up until the wedding? He stared directly at Martha, reminding her to keep quiet.

“Yes, Father,” I answered softly while my brain worked quickly. Sure, my body was filled with fear, weak from the shock, but I was used to the emotional and physical abuse. Gathering my wits was a priority.

He waved his hand. “Are you finished with your breakfast?”

“I just started. I was telling Martha that I’m getting married, and she wished me the best.”

“I understand you’re shocked, but it will happen either way.”

“I’m sure it will, but that doesn’t mean I need to be pleased about it. I’ll vent to whoever will listen,” I remarked.