"He made a deal with the devil," Marcello guffawed, amused. "Your father isn't all that bad. He has love for you. He tried very hard to make me back out of this. To bargain with things other than his daughter's life." He let out a low chuckle. "But the more he begged me to spare you, the more I wanted you."
Marcello took steps closer to me, licking his lips, causing me to let out a terrified cry, as I watched my life flash before my eyes.
"Once I found out what his daughter looked like…" Marcello drawled, cocking his head to the side, "there was nobody else I wanted. Nobody else I would rather be with. Nobody else who would interest me. I had to have you. I had to make you mine, even if it was the last thing I did. All I could think about was you. Your wild hair, your big, captivating eyes. Your gorgeous lips that would look good wrapped around my fucking cock."
My heart thumped against my chest, wishing that he would stop with his disgusting words. With his relentless torture. I stared at my father with pleading eyes, my eyes glistening with tears.
Wishing that he would find a way to put a stop with this.
Wishing that he would find a way to save us from this situation.
To make this horrible nightmare come to an end.
Marcello lifted his finger and traced my collarbone, causing me to shudder, and go pale in shock.
Wishing that God would put an end to this.
"I'm so sorry, Zara…" Dad wept. "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. Please forgive me…"
"H – how could you do this, Dad?" I whispered, my voice so low it was barely above a murmur. My heart was in my throat. "You failed Miriam all those years ago… And now you've failed me, too."
I quivered, feeling utterly and completely numb and defeated.
After how hard I'd studied, how hard I'd fought for independence…
This was how my life was going to conclude?
Being forced to marry a sick, middle-aged man against my will…?
A dangerous man, with Mafia involvement…?
"I n – never wanted it to come to this," Dad whispered. "I tried so hard to back out of it… So hard. I thought I would be able to play them at their own game. To save you, before they got their claws into you…"
He trailed off his sentence, shaking his head.
"You bargained with my life," I quivered. "You took a risk with your own daughter's life…"
"You don't understand, Zara…" Dad quivered. "If this doesn't go ahead, it'll cause a war. A war that we won't be capable of dealing with. This is the Mafia, Zara. They don't play around. I would rather have you alive… Than in a casket."
He took his head into his hands, burdening his shoulders.
"So you're going to let him marry me?" I croaked. "You're going to let this twisted bastard have his way with me? God knows what he could do to me, Dad…"
My eyes fogged with tears, as my surroundings continued to spin around me.
Feeling hollow.
Empty.
Worthless.
Feeling like a dead woman walking.
Feeling like I would be better off six feet under the ground, than living a life like this.
Living a life in fear.
Who knew what this man was capable of?
Just the sheer reality that I had lived off blood money my whole life made me feel sick to my stomach.
Hit me like a ton of bricks.
Wondering how many families had suffered…
Wondering how many people had died.
In order for that money to get into the palms of the hands of my father.
"H – he's going to r – rape me, Dad…" I whimpered helplessly, tears continuing to roll down my cheeks.
"Enough!" Marcello roared.
He brought his hand up to my face, slapping me…
Hard, with such a force…
That I toppled backwards.
My hand sprung to my face, which was stinging, burning underneath his touch.
Hot tears fell down my cheeks, and I couldn't stop them.
I couldn't fucking stop them.
"I should have broken up this pity party a long time ago," Marcello snarled.
"Please, Marcello…" Dad quivered. "It's not too late. You can have any woman you want. Why do you have to have my daughter…"
"ENOUGH!" Marcello roared, cutting him off of his sentence. I jolted upwards, my entire body convulsing.
And the next thing I heard…
Made my blood run cold.
Marcello took a gun out of his pocket, bringing it upwards…
Ready to cock it and aim it.