XI. Time To Think.
. . . . .
"I will what?!" I spluttered on my chamomile tea upon hearing my father's declaration.
"You must marry." He stated once more, deepening my scowl.
"Father, I don't remember consenting to this arrangement."
"As the heir, this is your obligation." He said softly. "I apologize, Lucrezia, but it must be done so." His face bore a look of sincere regret.
Drawing in a deep breath, I confronted him, "Why the urgency? It's only been five days since my introduction to the mafias, and now marriage? And you won't even explain the reasons!" My voice was laced with anger.
Indeed, marriage was never in my plans, especially after being named the heiress. I'm prepared to embrace my responsibilities, but I'm entitled to receive a proper explanation. Moreover, this could be my chance to actually experience marriage. My romantic prospects are bleak, and while an arranged marriage might not appeal to everyone, I'm ready to accept it.
A straightforward reason is all I'm asking for. Yet, he can't even grant me something as simple as that. 'Disappointing.'
"I guess you can say it's part of the family tradition."
"Tradition? But you and mom married for love, why can't I?" I raised a brow in disbelief, my frustration mounting.
He sat on the couch, opposite from mine and heavily sighed. "I wasn't supposed to marry your mom." He revealed as he run his hand through his hair.
That made me fell silent. I had always viewed their marriage as a fairytale, a union built on love and mutual respect. To hear that it was not part of the plan shifted my perspective entirely.
"The one I was originally betrothed with is her younger sister, your aunt, Alissa."
"Oh."
"However, fate had different plans and thus, I married your mother."
"Oh. . ."
"It did not matter that time whom I was to marry, as long as I married into the Italian mafia then all is good."
'That was something I never expected to hear.' However, on the bright side, the conversation prompted me to reevaluate many aspects. "Father, what if I refuse?" I asked tentatively. "What if I choose not to marry?"
He sighed in frustration and gazed at me earnestly. "Nevertheless, it still and will remain as your responsibility as the heiress."
'I know.' He has been saying that for who knows how long now. It's getting repetitive and annoying.
I gazed blankly at the teacup on the table, which was now too cold to drink. "And if I were to agree. . . whom would I marry?" I asked, tone laced with pure curiosity.
"It's still undecided. You have plenty of time to consider how to approach this, Lucrezia." He replied with a look of consideration in his eyes.
I have plenty of time to think this through?—. . .
'Is he perhaps suggesting that I should flee?' I pondered, frowning at the idea. That's obviously not an option for me. Not after I've become the heir.
Shaking my head to shook off the baseless thoughts. "I'll take my leave now, father." I stood and hurried out of his office not waiting for any of his reply.
So much had occurred which was all too sudden lately. 'As father stated, I have plenty of time to think this through.' I hummed as I strode through the halls. The echo of my footsteps reverberated against the polished marble floors.
I needed space to breathe, to process everything that had been thrown at me.
Beep beep. My phone vibrated and lit up. Pulling it out of my pocket, the notification read, 'A penny for your thoughts?'
Oh, for the love of God.
I scowled at the floating notification in my phone. 'Why won't this pest leave me be? It's been weeks!'
This stalker better cease their antics, or they'll regret it once I discover their identity. 'I will skin them alive.' It was an unspoken promise I made since this insanity started.
Putting it back my pocket. I made my way to the kitchen, searching the refrigerator for something to quench my thirst. Milk, juice, sodas— they were all there, but none caught my interest.
My gaze shifted to the cabinets, and that's when I spotted it— a bottle of red wine, just what I was craving.
I took it out and set it on the kitchen counter, foregoing the search for a wine glass. With a swift motion, I uncorked the bottle, the sound of a loud pop echoing sharply in the quiet room.
Just as I was about to take a generous swig, a sudden gasp from behind stopped me in my tracks.
"Miss, you can't just do that!"
'Oh, Franklin?' I turned around. "Well hello to you too." I greeted him in a casual manner.
He strode to the shelves and selected a wine glass, handing it over to me before promptly departing without saying a word or bothering to return my greeting.
I let out a deep sigh, letting it slide.
I began to pour the red wine, starting with just a trickle, savoring the rich color as it filled the glass. The familiar aroma wafted up, promising a moment of respite from the chaos of my thoughts.
The thought of marriage made me pause. It could mean sacrificing my aspirations of becoming a self-made, strong, independent woman. 'True, I am wealthy, but that wealth is my father's doing.' I shrugged.
My ambition is to amass a fortune on my own, to see billions in my account earned from my own endeavors and hard work. I envisioned building an empire that reflected my values and vision, not just inheriting a legacy crafted by someone else. But alas, I can't really complain much. It was mine to possess once father passes away anyway.
Sighing deeply once more, I contemplated the implications of my situation.
Word of my status has undoubtedly spread among the other families. The Viviana's hold significant power as one of Italy's most formidable mafia. It's likely that many are now vying for the position of becoming my husband, lured by the promise of power and wealth that will come with the name.
I sipped on the bitter wine and facepalms myself. "In the span of two months I got apprehended, I got threatened, I got scolded, I got into troubles which was caused by a man and now I'm getting myself into marriage?" I groaned in my sit. "Fuck! What am I doing with my life?"
This is all overwhelming.
I sat in my seat, drinking the stress away. Pouring and sipping, pouring and sipping, again and again, until the wine bottle was no more. Each glass felt like a small release, a momentary escape from the pressures that had been piling up around me.
As I drained the last of the bottle, I felt tipsy but not enough to lose consciousness. After all, I was a heavy drinker.
"Gosh, I-I've been encountering weird ass people." I grumbled. "Annoying bugs."
Beep beep. My phone that was sitting on top of the counter automatically lit up once again. 'Why don't you come with me instead? I can treat you better.' The message read.
My right eye twitched. "Oh, fuck off!! You're literally a weird creep behind the hidden cameras!" I yelled loudly that my voice echoed through the kitchen and probably outside the halls. "Fucking stalkers." I growled lowly.
Another beep and my phone lit up. 'Calm down. It was a joke.'
I laughed maniacally. "A joke?! Trash! Your whole existence is a joke!!" I couldn't stop laughing as if I've gone crazy. Cackling like a maniac in the empty room. "You're not even funny you fucking creep!"
'Oh well. . . Maybe I am truly drunk.'
My phone no longer lit up after my outburst. Making me scoff in triumph. That must've stunned the stalker.
I sighed once again, "Marriage marriage. . . What's even good about it. . . Marriage here marriage there." I ranted. "My younger brother is out there pursuing a young maiden! He's literally more likely to get married before me!"
I rested my face on my hands.
I wanted to become the heiress, and I can't even handle this. Ridiculous!
'I shouldn't have made a comeback if I'm this weak and bothered because of a simple marriage!' I convinced myself. 'I'm pretty sure whoever the other person is, will be against this as well. At least we will have something in common if that's the case.'
Unlikely to catch feelings.
'I feel exhausted. Arranged marriage is not ideal for me but backing out on this is so unlike me. I always push through, and I will get through every hardship. That's who I am. Strong and wise. I will be able to handle something as simple as this.' I cheered myself as I poured more wine on the glass.
Indeed, marriage is a sacred union, but it doesn't truly exist if it's only recognized by law. The thought lingered in my mind, swirling with the wine as I took another sip.
"That's it!" I sprang from my seat, a playful smirk playing on my lips. 'There's no need for a church wedding. Just signing the documents is all it takes!' I wandered around the kitchen, mulling over the idea with satisfaction.
I could even draft a contract outlining the dos and don'ts. It would be binding only if both parties consented to the stipulated terms.
This plan of mine was flawless!
A wide grin spread across my face as I envisioned how it would all unfold. "Now, all I have to do is inform father about my decision." I muttered.
I'll agree to his idea of me getting married.