Bride by Initiation: Secret Society Mafia Marriage Pact (The Underworld Book 1)
Bride by Initiation: Chapter 24

A Month Later

‘Knock, knock,’ Amy’s voice calls out.

I glance up from the briefing I’ve been working on and smile at her. ‘Hey, what’s up?’

She steps inside my office with a box wrapped in brown shipping paper. She sets it on my desk.

The top has Zara O’Malley and Private handwritten on it.

My butterflies flutter. It’s the first time I’ve seen my first name paired with O’Malley after it.

Am I changing it?

Yes.

No. I already changed it from Moulin to Marino when my father came into my life.

That doesn’t have anything to do with taking my husband’s name.

Amy interrupts my thoughts, relaying, ‘A courier delivered this. He said he was instructed to ensure you’re the one opening it.’ She lowers her voice, wincing. ‘He’s waiting outside your door. He’s very persuasive.’

I lean to the side, glancing around her body, and see a young man with a nose ring. He nods at me.

‘Hey there,’ I say.

‘You can’t open it in front of anyone else,’ he blurts out.

I question, ‘Who’s this from?’

‘You’ll know when you open it. Take care, Mrs. O’Malley.’

Mrs. O’Malley.

He turns and exits my sight.

Amy stands on the other side of desk, her gaze pinned to the package. She whispers, ‘What do you think it is?’

I remind her, ‘It says it’s private.’

She nods.

‘I’m the only one who’s supposed to see it,’ I add.

‘Oh! Yeah! Right! Okay!’ She turns and walks toward the door.

‘Thanks, Amy. Can you shut the door on the way out?’ I say.

She looks over her shoulder, and disappointment flares in her expression and voice. ‘Sure.’

She pouts and then mutters, ‘I never get to know any of the fun stuff.’ She steps out of my office and shuts the door.

I look at the box, staring at the writing, with my heart racing.

What did they send me now?

I can’t be sure it’s from the Omni.

Clients send me all kinds of crazy things, but they aren’t always something I want to have in my possession. So I don’t like surprises at my office.

I take a few deep breaths, reach into my desk, pull out a letter opener, and use it to slit the tape holding the box closed. I slide the inside box out and open the lid.

I remove a wad of red tissue paper, and replace a small hard drive at the bottom of the box.

‘What is this?’ I mumble, deciding it must be regarding one of my clients.

My mind races through my current caseload, wondering who this could pertain to. I almost plug it into my computer, then stop myself.

I set the drive down and open my larger desk drawer. There’s a laptop inside. I use it when I don’t know what’s on an external drive. Call it paranoia, but Sean lectured Fiona and me too many times on how to protect our technology from viruses.

I pull out the laptop. I turn it on and wait for it to load. Then, I slide the drive into the computer and double-click on the file.

A video pops up. The image it’s paused on says ‘Happy viewing’ over a black background.

A shiver racks my body. I take a deep breath, press play, and my gut immediately takes a nosedive.

My father, at a younger age, appears on the screen. There’s no sound, but it looks like he’s threatening a man, and they’re arguing back and forth. Then my father takes out a knife and stabs the man several times.

In horror, I put my hand over my mouth, and the name Yury Ivanov flashes on the screen.

My gut churns faster.

Another man appears. My father shoots him in the head. The screen then shows the name Danny O’Connor.

Bile rises in my throat. I swallow hard, pushing it down, unable to tear my gaze off the screen.

Another man is killed by my father, and Arthur O’Malley’s name appears.

A fourth man, called Kosmo Marino, also loses his life before the video ends.

I sit back in my chair, my gaze glued to the laptop, unable to calm my insides. Then I hit play, rewatching it, my head spinning with questions, just as horrified as the first time I saw it.

How could he kill anyone with those last names?

I killed my own blood, I remind myself.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to forget how I killed a Marino, as well as the man who wanted me to choose him at the initiation ceremony.

Something in me makes me watch the video again. Over and over, I watch my father kill men who aren’t enemies.

I don’t understand it, and I need answers. So I pick up my phone and go into my text messages.

It doesn’t take long before my father replies.

I take a deep breath, toss my phone into my purse, then pull the drive out of the computer. I zip it in the inside compartment of my bag for safekeeping, then shut down the computer.

I last spoke with my parents in person when we saw each other in Sean’s apartment. We’ve barely texted, and when we do, it always ends in an argument.

Now, there’s no time to think about our strained relationship. The images of what I’ve done, especially to a woman who was my blood relative, won’t go away. It mixes with the horror of what my father’s done. The guilt eats at me, mixing with the unanswered question.

Why did he do it?

I leave my office and tell Amy, ‘I have to go. I’m not sure if I’ll be back today.’

She arches her eyebrows in question. ‘Where are you going?’

I’d groan inside, but I love Amy. She always wants to know everyone’s business.

‘Out,’ I reply, brushing past her and quickly stepping into the elevator. I text my driver.

The elevator stops on several floors. By the time I leave the building, Calogero is waiting. He opens the door to the back seat. ‘Ms. Marino.’

‘Calogero, I need to go to my father’s house.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ I slide into the back seat, and he shuts the door.

He walks around the car, gets in, then merges into traffic.

My parents’ penthouse isn’t far, but there’s a traffic jam. When I finally get there, my stomach churns again.

Calogero parks, comes around to open the door, and pins me with a look of concern. ‘Ms. Marino, are you okay?’

I take a deep breath and step out of the car. ‘Yes.‘

‘Are you sure? You look pale,’ he states.

‘I’m fine. I’ll text you when I’m ready to leave,’ I say.

He follows me into the building.

‘Calogero, you don’t need to walk me up to my parents’ penthouse.’

He chuckles. ‘You know I do.’

I sigh and then remind myself to talk to Sean. It’s been a month since we married, and he told my father he wasn’t in charge of my security anymore. It may be time for him to make good on that so I don’t have Calogero following my every move. Surely, Sean won’t be this ridiculous.

We get in the elevator. Calogero punches the code for my parents’ penthouse.

We quickly ascend, and the elevator doors open on the top floor.

My father’s waiting for me. ‘My beautiful figlia,’ he says, pulling me into him.

I hug him back. It’s been strange not having the usual relationship with my parents that I’m used to. As much as I’ve wanted to try and make things right between us all, I can’t seem to do it. I’ve found it easier to ignore them while they’re here.

‘Is Mom here?’ I ask.

‘She just got back from her yoga class. She’s in the shower,’ he states.

My chest tightens, and I meet his eyes with mine. ‘Good. I don’t want her to hear us talking.’

His eyes turn to slits. ‘What’s going on, Zara?’

‘We need to go somewhere private,’ I state.

Dad doesn’t say anything as he leads me into his office and closes us inside. He points to the couch. ‘Sit down.‘

I obey.

He takes a seat and turns toward me. He grabs my hands. ‘Tell me what’s going on.’

I open my mouth, but I’m unsure where to start, so I snap it shut.

‘My figlia, what’s wrong? I’m your father. Tell me,’ he urges.

I blurt out, ‘Why did you kill them?’

The color drains from his face. ‘Kill who?’

My mouth turns dry. ‘The Ivanov man, for one.’

His gaze hardens. ‘Don’t speak such things.’

‘I saw it,’ I say, feeling emotional, tears welling in my eyes.

He studies me closer, holding his breath.

I add, ‘I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know who you are. And I don’t know why you would kill an Ivanov.’

His eyes blaze bright. He lowers his voice, trying to keep it steady. ‘I don’t know what you saw, but you’ve never seen me kill a man.’

My voice shakes. ‘You killed Yury Ivanov, Danny O’Connor, Arthur O’Malley, and Kosmo Marino.’

His eyes widen.

‘Don’t lie to me, Dad. I saw it,’ I say, then swallow the lump in my throat.

‘That’s impossible,’ he mutters.

I shake my head. ‘It’s not. I have a video of it.’

He stares at me, momentarily speechless, then demands, ‘I want to see this video.’

I shake my head. ‘No.‘

He seethes, ‘What do you mean, no?’

‘It doesn’t matter. The only thing on it is you killing those men.’

‘Who would send you such a thing?’ he questions.

‘Just tell me why you killed them,’ I beg.

He looks away and takes his hand off mine. He puts it on his thigh, and it trembles. I stare at it, and he slowly closes it into a fist.

‘Dad?’

He jerks his head toward mine. ‘Who is doing this?’

‘Doing what?’

‘Sending you photos and videos about my past! Things you should not know and which are not your concern.’

I soften my tone, putting my hand back on his. ‘I can’t unsee what I’ve seen, Dad. Tell me why you killed them.’

He snarls, ‘They were enemies.’

‘Ivanov? O’Malley? O’Connor? Your own flesh and blood, a Marino? How are they an enemy?’ I cry out. And then the heavy remorse over the people I killed floods me again.

Bile tries to rise up my throat, and I put my hand on my stomach, swallowing it down.

‘You look sick. Do you need the bathroom?’ Dad questions.

I close my eyes for a minute, breathing through the nausea, then shake my head, claiming, ‘I want to know everything. And I know about Aurora and Finzia.’

My father’s face fills with shock.

A chill races across my skin.

He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, then he asks, ‘How would you know about her? Who’s revealing things to you that need to stay buried?’

I cry out, ‘Why does Finzia need to stay buried? There’s nothing wrong with her.’

He warns, ‘You don’t know who she is.’

‘No, you don’t know who she is!’ I insist.

He puts his finger in the air. ‘Listen to me closely, my figlia. You are to stay away from her.’

My voice raises. ‘I’m not staying away from her. She’s my family. Our family.’

‘What’s going on in here?’ Mom interjects.

I glance at the door.

Her hair is wet, and she’s in her pink robe. Her gaze darts between my father and me.

Dad blurts out, ‘Someone is poisoning Zara’s mind.’

‘My mind is not poisoned.’

‘You don’t unbury the dead. Is this your husband’s doing? I’ll kill him!’ he snarls.

‘No! Sean has nothing to do with this!’ I declare.

‘Then who is it?’ he demands.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Don’t lie to me!’

My eyes fill with tears. ‘I’m not! And Finzia is your flesh and blood. Do you even know your sister’s dead?’

‘Zara!’ Mom gasps, putting her hand over her mouth.

The color drains from Dad’s cheeks. He opens his mouth and slowly shakes his head. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You didn’t know, did you?’ I push.

‘Zara, how did you get that information?’ Mom asks.

Surprised, I ask her, ‘You know about Finzia and Aurora?’

‘I told you I don’t keep secrets from your mother. Of course she knows about them,’ he says.

‘Then we should welcome her into our family. She doesn’t have anybody anymore. Her parents are dead.’

Pain flashes across my father’s expression, but then he snarls, ‘Good. Another Abruzzo off this planet.’

My insides quiver. ‘You’re not being fair. He wasn’t one of them.’

‘He was.’

‘Why are you any better when you’ve killed our family friends?’ I challenge.

‘Zara!’ Mom reprimands, her voice shaking.

Dad’s eyes blaze. ‘You don’t know anything! I suggest you stay out of my business.’

‘Then explain it to me,’ I demand.

His face turns red. He fumes, ‘They were enemies. Traitors.’

‘Like you were?’ I accuse.

His head jerks backward, a mixture of disbelief and betrayal on his face.

‘Zara!’ Mom scolds again, rushing to Dad’s side and putting her hand on his shoulder.

He glances at her.

‘Just tell me the truth. I’m not a child anymore.’

My parents stare at each other.

‘Let’s just be honest for once and for all,’ I plead.

Mom shakes her head. She quietly tells my father, ‘This is getting out of control, Luca. Maybe the truth is best.’

‘She’s my beautiful figlia,’ he says sadly.

She runs her hand through his hair. ‘Yes, but somehow she’s learning bits and pieces. She should hear it from you rather than someone else.’

He studies me.

My pulse races faster.

He finally says. ‘Finzia. She must be the one poisoning you.’

‘No, she’s not!’

Dad grits through his teeth, ‘Her father was a disgusting Abruzzo. He stole my sister’s life.’

‘How did he do that? You didn’t even know she was dead until now!’ I fume.

Another flare of pain erupts on his sharp features before the anger returns. He snarls, ‘He impregnated her. He made her fall in love with him. He made her part of that family—a family where she couldn’t even be honest about the blood running through her veins!’

A tear falls down my cheek. I shake my head, asserting, ‘Not everybody’s the enemy.’

‘You don’t know who the enemies are,’ he snaps.

‘But you always do?’ I question.

He points at me. ‘You were not part of my past or that world. And I don’t want you to have anything to do with it! Whoever’s trying to pull you into it, I need to know.‘

I rise and lift my chin. ‘No one’s pulling me into anything.’

He turns toward Mom. ‘It has to be Sean.’

Rage fills me. I explode, ‘That’s not true! Sean does nothing but protect me, and for you to think anything different… Well, you should be ashamed of yourself.’

‘Zara, do not speak to your father that way,’ Mom scolds.

I turn to her. ‘You’re just as bad as him. You cover up his secrets. You allow him to play the role of a traitor and then kill those who do exactly what he did.’

‘Zara!’ Mom spouts.

Dad growls, ‘You don’t know what traitors do.’

‘But what do we do?’ I ask.

‘We?’ he asks, pinning his dark gaze to mine.

I freeze.

‘My beautiful figlia, what have you done?’ His voice is tinged with more than a little fear.

My chest tightens. I shake my head, lying, ‘Nothing.’

There’s something in Dad’s eyes.

He knows I’ve killed people.

‘Zara.’ He reaches for my hand, but I pull it back.

‘I have to go.’ I stand and rush toward the door.

He follows me, Mom right behind him, demanding, ‘Zara, I want to know what you meant.’

I spin to face them. ‘I meant that you and I have difficulty forgiving people or looking past things. I’m learning that we’re wrong. And you’re wrong about Finzia, Dad.‘

‘I’m not,’ he insists.

‘You are. But you know what’s worse?’

He arches a brow.

‘She misses you.’

He flinches, then his expression goes stony.

A tear falls down my cheek, and I add, ‘She remembers you.’

He clenches his jaw and looks away, blinking hard.

I continue, ‘She’s all alone.’

Dad doesn’t say anything and won’t look at me.

I wipe my face, declaring, ‘I have to go.’ I press the elevator button.

‘Zara—’

‘I can’t stay, Mom,’ I interrupt, stepping into the elevator.

I forget to text Calogero, and I step out of the building.

He pulls up, and I slide into the back seat before he can get out of the SUV. He frets, ‘Ms. Marino, you’re supposed to text me.’

‘I forgot. Please take me home.’

He sighs, then drives toward my place, lecturing me on safety.

I look out the window and groan. ‘Not my place. Sean’s.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ He turns around and takes me to the apartment. He walks me up, and I don’t argue, too exhausted to fight another losing battle.

When I get inside, I open a bottle of wine. I’m tired, mentally burned out, and emotionally torn. I hate how I don’t have the same relationship with my parents anymore.

It hurts me that Dad can’t even consider Valentina a good person just because of her father’s last name.

I pour my wine, then take it to the couch. I curl up, take a sip, and put it on the table. I slide down, gripping the pillow.

At some point, I fall asleep.

‘Hey, my pulse.’ Sean’s tone is soft.

I blink hard.

It’s dark, and the lights from the city shine through the windows.

‘Hey,’ I reply.

His fingers stroke my cheek. ‘It’s bedtime.’

I sit up. ‘What time is it?’

‘It’s late. Come on.’ He scoops me into his arms, picking me up off the couch.

I bury my head in his neck, inhaling his scent.

‘Are you all right?’ he asks, walking into the bedroom. He pulls the covers back and sets me down.

‘I don’t know,’ I admit.

Concern fills his expression. ‘What’s going on?’ He sits next to me and unbuttons my blouse.

I sniffle. ‘I don’t want to get into it. Not now, please.’

He studies me for a minute. ‘Okay.’

He helps me undress, then orders, ‘Scoot down.’

I slide under the sheets.

He takes his clothes off and gets in next to me. He pulls me to him, spooning me and kissing the back of my neck.

I soon fall asleep, but I’m haunted all night by dreams of both my father and I killing people.

Every time I scream in my sleep, Sean’s there, trying to replace out what’s wrong. But I can’t talk about it. I’m too ashamed and confused.

He doesn’t push, comforting me until I fall back asleep, then he holds me tighter the next time I wake up screaming.

When morning comes, we’ve barely gotten any sleep. Sean still wants answers, but I give him nothing, not wanting to talk about my sins or my father’s.