Bride by Initiation: Secret Society Mafia Marriage Pact (The Underworld Book 1)
Bride by Initiation: Chapter 31

‘Get dressed, then go through that door,’ Byrne directs.

I glance at the black suit.

He warns, ‘Remember, don’t step out there unless you’re willing to make a sacrifice.’

My gut drops. I hate not knowing what’s in front of me, but there’s no other option. Zara and I have come too far not to take our seats at the table.

Byrne pats me on the back and states, ‘Good luck, lad.’ He disappears through the door we entered.

I grab the suit off the hanger, put it on, then step in front of the mirror. I stare at my reflection, trying to calm my nerves, muttering, ‘Don’t be a pussy.’ Then I turn, open the other door, and the sound of chanting hits my ears.

‘Om,’ the men boom.

‘Ahhhh,’ the women follow.

The room reminds me of two college classrooms put together. Two women, dressed in gold lingerie, lead me down an aisle to the center of the room. They disappear, and I gaze around.

Hundreds of men and women fill seats, circling a center stage. Every row is higher, so everyone can see. A huge table, surrounded by seven women and seven men, is the only thing on the stage. There’s plenty of room around it, so I wonder what else might get brought out once the ceremony starts.

The women in the audience wear long, black satin spaghetti-strapped dresses. And the men wear suits like mine. Unlike at initiation, no one wears a mask, and every nationality seems to be represented.

Zara appears, wearing the same black dress as the other women. She’s guided toward me from across the room by two men wearing nothing but gold thongs.

I clench my fists at my side.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Touch her beyond escorting her to me, and I’ll kill you.

They stop when they reach me. She unloops her arms from theirs, and they disappear around the side of the stage.

I take a deep breath and slide my arm around her waist.

She points her blues at me, full of anxiety and excitement.

I squeeze her waist and pin her closer to me, still unsure what the Omni will require of us, not trusting anyone in this room other than her.

A tall man rises from his seat at the table, and the room goes silent. His face has a diagonal scar from his right temple to the left side of his jaw. A familiar Russian accent fills the air, declaring, ‘Your consistent effort to earn a spot at the table has not gone unnoticed. Tonight will be the final test to prove you are worthy of the sacred role.’

It’s Kirill.

How did he get that scar?

He turns toward a man, stating, ‘Salvatore Abruzzo, you have won the honor of choosing the ceremony. What have you decided?’

The air in my lungs escapes in a whoosh. I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut.

He orchestrated my father’s death.

My fist curls at my side, and I scowl at my father’s murderer.

Salvatore, a short Italian man, rises. He scans Zara with a lewd gaze.

Deafening silence fills the air.

I grit my teeth, tightening my grip around her waist. I hold myself back from killing him, remembering Byrne’s warning.

Salvatore announces, ‘Tonight, on the seventh moon, we will invoke the Ceremony of the Sacrificial Lamb.’

A gasp fills the air.

Kirill’s head jerks backward.

‘What is that?’ I blurt out.

Salvatore’s lips twist. He gives Zara another lewd once-over, then turns his attention to me and declares, ‘Your wife is the lamb.’

‘Excuse me?’ I burst out.

‘What does that mean?’ Zara murmurs, then shoots me a freaked-out look.

Salvatore points at the men sitting around the table and explains, ‘The seven of us will have her, and you will sit and watch. Kirill and I will enter her and cum inside her when the moon is at its brightest.’

‘Like hell, you will!’ I protest, pushing Zara behind me and glancing menacingly between him and Kirill.

But Kirill’s expression doesn’t match Salvatore’s. He looks uncomfortable.

So I object again, ‘No way.’

Kirill clenches his jaw.

Salvatore steps in front of me, looking up and pinning his haughty gaze on mine. ‘Your seat at the table depends on completing the chosen ceremony. I have selected the Sacrificial Lamb. Your wife is our lamb. The sacrifice is yours. You will sit and watch or not earn your spot.’

‘The spot you stole from my father,’ I seethe, pushing Zara farther behind me and clenching both fists.

Shock fills Salvatore’s expression. He snarls, ‘What did you say?’

‘You killed my father.’

‘I wasn’t present when your father took his last breath.’

‘You’re just as responsible!’ I accuse.

His lips twitch. He taunts, ‘Your objection to our ceremony means your sacrifice must double.’

The crowd gasps again.

‘Salvatore,’ Kirill warns.

It doesn’t stop him. He states, ‘Fourteen men will now have her instead of seven. And I’m still coming in your wife tonight.’ He winks.

Any discipline I have breaks. I lunge at him, reaching for his neck and pulling him to the floor.

His hands flail, trying to pry me off him, but he’s too weak for me. His eyes widen and he makes choking noises.

A chaotic feeling overtakes me. It’s the same as when I was in the underground fighting ring, fighting for my life. I pin my body over Salvatore’s and squeeze my grip tighter. His cheeks turn purple.

‘Sean!’ Zara shouts, but I barely hear her.

Blood slowly seeps into the whites of his eyes, and his attempts to pry my hands off his throat weaken.

‘Sean!’ Zara cries out again.

It doesn’t take long before I realize there’s no more life in Salvatore. I slowly get off him and glance at Zara, trying to catch my breath.

She has her hand over her mouth, and fear fills her eyes.

I jump in front of her again, looking around the room.

Tension builds, creating more dread within me. The audience stares at us, emotionless and silent.

No one stopped me.

A man at the table rises and declares in a Greek accent, ‘Your seats at the table are revoked. You have broken a sacred rule.’

‘Which would be what? Don’t kill those who kill your father?’ I snarl.

‘Sean,’ Zara mumbles, reaching for my hand.

I look around us to make sure no one is within reach of her.

The Greek man answers, ‘The Omni are untouchable. No member of The Underworld can kill them. You will be sacrificed after your wife is given to the fourteen men. She will watch you die, then follow you in death.’

‘Override token,’ Kirill booms, stepping next to us.

The crowd erupts with loud gasps, followed by more tense silence.

My heart thumps harder against my chest cavity.

Zara digs her nails into my thighs, her knees wobbling.

The Greek man’s eyes narrow.

I blurt out, ‘What does that mean?’

Kirill announces, ‘It means you’re safe and will fill your seat with an alternate ceremony.’

I stare at him in confusion, unsure why he’s helping us.

Another man at the table interjects, ‘The committee has to approve. This is an unprecedented, serious violation.’

‘Approve it,’ Kirill orders.

Another man rises. He’s bald, with huge biceps and wide shoulders. ‘The only way I’ll approve is if Sean uses his token. And, Kirill, both you and Sean will owe us a nonnegotiable,’ he says, in what might be a Ukrainian accent.

I seethe, ‘Fine. Take my token. But the nonnegotiable doesn’t involve my wife or me having sex with anyone else. From this point forward, sex is off the table.’

An older Black woman with dark hair lined with gray streaks rises from her chair. She hands Zara a tube of lipstick. It’s the same tube that she found in my pants pocket. She orders in a French accent, ‘Put it on.’

Anger flares in Zara’s voice. She snarls, ‘You planted this in our home?’

‘Told you I didn’t touch anyone else,’ I say to her.

‘Yeah, well, I don’t know anything about those coins!’ she declares.

The woman with the lipstick states, ‘Your gold coins are a payment for the death of Salvatore.’

My breath catches in my lungs. I recover and fume, ‘You wanted me to kill him?’

Kirill barks accusingly, ‘You wanted me to use my override token.‘

The Ukrainian man replies, ‘What matters is where we are at right now. Do you accept the solution, or do you want death?’

‘As long as there’s no more sex involving my wife or me, you can take my token,’ I assert.

He narrows his gaze. ‘So no token and a nonnegotiable not involving sex. Done?’

‘Yeah. I’m good,’ I declare.

‘Kirill?’ he asks.

Kirill hesitates, then agrees. ‘Fine.’

Approval fills the man’s features. He looks around the table, ordering, ‘Hand in the air to approve, hands on the table to object.’ He raises his hand.

The others all follow.

‘Good.’ He steps in front of Zara and me. ‘Do you vow to uphold the laws of the Omni, preserve the initiatives of The Underworld, and maintain secrecy of our utopia?’

‘I do,’ Zara affirms, gripping my hand.

‘I do,’ I proclaim, squeezing hers back.

He smiles. ‘By the power of the Omni, I grant you a seat at the table.’ He turns toward Kirill. ‘When we deem it’s time, you will marry our chosen one.’

Kirill objects, ‘You can’t arrange my marriage, Fedir. I’m King of the Omni. Only I can decide whom I marry.’

‘All kings need a queen. You’re forty-five, and you’re past due to take a wife. You also just agreed to a nonnegotiable, so stop objecting. You know the rules,’ Fedir warns.

Kirill grinds his molars.

Fedir turns toward me. ‘You will give your sister, Fiona, to Kirill.’

‘No fucking way,’ I blurt out.

Fedir scoffs, pointing out, ‘You changed the course of your fate and your sister’s when you didn’t choose the redhead.’

I protest, ‘I’m not handing my sister to him.’

Fedir reminds me, ‘You agreed to a nonnegotiable. A broken agreement within the Omni is punishable by death. Is that what you want for you and your wife?’

‘I’ll use my override token,’ Zara interjects.

Fedir chuckles.

A chill runs through my blood. I tug Zara into me. ‘What’s so funny?’

Fedir points at us. ‘You two have a lot to learn. You cannot use an override token for someone who doesn’t have a seat at the table. And you can never use it for your husband’s debt. A debt of one spouse is also the debt of the other.’

‘That’s stupid,’ Zara says.

‘It’s one of the rules his father made,’ Fedir says, glancing at me.

Damn you, Dad.

I declare, ‘My sister is not meant for an arranged marriage.’

‘You are wrong. Your sister was meant to sit at the table. Your father wanted it,’ he declares.

‘Not like this,’ I insist.

Fedir asks, ‘So you object to her marrying a man who stood up for you and saved your life and your wife’s?’

I open my mouth but quickly shut it.

‘Is there another man here you wish your sister to marry?’ he questions.

I gaze at Kirill, breathing through my nose, staring at his scar-riddled face.

There is no way Fiona will ever be attracted to him.

He can’t marry her.

‘Well? Do you object? I can kill you, Kirill, and Zara now if you wish to backtrack on your promise,’ Fedir announces.

My gut flips.

I don’t even know this guy.

I’ll figure this issue out later.

‘Fine,’ I state, vowing there’s no way I’ll let my sister get near Kirill.

Fedir asks, ‘Kirill? Do you agree?’

He grumbles, ‘Fine.’

‘Great! When it’s time for Coronation, you’ll give your sister to Kirill,’ he says to me, then snaps his fingers in the air.

Two men in gold thongs carry two seats onto the stage and put them at the end of the table, next to Kirill’s spot.

Fedir motions toward them. ‘Please. Have a seat. Take your rightful places at the table.’

I lead Zara to the seat between Kirill and me, for some reason deeming it to be safer than the unknown woman next to me.

Fedir announces, ‘My honored Omni, please welcome to the table, the Grand Duke Sean O’Malley and our Grand Duchess Zara O’Malley!’