Keeping My Bride by Angela Snyder

Chapter 1

Verona

Present Day

ISIT QUIETLY in the corner of my father’s office. My hands are clenched in my lap as I listen to what he’s saying to the other man in the room. Blood is pulsing in my ears so loudly that I can barely make out their words.

Papa is planning out my life at this very moment, my entire future depending on his every word, and I don’t even have a say in what happens.

When Salvatore Vitale made an unexpected visit to the house this morning, I should have known my father was up to something.

I’ve only been back home for a few weeks, and my father hasn’t said more than several cursory words to me the entire time. Maybe he knew this was coming. Or maybe it’s because of something else.

When I was nine years old, my mother overdosed on sleeping meds and drowned in the swimming pool. I didn’t know what suicide meant at the time, but I still find it hard to believe that my mother would have done it on purpose. She loved me. And I loved her. She wouldn’t have just left me. To this day, I still believe it was an accident.

After her death, things changed in my house. Papa barely spoke to me. Maybe he simply didn’t know how to handle me and my emotions.

All I know is that eventually he deemed it not safe for me to be living at home anymore, and he sent me away to an all-girls boarding school in another state. After I graduated, he didn’t ask me to return home. No, he sent me away again to live with a great aunt. And let me tell you, there was nothing great about her.

When my grandfather passed away a few weeks ago, Papa finally asked me to return home, although it doesn’t really feel like home anymore. So much has changed, and yet my father’s attitude towards me remains the same. I feel like a burden to him. Alone and unwanted, just like when I was a little girl.

After all the years of being away from my father, I can’t believe he’s trying to send me away yet again. It’s as if he can’t stand the sight of me. Maybe it’s because I remind him of Mama. Everyone always says how much I look like her…

My father abruptly stands up from his desk in the large room and shakes Vitale’s hand. They agreed on something, and I wasn’t even paying attention. I was lost in my own thoughts as my future was decided for me right before my eyes.

“So, we agree that Verona and Luca will be married one week from now?” my father announces.

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I do my best to keep from screaming out in protest. He can’t just barter me like cattle…can he?

Mr. Vitale nods and firmly shakes my father’s hand before letting go. And then he turns, meeting my gaze with piercing gray eyes that match those of his son. I open my mouth to speak, but Mr. Vitale walks out of the room before I can say a word, leaving me alone with my father.

My bottom lip trembles as I dare to speak up to my father. He was never a gentle man, even when I was a little girl.

“Papa,” I start as I rise from my seat and take a step towards him.

He suddenly raises his hand, stopping me dead in my tracks. “I don’t want to hear your complaints, Verona,” he says, boredom dripping out of his voice like he didn’t just decide my entire future without giving me a say in it just now.

“I don’t want to marry Luca Vitale,” I protest with as much vehemence as I can. “I-I don’t even know him!”

The truth is, I used to know Luca Vitale. But that was many years ago when we were children. He was lovely back then, a good friend, probably my first love even though I was so young and naïve.

But then one day, when Luca found out who I truly was, he hurt me, physically and emotionally, and never looked back. I never saw him again after that day in the playground.

Our families have been at war for as long as I can remember. I don’t know much about Luca Vitale other than the fact that his mother died a couple of years after my own mother passed away. I’ve heard stories about him, though. I’ve heard about the cruel and heartless man he became. And I want no part of him or his mafia lifestyle. I don’t want to find out how ruthless he can be.

“I didn’t know your mother before I married her,” my father offers.

I knew about my parents’ arranged marriage. My mother told me about it not too long before she died. I know she loved my father, but I’m sure that took time. And I know she would want me to marry for love, not for convenience or because of someone demanding it.

“Please, Papa, don’t make me do this!” I plead.

“What you want is of no consequence to me, Verona. The wills of the patriarchs of the two families forged this union before they passed away, and there’s no backing out of it now.”

My forehead wrinkles in confusion as I move closer to his desk and see the papers sitting in front of my father. My eyes scan the top few pages, reading as much as I can before my father snatches them away and walks over to a large safe in the corner of the room. After inputting a code that even I’m not privy to, he tucks the papers safely inside before closing it and locking everything away from me.

“The patriarchs of the family decreed this union in their wills.”

Valerius Vitale and Marcello Moretti both died within a couple of weeks of each other. Rivals from when they were children, they never stopped fighting until their dying breath. And now I’m supposed to believe that they wanted Luca and I to marry? That just doesn’t make sense.

“Grandfather would never agree to this,” I say, confused.

“He did. They did. And unless this wedding happens, neither of the families will get any of the inheritance.”

So it all comes down to what always mattered the most to my father — money. If I don’t marry Luca Vitale, then my father gets nothing. He will probably lose everything he owns, because my grandfather was a very powerful man with lots of assets.

“But the Morettis have always hated the Vitales and vice versa,” I tell my father. “Why would they do this?” I ask, my voice just above a whisper.

My father frowns. “I guess their last wish was to have reconciliation once and for all. And with the two of you married, there will be peace between the two families.” He doesn’t seem too pleased about the peace, though.

I open my mouth to plead again with my father, but he silences me with a glare. “Start preparing, Verona. You have a wedding to get ready for.” And with that, he leaves the room.

His departing words are the final nail in my coffin. There will be a wedding. I will marry Luca Vitale whether I want to or not.

All of my life I’ve been told what to do. I’ve never had a say in what I want to do, and I hate the fact that I can’t even choose whom I want to marry. I can only hope that Luca is not as cruel as the rumors make him out to be. If I have to marry him, I will try to make it work. But one question still remains — will our union be consummated in love or violence?