Page 6 of Always Meant To Be

I grimace, hating she's underage, even if it is a year, and nod once. "She didn't see me, but I saw her." I chuckle a little. “She looked like she didn't want to be at the café. After she bought coffees for your guards, and then sat with her head in a book, nothing else mattered to her, including the two mafia men sitting near her."

He sits back, shaking his head. "I fucking knew I shouldn't have allowed your mamma to convince me to encourage Elena to accompany Liliya. That woman always has another agenda, like in high school, when she asked me to send a note to your father."

I chuckle. I know Mamma and Mikhail grew up near each other, and that Papa's marriage was not arranged. He fell for Mamma, and Mikhail helped them with their happily ever after. When a war broke out over a decade ago, it was hard for Mamma to lose her friend.

I guess we can blame Papa's old capo, who killed one of Mikhail's workers at his strip club for fun.

"I would have met her one way or the other," I tell him. He sighs, knowing I’m right, then looks at the table for a moment, and we wait him out. I haven't hidden anything from him. He can see I'll make her mine in any way possible. Now, he just has to choose which way I'm going to have to do it.

We want to stop the war, not continue it.

Grunting, he sits forward and states, "Alright, this is how it’s going to go. Liliya likes to fuck up a lot, and I'm at my wit's end with the child, especially after today. Now, I'm not completelyclueless about what she gets up to. I didn't know about the abortions, but I am aware she's been to the clinic, not twice, but three times." I wince, along with my father. Mikhail nods. "I am also aware that she screwed the Mexican cartel jefe two months ago, when he was drunk, so I can bet the baby was his."

Son of a….

"Ah fuck," my father mutters.

"His wife, Renata, is pissed, and rightly so. She wants Liliya's head, which she knows won't happen, being that she’s my daughter. She settled with a one-million-dollar settlement, as long as Liliya stays clear." Mikhail sits back and states, "You pay the settlement and take over guarding Liliya until you marry Elena, just to give me a fucking break, while I try and find someone willing to marry her. Do that, and I'll allow the marriage, if not, then we'll do the business arrangement. Keep in mind, however, the war will continue if you approach Elena."

I smirk, knowing he means every word, and my father says, "You have a deal, Mikhail. We don't want war, we want an alliance."

Mikhail nods once. "Alright, I'll get a contract written up, but Romeo, you better treat her right. She deserves the world. The wedding will take place when she's nineteen, giving her a chance to get to know you, and give her the first year at college."

I nod back, not liking waiting a year and a half, but agreeing anyway.

I lean forward, stating, "You may want to add the condition that she is to be with child within a year; I want her tied to me always."

Mikhail chuckles. "Sure, but withinfiveyears, and I'll also add she can't divorce you until she's given birth, so if you fuck up, you'll have nine months to make things right." I raise a brow at him, but he shakes his head and admits, "I won't leave my daughter in a loveless marriage, she'sinnocent,Romeo."

He enhances the word innocent, and I read him loud and clear.

I nod and hold my hand out, which he shakes, and I grin.

Ready or not, beauty, you are mine.

One

Elena – Age Nineteen

I lookin the large mirror, taking in my white dress.

It's tight around my breasts, being held up by thick straps, and flares from my upper stomach, hitting the floor with a very long train.

There's no major detail; the fabric is smooth silk, and only a simple butterfly is attached to the satin wrap just under my breasts.

Plain and simple, just like me.

My hair is up in a fancy twist, with some strands curled around my face. My makeup is light, and my jewelry is plain and en pointe.

A silver choker graces my neck, which Romeo bought as a gift on our first meeting. I didn’t want to accept it. The engagement ring feels heavy on my finger despite being quite modest. A piercing blue gemstone sits on a white gold band, with three small diamonds on either side, and several little ones molded around the gem.

It's beautiful, yet my hand feels numb, my finger wanting to fall off.

Today's my wedding day, and instead of giggling and feeling light and happy, I feel like I can't breathe, like all the air is being sucked out of my body.

Two years ago, my father decided to let me in on his plans for me. A man my sister was supposed to marry had been promised to me instead, all because she couldn't keep her panties on.

I can still see the sorrow in his eyes, and yet he made this decision knowing I wanted to leave the mafia life.