__________
I ain't letting up until the day I die.
__________
This can't be happening.
He promised me!
No, I can't do this. Fuck, he can't do this.
I can't fucking handle this, not right now.
"Look, M, I'm sorry, alright? I know I said I won't let this happen. I know that Pa wanted you to do this, but I promised you that this wouldn't happen. I'm sorry, so sorry. But our father signed you off. He promised that asshole that he'll engage you to his son the year you turn twenty-two," Jai Ajmera, my elder mafia-boss brother, says, having a staring contest with the floor.
"You know how Sam's like, right? You know he will never treat me as his equal, let alone lovingly. I can't-- I can't do this, right now, bhaiya, I'm sorry. I haven't even turned 22 yet! I know this is out of your hands, I can't blame you for this, but I need to process and digest being engaged to some dick who probably can't sign his own name," I remark, going up to him and kissing his cheek. He gives me a sad smile and hugs me, stroking my head.
(Bhaiya is what you call your elder brother in Hindi)
"I love you so much, little sister. I am so sorry. I tried to negotiate with them, offering them money, ports, whatever they would like. They said that they wouldn't compromise, and told me that they would declare war if I refuse to give you away," he says, choking on tears.
"Bhaiya...", I look up at him, wiping his tears away with my thumbs. I give him a bear hug, squeezing him tightly, "It's not your fault, I know what Pa did, he loved us both, but he loved his power more. It's not your fault, I will never blame you, so don't blame yourself. I just need some time, you know? Before I go sign my life away," I say, chuckling, "it's okay, I knew what it would mean to be the daughter of the mafia, I'm surprised he didn't give me away sooner," I laugh again, stepping away from my brother. "I'll be down for lunch in an hour, I promise," I say, going up to my room.
Okay, before things get really confusing...
I am the sister of the head of the Indian mafia. Not Indian, as in based in India, but Indian as in headed by an Indian. Now that comes with a lot of responsibilities, for which you need to form alliances.
What's a better alliance than marrying off your only daughter, right?
So, my father promised my hand to a childhood fr- no, acquaintance, Samuel Crews, the son of some other crime syndicate head. I could care less.
The thing is, he's the straight-up definition of a dickhole. He loves the idea of fucking me senseless, as he says, and how he can't wait to call me his own.
So, you understand why I am screaming my buried head off, right now...right? I want to get out of this hellhole; I wish I was never born in the mafia.
I am normal, otherwise. I know nothing about what goes on in the mafia, and I would love for it to stay that way. Jai handles all the operations with the help of my father's advisor, Gupta. He's an old softie (for me, at least), but when he was there in my training, he turned into the cruelest man ever. My brother's right-hand man is Ahaan, who's a straight-up hottie, and has a crush on me. I know that because he tells me that all the time. Though A's four years elder to me, he's my best friend, after Sara, of course.
Sara Mehra, the little sister of Ahaan. The siblings are both eye candies, and it gets really frustrating to be surrounded by the sexy guy. But I would never cross that line, especially when his sister is my best friend. With my hand-in-marriage with Sam, I can't get attached to anyone.
And I haven't gotten into a relationship with anyone in the last 21 years of my life. Seems unrealistic when you are me, but it's true. Now, without having loved anyone, I will be forced to marry someone I detest with a passion, and I can't do anything about it.
After letting loose a flood of tears, I make my way into the dining room, and find Sara and Jai there, talking. Sara's eyes are welled up, and she seems angry.
Really angry.
I quietly turn on my heels, uninterested in being a part of their drama, and try to take off.
"'Myra!" Sara greets, her voice raspy. I really wanted to get out.
"Hi, Sara," I say timidly, looking at her with suspicious eyes. She pounces on me, enveloping me in a hug, her sobs echoing near my ear as her tears soak my shirt.
"What the hell?! What's wrong, Sara? What the fuck did you do, Jai? Why is my best friend sobbing on my shoulder?!" I ask him furiously, stroking Sara's hair. She sniffles, pulling back. Her eyes are red and puffy, and she kisses my forehead.
"I'm so sorry, Amyra," she murmurs, hugging me again.
He told her?! He fucking told her?!?
I glare at my brother with my scariest eyes, and he takes a step back. I pat Sara's back, taking a step away from her.
"Did Jai tell you that my engagement's next week?" I ask her, and she looks at me, "No, of course not..." I raise my eyes in question.
"I heard it when I was spying on Ahaan, and I looked at you guys, and I eavesdropped, and now I know that Sam's your future husband," she says, nonchalantly. I look at her like she has three heads. After five seconds of staring, I shrug.
"I was going to tell you anyway," I tell her, sidestepping her and sitting on the dining table, "so! What's for lunch?"
********
It's been a goddamn week.
In that week, Sara, Ahaan, Jai, and I cried, laughed, reminisced, and planned the murder of Sam. Not literally, but sure, we fantasized. I spent a day with Sam, too, on the much insistence of his father.
"I told you, didn't I?" Sam said, out of the blue, as soon as the waitress left us with our food.
"What, Sam?" I ask him, exasperated and bored out of my mind.
"I told you that I would have you. Believe me, the day I marry you, you will scream my name all night, begging me to not stop. Are you still a virgin for me, Amy?" he pauses, saying my name in the worst way possible. I glare at him, refusing to answer his absurd question. "Even if you're not, I'm sure you would..."
"Shut up, Sam!" I tell him, rolling my eyes. He grips my wrist too tightly, leaving bruises. At least, they won't be too visible on my dark skin. I try to release my hand from his grip, but he tightens it further. Controlling myself from knocking him out, I take a deep breath, "Leave my hand, Samuel," I grit my teeth, my anger teetering at the edge.
"Never should you disrespect me. Don't roll your eyes at me, whore," he says, lowly, releasing my hand. If this was anyone but Samuel Crews, his wrist would be broken at an odd angle. But not Mr. Crews son, not if I want my brother's business to flourish. Tears threaten to well up in my eyes, but I force them back down. Is this what I would suffer from for the rest of my life?
Marriage with someone who sees me as a sex toy, and nothing else?
Tears fall from my eyes as I stop reminiscing. It's my engagement this evening, and after today, Samuel will have a right on me, making it infinitely difficult for me to ever be myself again.
Author's Note
I'm here! This story's off to a start, and I really hope you guys like it so far! The Epigraph poem was written by , so, thank you so much, girrrlllll!
And the POV stands for 'Myra (M) which is what people end up calling Amyra.
Show some love to the little star, and follow me!
So, QOTD: Have you read "Before I Escape" yet? If not, it's complete and waiting for ya! Give it some love!
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HIS AFTERGLOW - A Mafia Fiction
Romance"I'll going to have that attitude beaten right out of you, kitten," he seethes, pulling Amyra's body flush against his chest, "and then, you would be begging me for mercy," he whispers lowly. . . . "Antony?" Amyra asks in a questioning tone...