Shattered Vendetta

A Twisted Game Chapter 4

Amara:

I sat alone at the bar, the rich aroma of Sangiovese filling my senses as I sipped the crimson liquid, trying to find solace in its velvety embrace. Taking another sip of my wine I looked at my parents who were busy in a conversation with Natasha, my cousin. She is almost three months pregnant and she is only 23. I'm not judging her but it's just when we were kids she used to always talk about how she wanted to be a part of the mafia and take on her father's position but now she is married and is having a kid. I suppose it's just me who is stuck in the past but that doesn't mean I'll stop.  

A man, strikingly handsome with an air of mystery, took the seat next to me. His mere presence sent shivers down my spine, for I recognized him all too well. His amber eyes, the lips, the small cut right above his chiseled jawline. I have seen him. I recognise him. It is almost like he has been a part of my life for way too long already.

My grip tightened around the stem of the wine glass as I fought the urge to draw my hidden knife and slice his throat open, stab him till the pain disappears, Rip his heart out with my bare hands and toss it down in front of everyone. 

Summoning every ounce of courage, I broke the silence that enveloped us. "Leo Moretti," I spoke his name.

He glanced at me, his gaze icy and indifferent, as if my existence barely registered on his radar. The dismissal in his eyes stoked the embers of my anger, but I remained determined to engage him.

Unfazed by his initial coldness, I pressed on. "Quite a choice of drink," I remarked, attempting to break through the barriers he had erected around himself. Taking yet another sip of my wine I crossed one of my legs over the other and spun my chair so I am facing him.

His attention shifted slightly, acknowledging my words, but his response was curt and devoid of any warmth. "Just a preference," he replied, his voice as dry as the desert wind. A smirk made its way to my lips I started tracing my fingers on the rim of my wine glass.

Not looking at him I asked, "What brings you here?" He paused for a moment, seemingly contemplating his answer. "I was invited," he replied.

As the minutes stretched into what felt like hours, a flicker of curiosity danced in his eyes, a spark of interest reached his eyes. There were no words exchanged after that but eyes speak, his eyes were roaming all over my face. From my eyes to my lips, my hair, lashes.

But that was abruptly interrupted by the arrival of my parents. My mother's voice cut through the air, her tone filled with warmth.

I turned my attention away from Leo, slipping back into the role of the obedient daughter.

As I stole one last glance at Leo, a sense of grim determination settled within me. He had no idea who I truly was, He saw me simply as the daughter of Luca Romano, unaware of the tempest that churned in my veins. I rose from my seat, my black gown cascading around me.

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A chilling realization washed over me as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. The first suitor, the one my parents insisted I speak to at the family gathering, was none other than Leo Moretti himself. It was a twisted game orchestrated by fate, a cruel joke.

My mother's words cut through the air like a dagger. "Amara, I want you to meet Leo," she announced, her voice laced with both anticipation and a hint of apprehension.

I maintained my composure as I extended a polite greeting to Leo. But behind my pleasant smile, there was a desire to kill.

Leo acknowledged my presence with a mere nod. It was evident that our encounter held little significance to him, a mere formality in the pursuit of upholding his family's traditions.

"We will leave the two of you alone." My Mom spoke, her eyes giving me a look which said 'Don't mess up or play any tricks.' I merely nodded at my mother. Soon my Father and my Mom left leaving me all alone with the person who was the reason they lost their youngest daughter and their eldest daughter's soul. The very reason for our family to break apart and they wanted me to live with him, be his wife, take his last name and have his kids. If only they knew. If only they knew that he is not who he actually is. If only they knew the truth.

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"Refuse to the marriage." My eyes shot up to him surprise visible in my eyes. His eyes were now fixed on me waiting for my response. My eyes were tracking his every movement from his hands going into his pockets to his eyes shifting from me to his and my family who were just across the room engrossed in a conversation. 

"Do you want to go outside and talk?" His eyes found mine, brows raised. I know what I have to do. Even though I know this will ruin most of the hard work done by Aunt Zoya and me but I can't let this opportunity slide.

He didn't reply to my question instead he started walking towards the main grand door. I just stood there watching as he walks away but right when I was about to call his name out, he looked at me from over his shoulder and pointed towards the door with his eyes. I followed him out, we were both now standing in front of a garden. The rain was still slightly pouring. A gush of wind blows causing me to shiver even when I didn't want to. The wind blew my hair backwards exposing my collarbone and the diamond necklace which was being covered due to my hair. His eyes were now not on my face but on my neck and collarbone which was very well visible. I cleared my throat but his eyes were still on my collarbone and then...he took long strides towards me. I didn't move from my place, I was tempted to back away but the warmth from his body made me stand right where I was. His hands were now on my hair and before I knew it, he spun me around making my back face him, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and tossed it to my side. The dress I was wearing is a low back, meaning, almost my entire back was visible to him and I just stood there frozen. 

"A tattoo." His fingers followed the pattern of the ink on the back of my neck. The tattoo. The Celtic Knot. The tattoo I got in memory of Kiara. The tattoo symbolises sisterhood. We had promised each other once she is old enough to get a tattoo we would get a matching one. We would get the Celtic Knot and now the man responsible for the knot to be broken was the one touching my end of the knot.

I took a few steps forward spinning back to face him. My furious eyes meet his calm ones. 

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice filled with anger and disgust. He is the same man whose hands had my sister's blood on them and now those hands were on me.

"You will say no to the marriage." His voice was filled with venom.

"I won't say no," I whispered, my voice laced with defiance. In a swift of a motion I was pinned against a wall, his hands firm on my bare shoulders, his grip tightening around them, face inches away, body pressed against mine. I wanted to push him off again but I couldn't I just stood there. Once again frozen.

"You will say no, Amara." I wanted to grab my knife from my purse and slice his throat, the way my name left his lips was something which made me feel so uncomfortable and disgusted. My name coming out from his mouth only sent shivers down my spine. The way he said it was different. Commanding. Demanding. Whatever it was it only made me hate him more.

Leo's gaze locked with mine, "I'll think about it, Mr Moretti but be ready to call me your future wife real soon."

With a final flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, Leo released his grip and stepped back. The tension in the air lingered. A smirk on his lips as he licked it away and his expression was back to neutral. Unreadable. Something I couldn't decipher.

I straightened my attire, Leo Moretti, the man who had taken so much from me, now stood right in front of me and all I could do was wait.

The game had just begun, and I would play my part. I chose this life and I will own it.

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