Bound by Blood and Belief: A Mafia Series; 1

Defiance

Hana's pov

Who does he think he is - I will never agree to marry that maniac but the list of the things he would do if I didn't agree made my blood boil.  16 hours was all I had left or the worse would happen; I couldn't eat nor sleep but one thing that did put my mind at ease was praying to Allah. I trace the intricate patterns of the prayer rug, my fingers trembling (to which I had asked Maria to get me one). It took her forever to find one in Sicily so she had to order it internationally. The soft wool was a flimsy shield against the storm brewing inside me. He wanted me, a simple girl from a modest family, to be his bride. A grotesque joke, a twisted bargain for my father's theft. An act of violence veiled in tradition.

My mind raced, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Fear, the most potent, gnawed at me, a constant icy presence. But alongside it, a fierce, burgeoning anger. how dare he? How dare he dictate my life, reduce me to a pawn in his cruel game?

I thought of my family, my mother's gentle eyes, my brother's playful jokes and my father's....well,  I can't even remember any more. Was I truly capable of such a sacrifice? To become the wife of a man whose very name whispered of bloodshed and betrayal? To leave behind the life I knew, the modest comfort of MY faith, the simple joys that defined my existence?

The Quran, my constant companion, lay open in my hands, its verses a soothing balm to my troubled soul. But even its comforting words seemed to offer little solace. Was this a test of my faith? A trial I was destined to endure? Doubt, like a venomous serpent, slithered into my heart, whispering insidious suggestions of surrender, of accepting the inevitable.

I stood up, my limbs weak, and walked to the window. The Roman sky, usually a canvas of vibrant hues, seemed muted, mirroring the greyness in my heart. I gazed at the bustling streets below, a world that felt both familiar and alien. Would I  ever know the simple joys of a life lived freely, unrestrained by fear and coercion?

Fifteen more hours. The clock in the hallway ticked relentlessly, each second a hammer blow to my soul. I knew, deep down, that my decision would forever alter the trajectory of my life. It was a choice between survival and surrender, between my faith and my family's safety.

I sank to my knees, the prayer rug a comforting embrace. I closed my eyes, my lips moving in silent supplication, seeking guidance from the only source she truly trusted. In that moment of profound vulnerability, I found a sliver of resolve, a flicker of defiance. I wouldn't simply accept her fate. She would fight, even if it meant facing the darkness alone.

My decision, however painful, and terrifying, would be mine. And in my heart, a fragile hope bloomed - the hope for a future, however uncertain, that was truly her own.

12 hours. 

My heart, a trapped bird fluttering against my ribs, stood before Antonio, the man whose mere name sent shivers down the spines of Naples. Thirty hours. Thirty hours of agonizing contemplation, of whispered prayers to Allah, and a slow, painful acceptance of the terrifying reality of my situation. Yet, within that vulnerability, a seed of defiance had sprouted.

I met his gaze, a storm of dark emotions swirling in the depths of his eyes. "Antonio," her voice was barely a whisper, but firm. "I cannot marry you."

A muscle in his jaw tightened, the charming facade he so effortlessly donned crumbling like ancient plaster. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, predatory gleam. "Hana," he hissed, his voice a low growl, "you misunderstand. You have no choice. You are mine now."

"I do have a choice," Hana said, my voice gaining strength with each word. "And my choice is no."

A cruel smile stretched across Antonio's face, a smile that promised pain and retribution. "You dare defy me? A little bird like you, challenging a lion? You will regret this, Hana. You will regret it deeply."

"Then let me bear the consequences," Hana said, my voice unwavering. "I will not be forced into a marriage I do not want. I will not be a possession."

Antonio slammed his fist on the table, the sound echoing through the luxurious room. Glasses rattled, and the air crackled with tension. "You are nothing but a pawn in my game, little girl. And pawns don't get to make choices."

"I am not a pawn," I retorted, my eyes blazing with a fire that surprised even herself. "I am Hana and I will not be silenced. I will not be broken."

A vein throbbed in his temple, a testament to his growing rage. "You are pushing me, Hana. You are pushing me very far."

"Then push me," she said, holding his gaze without flinching. "Push me until you break yourself trying. My spirit will never be yours to command."

The fury in his eyes threatened to consume me but I stood my ground. I had faced the darkness within me, had wrestled with my fear, and found a strength I never knew I possessed. This was my life, my future, and I would not give it up without a fight. I had nothing left to lose except my dignity and that, I would protect with my very breath.

"Then I just have to break you," he snarled, his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger.

Before I could react, his hand shot out, a vice-like grip on her hijab. The rough fabric tore against her scalp as he yanked her head back, his icy breath fanning over her face. A yelp escaped my lips, a mixture of pain and terror.

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