Claimed by Her Mafia Man

“You really think you’re the answer to my prayers?”

“Sweetheart, I’m the only answer to your prayers.”

She shook her head, wanting to get up and leave. “I don’t care what you say. I refuse. You can’t make me listen.”

Damon reached out and grabbed her arm. “Let me be real here with you.”

“Get your hand off me.”

“Don’t cause a scene. You think the Family won’t know of a secret meeting if we fight?”

She gritted her teeth, wanting nothing more than to storm out. Lowering back into her seat, she waited.

“The men in our lives don’t accept a woman taking charge. Any person you marry will put you in your place. You think the men are not above beating you, breaking you?”

She glared at him. “I’m very much aware of what our men are capable of.” She’d seen firsthand what they all could do. The pain they caused.

“Then you know that if you marry the wrong man, your skills will be brought into control.”

“Do you really think I’ll be easily controlled?” She was insulted by the mere insinuation that she couldn’t take care of herself.

“If you can’t be controlled, then they’d kill you. A woman who is trouble is easily taken care of.”

She stared at him. “That would be a betrayal of the highest order.”

“Betrayal or not, are you that naïve to even think all the men in our lives play by the rules? Look at your father. He never remarried and he trained his daughter to take over from him. To a lot of men, he should have been stripped of his title.”

“What are you trying to tell me?” she asked. This conversation was too much. She wanted out of it.

“As my wife, I won’t allow any pain to come to you. I’ll expect you to be by my side and only in social settings in front of the Family will you even begin to look submissive, but you will be part of every single decision.”

“You expect me to believe you?”

“I don’t want a tame slave who will do as she’s told, Isabella. I want a woman who can give as good as she gets. No one else will offer you this.”

****

Later that night, Damon poured himself a large brandy. He was more of a whiskey drinker but seeing as he was staying in his father’s house, which was closer to Isabella’s, he would do with the substandard liquor on offer.

He sniffed the amber liquid and scrunched up his nose as he swallowed it down in one gulp. Disgusting.

“You don’t have good taste, my son,” his father, Damon Romano Sr., said. All the men gave their sons their name. It was a family tradition, one he didn’t wish to share with his own son.

“You no longer have the stomach for good stuff,” he said, turning to his father. “Am I to assume the meeting went well today?”

His father was one of the men within the Family who believed firmly in tradition. A woman’s place was by his side, in his bed, spitting out babies. They were entertainment and not capable of thinking for themselves.

Damon didn’t hold the same views. Rather shocking considering he was close to his father, but he also got to see a great deal of the men and women who worked for them. He’d watched the families who were close, the love and respect some of the men had for their wives.

Adele, their cook, her husband had been their groundskeeper, and the man had been completely besotted with his wife. There had been no mistresses in their lives. His father had two of them, one of which lived in the house.

“Went well? You could say that. It has been decided the only course with the Drago woman is to marry her. Three other men have been chosen. They will all come forward with a deal for the Boss. Only he will decide who gets her hand in marriage, unless of course Philip’s final wishes are discovered.”

Damon stared at his father. “Am I to assume you considered me for this offer?”

“I did consider it, yes, but I wonder what your intentions are. Would you like to marry the Drago girl? She’s cold and well, you don’t exactly have the best reputation for keeping a woman alive.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t give her to me to begin with.”

“Ah, your little curse that follows you around. Look, son, if the Family wanted her dead, they’d see to it. You know that.” His father smiled at him. “I’ve got business to attend to. What was so important you missed today’s meeting?”

“The usual.”

“Ah, I see. You and your mysteries. Well, I know you can take care of yourself.” His father slapped him on the back. There was no pain. His father had punished him many times growing up. Every single hit, punch, or break had turned him into this man. The monster.