Promised: A Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance, page 1
Promised
A Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance
Mae Doyle
Contents
1. Janele
2. Xavier
3. Janele
4. Xavier
5. Janele
6. Xavier
7. Janele
8. Xavier
9. Janele
10. Xavier
11. Janele
12. Xavier
13. Janele
14. Xavier
15. Janele
16. Xavier
17. Janele
18. Xavier
19. Janele
20. Xavier
21. Xavier
22. Janele
23. Xavier
24. Janele
25. Xavier
26. Janele
27. Xavier
28. Janele
29. Xavier
30. Janele
31. Xavier
32. Janele
Thank you!
This is a work of art/fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events, or places is purely coincidental. Any persons appearing on the cover image for this book are models and do not have any connection to the contents of this story.
All characters depicted in this work are unrelated consenting adults. This author assumes no responsibility for the use/misuse of this material.
© 2021 Mae Doyle
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Janele
Ten years ago I stood in my father’s living room, tight shoes on my feet that squeezed them so badly that I could hardly breathe, wearing a dress that was uncomfortable and itchy.
I wanted to take it off and go play outside. There were few things that I hated more than wearing clothes that didn’t seem to fit right, and being paraded around in front of my dad’s friends was one of them.
Trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, I’d looked up at my dad. He’d been so confident, so sure of what he was doing. He had a daughter, he needed to tie his family to another family.
That family had a son.
It was a match made in heaven.
“Janele, are you listening?” My father’s voice cuts through my thoughts and I look up, my cheeks coloring at the way he says my name. He’s always known how to make me feel small and like I’ve really fucked up.
This is no different.
“Of course I am,” I say, wanting to snap out the words, but instead doing my best to make sure that I don’t sound angry. Not as angry as I am, anyway.
He’s dressed like he always is, in a full suit that’s been perfectly tailored to fit his body. While other men his age have had to had their suits let out, his all still fit.
He spends more time working out than he does with his family, but that’s what’s important to him. That, and making this deal.
It’s fall and there’s a roaring fire in the fireplace behind me. Shifting uncomfortably, I wish that I could go somewhere else — anywhere else. The fire took the chill out of the room, which was the goal of building it, but it also made it unbearably hot.
I roll my head to the side, trying to crack my neck while ignoring the river of sweat that’s slowly creeping its way down my back. I’m supposed to stand here like a doll on display until I’m told I can sit down.
It’s what I’ve always done — exactly what my parents wanted of me.
“You could at least try to smile,” he says, walking away from me. He’s been pacing incessantly since we came downstairs, trying to burn off some of the nervous energy that’s coursing through his body.
“I have nothing to smile about,” I tell him, and that makes him turn on his designer heel and stomp back over to me.
“Nothing to smile about?” He hisses, grabbing my chin and twisting my head so that I have to look at him. “You do realize that this deal is the one thing that will bind us to the Colombo family and keep them from dragging us down, right? You know that you’re the one who will keep our family safe, and you act like you don’t have anything to smile about?”
I don’t want to be used as a pawn in his game to help him regain some of the power he lost after stupid business decisions, but I can’t tell him that, so instead I breathe slowly and look at a spot right over his head.
There’s a huge oil painting hanging there of my mother, who died five years ago. “Would mom have wanted this?” I ask, even though I know that it’s a stupid fucking question.
My dad’s eyes darken. “Your mom was in agreement to the betrothal a decade ago.” I can smell the coffee on his breath and know for a fact that he’ll switch to whiskey as soon as our guests get here.
“Right. But would she agree to it now?”
I don’t know what I’m trying to accomplish, only that I’m going to piss him off if I continue like this. Being betrothed has been all I’ve ever known. I’ve always known that when I got old enough that I’d be married to Xavier Colombo to seal the fate of our two families together.
It doesn’t matter that I don’t want it.
It doesn’t matter that it’s the one thing that has scared me from the time I knew what was going to happen.
I’ve been kept pure. Innocent. Chaste.
They wanted to marry me off when I was sixteen, but decided to wait. I turn eighteen in a week and my birthday party won’t be a huge celebration with my friends.
It will be my wedding. I’ll go from living under my father’s roof, which is where I’ve been my entire life, to living with my husband.
I’ve never met him. I have no idea how kind he is, or how cruel. Even though I don’t want to get married, I’ve often laid awake at night, wondering who he was.
Does he have kind eyes? Could I grow to love him?
My father opens his mouth to say something but before he can tell me how disappointed he is in me, the doorbell rings and he turns away, spinning on his heel to greet them.
When I close my eyes, I can see exactly what’s going to happen. George, our butler, will answer the door. He’ll invite my future husband and father-in-law into the house. I have to meet them, have to try to make a good first impression.
The last thing that I want to do is piss him off before he gets to know me. If I feel this terrible about getting married to someone I don’t know then I have to assume that he feels the same way.
Nobody wants to have their choices stripped from them without any say. Nobody, not even my enemy, will feel good about making someone do something that they do not want to do.
Perhaps he is a kind man. I allow myself a moment of hope before pushing it from my mind. It’s not good to hope for things that may not come true. The only thing that will happen is you’ll get your heart crushed.
I have to assume that this man sees this as a business deal and nothing more. I’ll make him and my father think that I’m willing to live with him, to be his wife.
Of course, nobody knows about the bag I have packed under my bed. My dad doesn’t know that I’ve been saving money ever since I found out what betrothed meant.
I’ll leave tonight if I have to get away from this man.
The loud chimes echo through the house and my heart beats faster.
Xavier
I rest for a moment in my car before getting out and stretching. Tonight’s the night I’m to meet my future wife but I don’t see a reason to rush it. She’ll be mine no matter if I walk through that door in one minute or in ten and I stretch, enjoying the way it feels to release the cramps caught up in my muscles.
My piece rubs against my lower back and I reach back to adjust it before looking over at my father and nodding. We drove here separately so he can sit and carry out business later.
I’m here to check the girl and that’s it. We have to make sure that she’s up to the standards that we were promised, which is why Dr. Grabbard gets out of a third vehicle. He’s a shifty little man who I don’t always trust, but he’s proven his loyalty to the family time and time again, so I have no reason to doubt him.
He’s here for one thing and one thing only, then he can leave, giving me some time with my future wife.
Janele.
I may change her name. It’s not one that I’ve heard before and certainly not one that I think I like, but we’ll see. It may fit her more than I’m thinking.
“Xavier, are you ready?” My father and Dr. Grabbard stand on the front porch, waiting on me. A light rain has started and the two of them scurried to get out of it as quickly as possible. I don’t mind the feeling of the cool drops and I walk slowly to them, running my hand through my thick hair as my father presses the doorbell.
The house towers over us like a behemoth, but it’s not quite as large as ours. The porch is spartan, missing the touch of someone with style, or a woman. My lips curl up into a smirk as we wait.
I haven’t ever met Janele. It wasn’t a chastity thing, because I swore to myself that I wouldn’t touch her before she turned eighteen, but I’ve had better things to do than wait around for a girl to grow into a woman.
I wonder if she knows that she’s half my age.
After a moment the door swings open and a butler, clad in a tuxedo, st
He clutches his doctor bag to his chest like he’s afraid that someone is going to try to take it from him. Hunched over it a little bit, he looks feral, like a wild creature we picked up on the side of the road and stuffed into the car to bring with us.
When my father is gone and I have control I’ll let Dr. Grabbard go. He’s not who I want on my side any longer.
“Victor, welcome to my home!” Danny Lucose strides towards us, his arms flung wide. He’s as tall as my dad although a decade younger, and the two men clasp hands, obviously a little wary. “And this must be Xavier.”
Lucose turns to me and shakes my hand, his eyes sweeping over Dr. Grabbard, but he doesn’t say anything about his presence. He has to know why he’s here. Even though we didn’t discuss bringing him, there’s no way that I’m marrying someone who isn’t a virgin.
“Thank you for having us,” my father says, his voice warm and soft, like he actually likes Lucose. I know for a fact that he doesn’t, that he’d rather stick a knife in his belly than talk to him, but this is how we heal the city.
At least, that’s what I’ve always been told.
Lucose turns and gestures for us to follow. “Janele is in the study. It’s so chilly out that I lit a fire. George,” he says, turning to the butler. “Whiskey.”
The butler nods and scurries away as we walk towards the study. As my father and Lucose talk, I take a moment to look around the house. It was unassuming on the outside, but it’s obvious that Lucose has more money than he lets on.
The marble floor is spotless and gorgeous art hangs on the wall. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling at regular intervals, casting enough light to sparkle off of the floor. The house smells clean, but I can also smell the scent of the fire and I’m glad that we’ll be somewhere a bit warmer.
Even though Lucose is welcoming, his home is chilly. It feels sterile, like it’s used more for show than for family and I remember with a start that his wife died a few years ago.
“Is it just you and Janele here?” I ask suddenly, causing the two men ahead of me to turn to look at me. “Nobody else besides the butler? The chef?”
Lucose looks nervous. “We have a full staff, and Janele has had her own personal maid, but she’s an older woman I vetted a long time ago. Family comes to visit from time to time but never stays for long.”
“Because your house feels dead.” I say the words not only because they’re true but because I want to see the look on his face. He blinks once, like the words stung, but quickly catches himself and nods.
“Grandchildren will help with that.”
It’s bold of him to assume that I’m going to give him any grandchildren. First things first, I need to meet Janele, need to make sure that she’s whole. I never make promises that I’m not willing to keep. “I’m ready to meet my wife,” I tell him, and he nods, turning to walk back down the hall.
My father drops back and grabs my elbow, digging his fingers into my skin. “What the fuck are you doing? This has been set up for over a decade, and you’re to treat Lucose and his daughter with a little more respect.”
“Respect?” I shoot back. “I’m not a teenager any longer, father. Lucose can have my respect when he earns it and after I meet his daughter. I’m not wasting my time on a woman who isn’t perfect.”
“You’ll marry her,” he says, turning to me. The threat had power back when I was younger, but now I just laugh.
“I’ll marry her if I want to,” I tell him, jerking my chin at Dr. Grabbard. “And if he can prove that she’s whole. Please don’t fool yourself into thinking that I’m going to waste my time with a whore.”
My father sighs, his eyes wide, and runs his hand through his hair. “You’re an asshole,” he tells me, leaning close so that Lucose can’t hear what we’re saying. I know that the last thing my dad wants is for him to think that we aren’t united.
“I learned from the best. Who do you think taught me to look out for myself?”
“Family first, Xavier, remember that.” My father spins around before I can say anything else and walks to where Lucose is waiting by a door. The man looks a little worried but does his best to smooth his face as we walk up to him.
“Janele is in here,” he says, directing his comment to me.
I give him a nod. Maybe Lucose is more savvy than I thought. Normally, he’d talk to my father, but there’s a chance he knows that I’m the one who gets to make a decision about whether or not I marry this girl.
Woman. Whatever.
I’m not at all nervous when I walk into the study. I know what I’m going to find there — the person I have to marry. Turning into the room, I first let my eyes slip over the walls, taking in the heavy bookcases, the art, the globe in the corner.
The thick rugs on the floor and the leather furniture are all terribly expensive. Lucose is good at putting on a show, but I want to know who I’m going to marry.
Finally, I look at Janele.
I haven’t seen her since I last saw her standing in a stupid dress and tight shoes, looking for all the world like she wanted to cry. That was the day my father, her father, and I all signed the paperwork to make her mine.
She’d been a little thing, a young child dressed up in her Sunday best, her hair in tight braids down her back. Her eyes had been watery and big as she took everything in and tried to make sense of what was going on.
That little girl is gone.
Janele’s wearing a dress, sure, but this one fits perfectly to her body, showing off all of her curves. Her thick chestnut hair falls in waves down her back and I have the sudden urge to wrap it around my fist and pull her to me. Her eyes aren’t watery like she’s going to cry.
Rather, she’s looking at me like she thinks that she can burn a hole in me. There’s hatred behind her gaze and she narrows her eyes when she looks at me. I can see her tracing her eyes up and down my body and I stand still for a moment, letting her look.
She’s perfect. As long as Dr. Grabbard can prove to us that she hasn’t been a whore, then she’s perfect. I want to be the first one to touch her and claim her for my own.
“Janele.” I say, walking up to her. She stiffens as I get closer and the slight movement causes her perfume to waft around her body. It’s suddenly stronger than the fire behind her and I breathe it in, expecting something light and airy.
It’s not. It’s dark. Musky. Earthy.
“Xavier.” My name on her tongue is delicious to hear and I reach out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to me. She looks up at me in surprise, a bit of fear flashing across her face, but then quickly masks her emotions.
“I think you’ll do perfectly,” I tell her.
Janele
My entire life I’ve grown up hating Xavier Colombo. Even though my dad has told me time and time again that I know him — that I met him when they signed the betrothal paperwork, I don’t remember him.
I’m pretty sure that I would remember him if I’d ever seen him before. He stands a foot taller than me, his strong jaw covered with a bit of stubble that’s undeniably sexy. Xavier has dark eyes that seem to bore into mine as he looks at me as well as a strong nose.
His thick hair falls perfectly around his face, making him look a lot younger than I think that he is. When he reached out and took my wrist, circling it with his fingers, I gasped at the feeling of electricity that shot between the two of us.
If he noticed it, he didn’t say anything.
There’s some rain on his shoulders and I have the sudden urge to brush it off, but I’m scared stiff and unable to move. Behind him I can hear our fathers talking but it almost feels like everything in the world has suddenly shrunk down to the space around us.
