Contract Marriage: Taming My Mafia Heir Husband

By Luigi Salvatore

“Brother, it's time. We have to go to church, the mass is about to begin.”

The thick voice of Paolo, one of my twin brothers, sounded in the office, but I remained on my back, staring at the huge picture painted with the images of my parents.

“How is our security?”

“All in place. Tony personally took care of security.”

“Where is Guido?” I asked, referring to my trusted man.

“In the room waiting for us. You know, he would never give up personally accompanying you to the church.”

Exactly seven days ago, my parents had suffered an attempt on their lives without even having the chance to fight for them. All it took was for my father to turn the key to start the car and then it exploded, right before my eyes with nothing that could be done. That day we had arranged to meet in the shed where I was responsible for executing a famiglia mission. As agreed, we met and did what had to be done, and then said goodbye with the usual brotherly hug. Not knowing that this would be our last embrace, my mother pressed me against her body and left a tender kiss on my forehead. The first to get into the car was her, then my father, and then it happened.

However, what was bitter to my soul was knowing that apparently the intended victim in that attack was me, the first-born son of Enzo Salvatore and Kira Goncharov Salvatore. We all had an internal rule of thumb to change cars frequently, as this would make any ambush of which we were victims more difficult. However, everyone knew that among the many cars parked in our garage, my passion was always the sports car that my mother gave to me soon after I went through the initiation process to become an effective member of the famiglia. But as fate would have it, when I went out to receive the goods that would arrive at the port, I ended up changing cars with Dad that day, and now here I was, precociously being forced to take possession of the place that had been waiting for me since the day I was born, but not only that, I also had the weight of guilt on my back as I felt the ashes of my parents running through my fingers.

“So what are we waiting for? Let's go! After mass we have some scoundrels hunting around.” I murmured coolly and with steady steps left the office previously occupied by my father.

While the car took me to the church where the seventh day mass was to be held in honor of my parents, I remembered everything I had learned from them. I also remembered the promise I made a few days ago when I mourned what was left of their charred bodies. No matter what, this story was just beginning. I would get revenge on the bastard who had taken them from us, whether he was male or female, I would make them beg to die.

I had two twin brothers, Eduardo and Paolo, who, by the way, like my father, could easily extract the most frightening confessions from the scariest men. The truth is that Eduardo and Paolo were the faithful copy of the feared Enzo Salvatore, not only in the methods of conducting his activities, but unlike me who was very similar to my mother, the twins were physically similar to our father.

Although my veins also had Russian blood from my mother, it was the Italian characteristics that stood out in my personality, and I was happy about this, considering that for some unknown reason, I never liked my Russian relatives, especially my aunt Kenya Goncharov, heir to the Russian command after her brother's death thirty-five years ago. Everyone in our midst attributed to her the characteristic of being of dubious character. In fact, without my knowing why, the truth is that even my own mother disowned the blood of the Russian family. That was a forbidden subject in our house. Mom never told us why, after being forced to marry my father, she never again had a relationship with her own family.

When we arrived at the chapel where the mass was to be celebrated in honor of my parents, Paolo went to meet Eduardo, who was standing next to our first cousin and our Uncle Dario, now the last living Salvatore of past generations. The older man's expression was indecipherable, but perhaps, like me, he too wished to drink the blood of the one responsible for our pain. For her part, my cousin had an unreadable expression on her face with thin, dark features. Anyone who looked at Giovanna would not say that the woman had been adopted by my uncle when she was only eight years old, after all, her features were truly familiar compared to mine, starting with her blue eyes, which were as similar to mine as they were to my mother's.

Unlike Paolo, I stayed by Guido's side, my right-hand man and best friend since the day we bumped into each other at one of the few parties I attended as a teenager. On that occasion, Guido saved me from an ambush set by the Irish who wanted at all costs to get at our goods routes. My father was grateful to the brave boy with mysterious expressions and blue eyes, and of course, realizing his abilities, as well as his needs, he soon offered him a job. Since then, Guido and I have become almost blood brothers, and it didn't take long for him to gain my trust.

I looked around and noticed that our men were all in place. Of course in disguise, but always on the lookout. We maintained our legal activities that served as an escape route to justify the origin of our fortune, as well as to mislead the local authorities. Therefore, for everyone who belonged to the business world, my parents' accident would have been a sad fatality. However, all the members of the famiglia knew that in fact my parents had been the victims of a cruel and cowardly ambush the likes of which the Italian Mafia had not seen for a long time. Why now? Why an attack on the heir? That's what everyone was asking themselves.

“He is so powerful.” I heard a girl sigh at the same moment I passed her as I entered the church.

“Powerful and beautiful! But don't get excited. He doesn't look at any woman.” Another one answered hopelessly.

“It seems that no woman is good enough to attract the attention of the mighty Luigi Salvatore.”

I rolled my eyes impatiently at this conversation. How was it possible that, while our family members were suffering an irreparable loss, they kept on with this banal talk about shallow women? I turned to the three of them, and from the embarrassed and frightened looks on each of their faces, I had no doubt that my countenance was not the friendliest.

“Not just looks, my dear. None of you are really good for me.” I muttered without any remorse for the humiliation I was putting them through. “Now listen carefully to what I'm about to say. If you are not here to respect the family's painful moment, I suggest that you leave, or I will personally send my security guards to see that you leave.”

I turned and walked slowly back towards my family, but still had to endure Guido's unfortunate little jokes.

“You are cruel to them, do you know that? What's wrong with them lusting after you?”

“You say that because you are a womanizing scoundrel.” I hissed. “Besides, you don't have to put up with certain kinds of inconvenience. Do I look like a shop-window mannequin wearing a fashionable outfit to be lusted after?”

Deep down, I knew that none of this was anything more than an interest in my money and all the comforts that the Salvatore surname could guarantee. Women only think about money and comfort.

“I wish I could get these mermaids into my net as easily as you can get them into yours, my friend. It's a waste to dismiss them.” I didn't have to say a word, I just looked at Guido, who raised his hand in redemption. “It's okay, I get it. I'm sorry! Let's sit down.”