Fall For Him - chapter 1

Synopsis: "You have to tell me everything," he said and released my hand. Stupid man, he did that on purpose. "You have no power over me. I don't owe you shit," before I could say anything more, he pinned me onto the bed and wrapped his other hand around my neck. "Are you sure about that?" he asked and I tried to move away from him but he draped his left leg over my right leg and squeezed a bit harder on my pipes. Without thinking about anything, I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer to me. ************************************* Willow gets married to the third top mafia leader from Roseedge. She had her reasons for agreeing to the marriage. The top one was for something that her father, the American-Italian mafia leader couldn't provide her with. Protection. She didn't expect to fall in love with the mafia leader, who is leading the third party. No one did. But then the word love gets thrown around in her life. What happens when she starts to have target after target on her back? Will her husband protect her, or will he let her fend for herself?

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Willows POV

“You will have to get married to Sean in two months,” that's my stepfather. He literally hates me to the core. Ever since he got married to my mom and I learned about what he does for a living he has been hell-bent on sending me away from here.

“He is the third most powerful mafia leader,” his daughter, Kimberly, said and I smiled at her even though it was not real. I've wished to kill this girl ever since I came to this house, she hates me, and I hate her there is no way forward for me and her apart from death.

“And he is looking for a trophy wife,” my so-called father repeated for the 20th time. He had told me that since the man said he wanted a trophy wife.

“Isn't that what all mafia men want?” I asked about raising an eyebrow and my stepfather scoffed.

“The top ones only. My mafia is the second most powerful one so when I looked for a trophy wife, it was normal. It is unusual when a low-rank leader wants a trophy wife, he's not attending fancy parties.”

“So, my future husband's mafia is the third best?” I asked and he nodded his head as if he was proud.

“I was just telling you so that you could be ready in two months,” he said, and I rolled my eyes getting up from the chair, I walked to my bedroom and then threw myself on the bed.

My name is Willow Giovanna. My father was half Italian, and my mother is American. She is only married for money, as long as she does her hair daily and gets her nails done weekly. She doesn't care. I'm 17. Almost 18. I'll be 18 next week. On the 4th of March, my mom forgot about my birthday. I bet 1,000,000 bucks on that. My dad taught me all I needed to know to survive on my own. He taught me how to assassinate, He taught me how to do bank fraud, blackmailing, and intimidating witnesses. My mom doesn't know this though. Dad would spend time with me and teach me all I need to know. It started with pickpocketing classes.  My Mom had been married to Steven for maybe a year and a half. My dad died three years ago. He was jailed for murder and got killed while on the inside. I still remembered the last word he said to me before going to jail.

“Dodge bullets like you are a ballet dancer, surprise them with your cold blood killing skills. Stay strong and don't let anyone f**k you up. If they do, then decorate their foreheads with a shiny bullet. Remember.”

I was there when they threw him inside the police van. I wasn't yelling like other kids would, running after the police van yelling ‘bring him back’. He made his bed; he was ought to lay in it.

My birthday is in next week. End my wedding.  is in two months. How. perfect. Not. 

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Willows POV

The time for my wedding is near, a month and two weeks. I haven't celebrated my birthday like every other year for the last three years. But I did something that benefits me.

I used to celebrate my birthdays with my father ever since I turned 10. When I turned 11, my mother was always out clubbing or drug dealing. She was a drug addict back in the day. Dad loved her but she loved the money more. I wouldn't be shocked to learn that she was the one who made dad a thief so she could change her hair every single day. She never had a bad hair day since she changed her weaves like she changed her undergarments.

I got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. I still don't believe that my mother would marry me off when I am eighteen years and a week old.

I haven't enjoyed my life just yet. But I'm still going to be someone's trophy wife. My life sucks to the bone, doesn't it?

I took a shower, brushed my teeth, dried myself off, put on my undergarments, and went back to my bedroom.

I left my hair as it was still damp from the shower. I sighed and walked to my closet. I picked my long-sleeved crop top and a pair of black high-waist jeans. I put on my red ankle boots. I took my bag, walked out of my room, and headed downstairs, with my hand messing with my hair.

I got to the kitchen and found a huge man in our fridge.

“Can I help you?” I asked, and he turned to me with a raised eyebrow. He looked me up and down before shaking his head and turning back to the fridge. He took the good polony and bid into it with his teeth. Gosh, ewe. I love that polony! I walked out of the house and to my car.

My sweet, sweet, precious, cute baby. I drive the black Bugatti Veyron 16.4 Sang Noir. It was a gift from my dad when I turned 15. And yes, I know, with the money he stole. I drove to the only place I get peace that everyone hates, school.

Our school is not that far. 15-minute drive but nine to ten if you are ruthless. I arrived and found myself in an empty spot. I parked before walking to my class.

In history, the teacher was talking about Paleoindians.

Next class, chemistry. We were doing organic chemistry, which I was ahead of so I had time to zone out and think about fun stuff like shooting someone or maybe robbing a bank.

In math, I had to focus so hard because it hit me to the grave and back.

Then lunch. Do you understand why I like school? Not because we're getting lectured hour in and hour out. But because I get to be free from my mother, free from Kimberly, even though I see her almost all the time as she's in some of my classes, I am free from Steven.

I get to do what I want when I'm here. I could bunk classes, but then I would go and rob the bank for fun. Then do what with the money? Throw it around. And that's not wise.

There are new boys in school. They look hot but I wouldn't waste my time going after them. They look like f**k boys. As usual, the school who**s were already after them. Kimberly and her minions were there too.

I go unnoticed since I'm invisible but I'm not a nerd, I wouldn't consider myself popular. Let's just say I am a normal schoolgirl who likes to keep her things to herself. Even though I'm anything but normal.

After school, I was not ready to go home and face my stupid family, so I went for a drive.

What if my future husband is ugly? No one has ever seen him. No one knows him. Not even Google. I tried searching for him online but never got an image.

I drove to the small ice cream shop that I used to go to with Dad. Everyone turned to me when the bell made this stupid noise indicating another customer. I walked to the counter and looked at the old lady.

“Hola, puedo obtender savor a chocolate en una taza, por favor?” I asked nicely, and she nodded with a small smile on her face. I don't mean to be disrespectful or mean but how come she has been in New York for all this time but still can't speak English?

“Enjoy,” the lady said in her weak English, pushing the ice cream toward me. I nodded, and she left. I walked to the table and slowly started eating my ice cream to pass time. And make it go faster. If that is possible. I wish I could get home after dinner, but I won't have enough time to write all my homework. That's what I dread about each following day, homework that I can't finish because Kimberly annoyed the hell out of me.

I was about to take another bite of my ice cream when a beggar sat in front of me. He was good-looking, even though he looked a little dirty. You and I have different meanings of good-looking, so please don't judge me. He smiled at me, showing his yellow teeth and I smiled back at him.

“You want some?” I asked, raising my cup, and he shook his head.

“I don't eat chocolate,” he replied, and I looked at my cup before my eyes traveled toward him. And here I thought beggars can't be choosers.

“Okay,” I said awkwardly and finished my ice cream. When I was about to stand up, the old lady came to my table with the huge ice cream. It was an extra large cup. She handed it to the guy who was sitting in front of me. I shrugged and went to pay before leaving the shop and going to my car.

I drove slowly until I reached home by five in the evening. There were cars in our driveway. I had to park on the street.

I walked to the door and counted to five before actually opening it. I walked in and all eyes turned to me. There were men in black everywhere.

One was standing in front of Steven, one had a grip on Kimberly's wrist, one was standing in front of mom, two were sitting on the couch opposite Steven and mom's, while another one was standing on the door that leads to the kitchen.

“Then she finally decides to show up,” Steven said, relief feeling his voice. Mom also sighed in relief while the other guy let go of Kimberly's wrist.

“Where have you been?” mom asked with her voice full of attitude and I crossed my arms over my chest in a challenging manner.

“I don't think I'm here to take a quiz,” I stated, and she scoffed before looking at Steven.

“Tell her,” she said to Steven, and I rolled my eyes.