The Contract Bride: The Mafia King

The rain wouldn't stop.

Aria pressed her small body against the staircase railing, her fingers wrapped tightly around the cold metal bars. The storm outside rattled the windows like it wanted to break in, and each crack of thunder made her jump. But the storm inside the house was worse.

Her mother's footsteps echoed from the living room below. Back and forth. Back and forth. Aria knew that rhythm. It meant Mama was waiting for Papa to come home, and that meant something bad was going to happen.

She should be in bed. She knew that. But she couldn't sleep. Not when Mama was crying.

Aria was eleven years old, but she understood things that other children didn't. She understood that when Papa stayed out late, he came home angry. She understood that when he came home angry, Mama got hurt. She understood that the nice lady who sometimes came to the house with Papa wasn't just a friend.

The headlights of a car swept across the driveway, and Aria's stomach clenched.

"Mama, he's here!" she whispered, but the rain swallowed her voice.

Downstairs, she heard her mother rush to the door. Aria peeked through the railing and saw Mama wipe her eyes with the back of her hand, then stretch her lips into a smile that looked like it hurt.

The door opened. Papa walked in, and he wasn't alone.

The woman on his arm was beautiful in a way that made Aria feel strange. She wore a red dress that clung to her body and a perfume that reached all the way up the stairs. Her hair was perfect. Her smile was perfect. Everything about her was perfect.

Except for the way she looked at Mama. Like Mama was dirt on her shoe.

"Welcome home, dear," Mama said. Her voice shook. "Who is this? Is everything alright?"

Papa sneered. "Everything is fine. Can't a man have a little fun?"

Aria watched her mother's face fall. The fake smile crumbled, and something raw and wounded appeared in its place.

"Please don't hurt me," Mama begged. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Papa's face twisted. "You're always so worried about me. It's pathetic. I hate that you even think about me. You don't deserve me. Get out of my way."

He pushed past her. The beautiful woman laughed, a sound like breaking glass, and followed him toward the stairs. Aria ducked back into the shadows, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat.

But Papa stopped. He turned back to Mama, and Aria saw the anger in his eyes. The kind of anger that always ended with Mama on the floor.

"Please, honey, don't do this to me," Mama whispered. She grabbed his arm. "Not in front of—"

"Don't touch me!" Papa roared.

He raised his hand. Aria wanted to scream. She wanted to run down the stairs and throw herself between them. But she couldn't move. She was frozen, like a bird caught in a snake's gaze.

Papa's hand came down. Not a slap. A punch. Mama fell to the ground.

Aria pressed both hands over her mouth. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. All she could do was watch as Papa kicked Mama in the stomach, over and over, while the beautiful woman stood by the door and watched like it was television.

Mama cried. She curled into a ball on the floor, her arms wrapped around her stomach, and cried.

"Stop," Aria whispered. But no one heard her.

Papa spat on Mama. Then he took the woman's hand and walked upstairs. A door slammed. The house went quiet except for Mama's sobs.

Aria should have gone to her. She should have run down the stairs and held Mama and told her everything would be okay. But her legs wouldn't work. She stood there, trembling, until she heard the sound of the upstairs bedroom door lock clicking into place.

Then she moved.

She ran down the stairs, her bare feet slapping against the cold floor. Mama was still on the ground, her face swollen, her lip bleeding.

"Mama, are you okay?" Aria dropped to her knees. Her voice came out as a croak.

"I'm okay, baby," Mama said. But she didn't look okay. She looked broken. "Don't worry about me. Just go to bed now."

"Mama, you come with me." Aria grabbed her mother's hand and pulled. "Dad locked your room. Where will you sleep?"

Mama stared at her for a long moment. Then she nodded and let Aria help her stand. They climbed the stairs slowly, and Aria felt every one of her mother's winces like a knife in her own chest.

They were halfway down the hall when they heard it. The woman. Moaning Papa's name. Loud enough to fill the whole house.

Mama stopped. Her face crumpled, and she covered her mouth with both hands. Aria pulled her forward, into her bedroom, and closed the door.

"Lie down, Mama," Aria said. She guided her mother to the bed, and Mama lay down with a soft cry of pain.

Aria sat beside her. She took Mama's hand and held it tight.

"Tell me a story," Aria said. "The one about the prince and the white horse."

Mama smiled. It was a weak smile, but it was real. "Once upon a time," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "there was a girl who lived in a tower. She was very sad, and very lonely. But one day, a prince came on a white horse. He climbed the tower and carried her away, and they lived happily ever after."

"That's not a real story," Aria said.

"No," Mama agreed. "But it's a nice one."

Aria crawled into bed beside her mother. She wrapped her arms around Mama's waist and pressed her face into Mama's shoulder. Mama smelled like jasmine and tears.

"Mama," Aria whispered. "I'm never going to marry a rich man. Rich people are heartless. They treat us like trash. I hate them."

Mama stroked Aria's hair. "You're such a good girl, Aria. You won't have a fate like me. A prince will come to marry you on a white horse. He will make you happy and love you forever."

"No, Mama." Aria's voice was fierce. "I will never marry. And I will never leave you."

Mama didn't answer. She just held Aria tighter, and after a while, her breathing slowed and her body relaxed. She was asleep.

Aria stayed awake. She stared at the ceiling and listened to the rain and thought about all the ways she would kill her father if she ever got the chance.

But she never got the chance.

Three months later, Mama was gone.