Captivated by the deadly mafia boss

Kasia

“He’s here!” Diana shuts my bedroom door and presses her back against it. Her cheeks are pale, her chest is rising and falling rapidly.

“Have you talked to him?” I scoot off my bed. She shakes her head; tears well up in her soft brown eyes.

“I can’t.” She covers her mouth.

I go to her, pull her into a hug. “Don’t worry, Diana. We’ll figure a way out of this. Dad can’t do this; Mom won’t let him.” I pat her back while she winds her arms around my middle.

This isn’t new. Me comforting my twin sister over something our father has done.

“He’s already done it. Mr. Staszek is here too. They have a contract laid out on the desk. They’re talking about this like I’m a prized cow.” She lets go of me and runs her hands over her cheeks. Tears have stained her face.

“A contract?” My stomach turns. It’s not real, it can’t be. What judge would uphold an agreement like this?

“Yes.” She walks across my room, twisting her hands together. “Mom’s not even home. She left. She left me to do this on my own.”

“That’s not true.” I defend. “If she’s not here, it’s because he made her leave.”

Diana nods, rubbing her temple. “I know. I’m sorry, Kasia. I’m losing my mind here. This can’t be happening. It just can’t be.”

She’s in no state to go down there and deal with our father. With the Staszek men. Her hair is wound up in a tight bun and she’s dressed in a soft blue romper.

“Has Dad seen you already?” I ask her as I make my way to my vanity.

“What? Yes. He’s the one that told me they were here. I’m supposed to be waiting in the living room, but I had to come up here. I had to get away from it for a moment.” Fat, fresh tears roll down her cheeks again.

“Okay, come here, get out of that romper.” I sit at my vanity and pull out the pins needed to get my hair wound up like hers. I hate having my hair twisted up the way she does, but no choice for it now.

“Why?”

“Mr. Staszek won’t know the difference. Give me your romper,” I say urgently. If she’s supposed to be waiting in the living room, it means they’ll be calling her soon. We don’t have much time to make the switch.

“This isn’t second grade, Kasia. We can’t do this.” She rolls the romper over her hips as she argues with me.

I finish with the last pin and quickly change out of my t-shirt and leggings and into her outfit.

“You can’t go down there sobbing. It will show weakness, and men like them, they feed off it,” I say, repeating the words of our father.

She wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “Kasia. I’m the older one, I’m supposed to protect you, not the other way around.”Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

I work the last button in place, then go back to my vanity to swipe on makeup. Diana favors blues; I dig out an eyeshadow pallet and get to work.

“You’re older by six minutes,” I say as I finish the last of my mascara. “Let me do this for you. I will deal with Dad and the Staszeks, and you stay up here. Out of sight.” I squeeze her shoulders.

She sniffles. “Okay. Okay.” She nods. “Thank you, Kasia.”

I smile. “What are twins for?”

I leave her to hide away in my room and make my way quickly down to the living room. I’m just sitting down on the couch when Mr. Marcowski, Dad’s new attorney, comes to fetch me.

With a cleansing breath, a quick mental prayer, I follow him down the hall to where my father is waiting.

I hate my father’s office. It’s never been a room that created any pleasant memories for me. This is no different.

“This must be Diana.” An older man I assume is Joseph Staszek smiles at me. His face is squishy, like he’s recently lost a lot of weight and his skin hasn’t snapped back into place. He inclines his head in greeting but doesn’t come toward me.

“Diana.” My father says the name with contempt. The way he speaks my own name. He knows. To call me out on my trickery would embarrass him in front of these men, and he won’t do that. But he’ll deal with me later.

“Diana, this is Mr. Joseph Staszek. And this is Dominik Staszek, his son, your intended.”

Intended. Sometimes I wonder if my father even understands the modern world. He’s so entrenched with old rituals and rules; he sounds as outdated as the furniture in his office.

“Mr. Staszek.” I force a smile for him. Diana is more civil than me, more polite. She wouldn’t offend anyone in this room, and even with my father aware of the switch, I don’t want to make her first impression to these men a bad one.

When I move my gaze to Dominik to greet him, a chill runs down my back. He’s not my age. He looks well past high school years. His hair is cut on the long side, and his beard is well trimmed. It’s his eyes that give me pause. Ice blue.

“Dominik,” I say quietly and avert my gaze. He’s dressed in a black suit with a regal blue shirt, no tie. His hands are tucked into his slacks, but even with his position I can see the muscles beneath his clothing.

“Diana.” He inclines his head. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“The contract has been worked out; we only need your signature, then you can go up to your room. I know you have a lot of homework to get to,” my father says. He’s referring to the biology report I haven’t completed. The tutor my mother made him hire is nothing more than a tattletale.

Mr. Marcowski walks to the desk and turns it toward me, holding out a pen for me. I swallow hard beneath the stare of all four of them on me. Diana would have crumbled in this room. She would have fallen into a fit of sobs. Being made to sign away your future can do that to a sixteen-year-old girl.

I glide across the room, my chin held high and snatch the pen from his hand. The attorney points to the last empty line at the bottom of the paper. Everyone else has already scribbled their names.

“You don’t need to read it. Just sign,” my father snaps at me. I clear my throat as a way to keep from commenting back, then put the pen to the paper.

Easily the pen glides over the paper as I scrawl my sister’s name on the line. Signing away her future. Signing away any chance she had of falling in love the way a girl is supposed to.

“Good!” Mr. Staszek claps his hands together in celebration. He should be happy, from what I was able to glimpse of the contract his family stands to inherit all of my father’s businesses upon his death. There is no son to pass the business onto, this is the next best thing.

“They will be happy, back home,” Mr. Staszek says. “This little feud-it’s over,” he says and waves over at Dominik. “Why don’t you escort your bride for a few minutes.”

Dominik gives a slight nod.

What feud are they talking about?

“Let’s go, Diana.” Dominik touches my arm when he gets close enough. The way he says the name, it’s bitter. Is he as unhappy about this arrangement as Diana is?

“I’ll be up to talk with you later,” my father calls to me as we reach the door. I don’t bother to acknowledge him. He can add it to the list of things he’ll punish me for. I don’t care.

Dominik towers over me as we walk down the hall.

“I can walk myself, thanks,” I say to him as we get to the stairs. “I’m sure you have things to do.”

He grabs my hand as I step onto the stairs and pulls me around to look down at him.

“You’re not Diana,” he accuses.

I school my features. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I saw Diana scurry like a scared mouse when we arrived. She wasn’t wearing any earrings, and she was wearing white sandals.” He gives a pointed look at the black flip flops. I forgot the shoes.

“Does it matter? You got what you came for. A signature,” I say, pulling my hand from his. It’s too big, too powerful. “How old are you?” If we’re skirting small talk, I’d like some information.

“Twenty-five,” he says with a grin. “You’re sixteen. Don’t worry, I won’t claim your sister until after she’s graduated high school. She’s a free bird until then.” He places one hand on the banister and leans on it. “Tell her, I expect her to be at the wedding. And if I were you, Kasia, I’d teach her a bit more about bravery. She’s going to need it.” He winks, then pushes away from the stairs, pockets his hands, and saunters back down the hall toward the office.

Whistling.

The asshole is whistling.

I run up the stairs to my room.

Two years. I have two years to find a way for my sister to get out of this marriage.

Because my sister will never survive being married to a man as cold as him.