Chapter 3 Prologue 3 - The Price Of Peace

Dante Gray:

If I had to evaluate, both possibilities were absurd. But that shit wasn't a competition of who got there first, and I wasn't in love with anyone. So why, with Clara, despite her also being young, didn't it seem so wrong? I questioned myself in thought. Maybe it was the fact that she was known to the family—but that shouldn't be relevant.

"No, Father. There's no one," I said more calmly, ignoring my own thoughts.

"Then, my son, think of it another way," he leaned back in his chair. "I remember that one of the things that made me want your mother was the idea of freeing her from an abusive father. In the mafia, what happens most is this: women are already born condemned to be used as bargaining chips and to live unhappily. Our family is an exception. By marrying this girl, you'll be helping her. And in the end, maybe you'll have a happy marriage—just like mine."

My head couldn't process a single complete thought. I preferred to remain silent.

"I'll support you, regardless of what you decide," my father said, his voice lower, more intimate. "But remember: after making a decision, you must honor your word as a man."

He stood up, squeezed my shoulder in a sign of support, and left, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

The reasons my father had given me were tangible. I'd grown up learning to respect and protect women—I would do anything for them. My mother and Júlia, for example, were so delicate and precious that just thinking about the possibility of someone hurting them drove me insane. What I don't wish for the women in my life, I don't wish for any other. My father and I would carefully choose a fiancé for Júlia—and if there wasn't anyone worthy, she wouldn't even need to marry. For that, my father wasn't in a hurry either.

The guys in my family and I weren't good people. We carried a host of crimes and sins on our backs. But within the laws of our world, we did what we believed to be right—and that included caring for, protecting, and respecting our women and all others we could.

Even thinking that way, there was something circling my mind and leaving me in doubt. I knew that, initially, marriages in the mafia were just contracts. But everything became easier when the woman actually wanted to get married—and even better if she wanted to marry you specifically.

A year ago, on that Christmas night, Clara had made it clear that she wanted to marry me. The idea seemed totally absurd to me, considering she was practically the same age as my sister. However, despite being very young, she seemed very determined to get what she wanted—and her boldness had left me impressed. After that night, she'd gotten my cell phone number—probably through one of my cousins—and started sending me messages quite frequently. Sometimes I even replied. But most of the time, I didn't.

She seemed like a mature girl for her age, and she was very beautiful. But I didn't want to give her false hope. Besides, I didn't think it was proper for the future Leader to be exchanging messages with someone so young who, moreover, was practically family. Thinking about it, I started ignoring her messages—but they never stopped coming. The girl was truly stubborn.

Thinking rationally, marrying Clara wouldn't be a profitable decision for the organization. The Brotherhood and Macau would always be united—that alliance had existed since before I was born. Our families were very close friends, and although we didn't trust anyone, we knew we could trust them.

My father had made it clear that the decision was mine. But I knew that, although he didn't shy away from a fight, he tried to keep things peaceful. He always said that it was also a good leader's role to avoid unnecessary wars and deaths. Our enemies tried to hit us where it hurt most—affecting our family—that's why we always kept the peace as much as possible. With great effort, I realized the most sensible decision would be to accept that marriage.

A few minutes later, the office door opened. My father and the others entered, ending my private moment. Everyone sat down and looked at me expectantly.

"I'm going to get married," my voice came out firm, without hesitation. "But only when she comes of age. In the meantime, I want her to be treated well, have a good school education, and live as she sees fit, as much as possible. She can travel, play sports, take courses, or do whatever she desires—as long as she's protected."

My father looked at me seriously, but I could see in his expression that he was proud.

"I don't want her to be deprived of anything," I completed, looking directly at Caius. "Because after she marries the future Leader, she won't be able to live a normal, free life."

Caius seemed satisfied with my response. A wide, oily smile spread across his face.

"I agree with your conditions. I'll provide all of that to my daughter, and when she comes of age, she'll be your wife. You made the right decision, young man."

I didn't smile back.

"I know you won't have any contact before the wedding," he continued, as if granting a favor. "But I think it would be interesting to at least have a dinner to seal the commitment and for you two to meet."

"I don't think it's necessary," I cut in, my voice cold. "She's still very young. She doesn't need to deal with this kind of situation now."

"That's enough for today," my father intervened, with the wisdom of someone who knew me to the bone. "When she comes of age, we'll arrange a lunch for them to meet. Let the girl live her youth in peace, without any weight regarding the marriage."

"All right," Caius replied, somewhat reluctantly.

And we ended the meeting.

But I knew, deep in my bones, that that peace was only a truce. And that, sooner or later, that promise forged in blood and interests would come back to collect its price.