Winter's POV
I didn't realize how deeply I was sleeping until I woke up. I was so tired from yesterday, that I didn't even know I fell asleep.
Today my dad wants to talk to me. He said, that it is something really important. However, the last time my dad wanted to talk about something important, it was about my dating life.
But right now, I'm starving, so I better go eat something before I'll starve to death. And no, I'm not being overly dramatic.
I stepped from my bed and went stright to my walk-in closet to change into something comfy. If I will talk to my dad, I need to be in comfortable clothes. Duh.
Once I was changed I went to kitchen to make myself a healthy breakfast. Dad was already sitting there, eating peacefuly. Gosh, my nerves are starting to kick in.
Instead of going to the table like a normal person, I went to couch and sat there. You can probably all know by now that I am not normal person. Afterall I'm a literal mafia princess.
"Winter, as you already know, I wanna talk with you about something important."
"Ok."
"Please, go to my office after you are done with your breakfast."
"Sure dad."
What does he want to talk about? Well, I guess I'll find out soon.
When I finished my breakfast, I headed to my father's office. I went through our amazingly decorated hallway and stopped just in front of the doors. Here goes nothing.
Right after I walked in the room, my dad montioned me to sit, so I did. My dad fold his hands on his wooden desk and sighed heavily.
"Well?" I was curious. But wouldn't you be too?
"You know, this is kind of hard to understand."
"Dad, you are making me nervous."
"Sorry honey, I just-" He took a deep breath.
"You are getting married."
"What? Dad, I already told you, I haven't found the right one. And yet, you are marrying me off? Am I a joke to you?"
I was shocked, but still, maybe, just maybe, I understood it wrongly.
"You need to understand, that this is for your own good."
No I was not wrong. Okay, breathe Winter, breathe.
"To who."
"Kaden Salvini. The heir to Salvini mafia."
W-what?!
"These motherfuckers killed my mother and you want me to marry one of them?! No way I'm doing this!"
"Winter."
"No! You don't understand! I-"
"Winter!" He shouted and got up from his chair. He was supporting his body with the wooden desk, giving me an furious, yet sad expression.
"I know, this is hard for you to understand, but at least try!"
I broke into tears. Why? Why would my own father marry me off to a family, which he knows I despise the most? Since what happened to my mother, the only thing that wanted was take my revenge on them. Yet, I need to marry him.
"Winter..." His voice was soft, but I didn't care.
"Don't Winter me!"
"I am doing this because of you! They were the only ones that had been able to heart our family and I don't want them to hurt you too. Being wife of Salvini's will give you the privilge of not getting hurt by them."
I was left speechless by my father's words. How could he? After all they done? Great, just great.
"No." To my surprise I said that rather confidently.
"We can't back off now. The deal is already signed."
I was furious. I agressively got up from the fucking chair and made my way to the door.
"Winter get back now! Winter! Win-"
I slammed the door as loudly as I could to make him shut up. I know he's my father, but right now, I don't give a damn.
I ran to my room and fell onto my bed. I burst into tears. My chest suddenly felt heavy. My head was burning me like shit.
I fell asleep. At least I will get a break from this drama. Until I will wake up again.
Guys! I can't believe that this book just got 15 reads! I literally published it yesterday!!!
Thank you so much for all of this support.
Hope you enjoyed all the drama from this chapter and see you in the next one.
Stay tuned!
~Vicky
DU LIEST GERADE
Bounded With Love
RomantikWinter Ferrante. A 19-year old mafia princess and heiress to Ferrante mafia, also known as one of the most powerful mafias in the world. She gets everything she wants. But there is one thing that she doesn't and yet she'll still get it. Kaden Salvi...
