Claimed for Life: An Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance

any of her strength, or her wit for that matter. She snapped at me for trying to forgo the garter band that I’m supposed to wear on my thigh beneath the ruffling lace of my dress, and demanded to know whether I was a virgin before I was permitted to marry her son.
Yes, I am a virgin. I’ve had no time for men, nor did I imagine myself having much time for them until now. Getting married wasn’t something I decided to do out of love. I’m doing it out of necessity and a duty to the Dormer Mafia. If we are to prevail through disaster, sometimes we have to bite the bullet and make sacrifices.
I’ll forgive Carter’s grandmother for her invasiveness because she looks to be on the brink of death, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to accept the same treatment from Carter. He might be a bigshot mafia boss, but as my new husband, he will respect me. If I’m going to give up the chance to have a genuine and meaningful marriage later on in life, I might as well make the best of this one.
I look down the bridal runway, trying to make out the figure standing on the stage. He’s not that far away, but the sunlight obscures the details of his face. All I can tell is that he’s at least twice my size, with shoulders as wide as bookshelves and muscles that are threatening to pop the tight treads of the fitted suit he has on. Jesus, am I marrying a man or a beast?
I try to appear strong as I creep down the aisle with Carter’s grandmother. My head is high, and my shoulders are back like I’m walking into battle instead of my wedding. I know that I can do this, but the thought of kissing Carter, a man I don’t even know, pops into my head, and I start to freak out inside.
Does he expect me to kiss him on the stage?
I mean, that’s what I’m supposed to do, right?
Oh god, why the hell did I agree to this?
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then, I take another and another. Soon, I’m not even thinking about the wedding. I’m just gliding down the aisle, slowly but surely making my way toward my target. If I view this as a mission, it suddenly doesn’t seem so bad. At least I was allowed to bring my camera on this one, but I must admit that I don’t feel the slightest desire to take pictures today.
I wish the sun wasn’t so hot. It reminds me of the desert, a place I never wish to return to. After crawling through the scalding sand with buzzards circling my head for hours, I’d have to be crazy to want to return to that wasteland, even if it was to get revenge on my father’s killers. That place took a piece of me that I can never get back, and sometimes it’s best to leave things like that behind and continue moving forward.
The veil over my head makes it hard for me to see Carter, even now, when I’m closer to him. What I can see are two green jewels set deep in his head. They sparkle like laser-cut emeralds and make me feel odd inside as I approach him. Carter has the eyes of a dragon and the body of a statue. I’m pleasantly surprised by what I can see so far, and I’m eager to view more of him as the day progresses.
The iron clasp on my arm loosens, and Carter’s grandmother floats off to the right, joining the front row of strangers, all sitting neatly in their collapsible white wooden chairs. It would’ve been too hot for metal, although I doubt the Calandro family would’ve chosen them even if it wasn’t. “Too cheap,” I can imagine them saying. Carter is a billionaire, and it’s obvious by the size of the family estate that he’s not the only one in his family who is dripping with wealth.
I’m no stranger to it, despite my relatively plain appearance at most times. I opt to blend in with regular people, to disappear in the crowds of locals in the places I visit. I don’t care that much for money, but it does have its perks. I wouldn’t have gotten those divine shots of Antarctic glaciers a few months ago with an empty pocketbook.
No, money is good, and I enjoy having it. I’m thankful that I get the opportunities that I do, but I refuse to let that kind of money spoil me.
The wedding music is loud, almost blaring as I step up to the alter, joining the groom in front of the audience. I look up at him as the music fades, saving my ears from being blown out by the notes of Here Comes the Bride played over large black speakers.
Carter’s face is serious, like he’s attending a funeral instead of a wedding, though I suppose I don’t exactly have the most cheerful expression either. Maybe he’s just nervous like I am, but I hope he’s not an introvert. That would make two of us, and it would take years to break the ice and get comfortable together if that were the case.
I force a smile to my lips, curling the sides of my mouth with my lips pressed tightly together. “Nice to meet you,” I whisper.
Carter cracks a smile, his teeth flashing in the summer sun like white lightening breaking open a bolder, and he lets out a deep chuckle. “Nice to meet you too, Honey.”
I smile, more genuinely this time. At least he has a sense of humor. That’s a relief.
The priest glares at me, as though making jokes is strictly against the rules of my own wedding, and both Carter and I go back to being serious. I would consider the ice broken, though. That wasn’t so hard.
My mind drifts back in time again as the priest begins reciting