I Became the Bride of Three Mafia Kings

“This is crazy.”

I stared at my father across his desk. Stupid.

“You’re seventeen. You knew this would happen.” He opened one of the drawers on his desk.

“Why don’t Douglass or Ben have to marry? Ben is my twin.”

“You’re a girl. That’s why.”

Dad dropped a wad of papers onto the desk. “I already have a few men calling to ask about you.”

“Dad, it’s my birthday. Can I have one more day of freedom?”

“Harper, you need to sort your attitude out. I can tolerate you because I’m your father. Your husband won’t, and you know that.”

“So don’t get me married off.” I stated the obvious.

“You know I can’t do that.” He tapped the papers. “Find one you think looks nice.”

I groaned, grabbed the papers, and stormed out of his office. Ben was sitting halfway down the stairs, already laughing when I passed him.

“It isn’t funny.”

“Yes, it is. A year from now, you’re going to be walking down the aisle with some—”

I shoved him down the rest of the stairs.

“OW! Dad! She just pushed me!”

I carried on walking. I couldn’t even slam my bedroom door because I didn’t have one anymore. Dad had taken it away two weeks ago.

So instead, I grabbed my salt lamp, walked into my closet, and sat on the cloth-covered floor. At least nobody bothered me here.

I switched on the lamp and dropped the papers beside me. Dad would want someone powerful. Someone with money. Someone who could bring an alliance between two families.

Fine.

If I had to marry someone, I wanted someone rich enough that I’d never have to worry about money again. Preferably someone who would die young. That way, I could inherit everything and never have to marry again.

I flipped through the pages.

Twenty-eight.

No.

Thirty-four.

Absolutely not.

Thirty-one.

Why did Dad think I wanted to marry someone twice my age?

I kept going. The whole thing was ridiculous. Men old enough to have teenage children were apparently looking at seventeen-year-old girls and thinking, Yes, that's the wife for me. Like, stop.

My sister, Lavender, hadn't even gotten to choose. Dad had found her a husband in Rome, and she'd been shipped off there after the wedding. At least I got a choice. Technically.

I reached the end of the list. Three men.

I stared at the pages before ripping the entire booklet in half. Then again. And again.

I leaned my head against the wood behind me, staring at the initial carved into it. I'd done that when I was six, back when I found my first knife and decided carving my initials into things was the greatest idea in the world.

Dad had never really cared about me. After Mom died, I became almost invisible unless I did something wrong. I'd done something wrong two weeks ago. I'd been kissing one of my girlfriends. We'd wanted to experiment. Dad hadn't liked that.

He killed her. Then he took my bedroom door off its hinges.

So, apparently, my future husband was supposed to appreciate the fact that I was still a virgin. Wonderful.

“Harper?”

I heard Douglass outside.

I reached up and pushed the closet door open without stepping out. He crouched in front of me.

“Why are you throwing a tantrum?”

“Look at the men Dad picked. They're all ancient.”

I handed him the torn pages. His face tightened as he looked at them.

“Yeah. I think he gave you the wrong sheet.”

He stood. “Dad!”

I stayed exactly where I was. A few minutes later, Dad appeared with Douglass and the torn papers.

“The right list,” Dad said.

I looked at him. “I don't think you're fit to be someone's first wife.”

Of course.

“F*ck you—”

His hand struck my cheek before I could finish. I'd seen it coming. Still hurt.

“But I understand where you're coming from,” Dad continued as if nothing had happened. “You'll have a man by the end of the day, Harper. You'll meet him tomorrow. I'll arrange everything.”

My eyes widened. I looked at Douglass. He looked just as helpless as I felt.

“Fine. Just get out.”

I slid farther into the closet.

“Why are you moody? You knew this would happen.”

“Just go.” I closed my eyes and threw my head back. “And can I have my door back?”

“No.”

Of course.

“Douglass, call your Jessie.”

Dad and Douglass started walking away. I closed the closet doors.

A few seconds later, they opened again. Ben slipped inside and sat opposite me. We closed the doors. This was how we'd talked when we were younger. I barely spoke as a child. When I was three, I'd watched someone get shot and decided I didn't want to talk to anyone anymore.

Except Ben. He'd sit in here with me for hours.

“Henry is looking for a wife,” he said.

“Henry has f*ck*d literally every woman in existence. I'd rather not catch an STD.”

I kept my eyes closed. “You're so lucky you were born with a d*ck.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You don't understand how unfair this is.”

Ben was quiet.

“I have to cook. Clean. Do laundry. Garden. I can't have an opinion. I can't make my own choices.”

I opened my eyes. “All because I have a vagina.”

“Douglass's going to make sure you find someone good.”

“If he's older than twenty-five, I'm killing myself.”

“Don't say that.”

I smiled faintly. “You aren't even allowed to visit me once I'm married.”

“I know.”

He leaned his head back against the closet wall. “But we'll make it work.”

I closed my eyes again. I wanted to believe him.

***

The pool was the only place in the house where nobody could tell me what to do. I dove beneath the water and stayed there until my lungs burned. For a few seconds, I didn't have a father.

I didn't have a future husband. I didn't have a family waiting to decide the rest of my life for me. I just had water. Then I surfaced.

And saw a man standing at the edge of the pool. A very, very handsome man.

“Harper.”

I blinked water out of my eyes. “Who are you?”

“Get out of the pool.”

I stared at him. “No.”

His expression darkened. “Get out.”

“Who are you?”

The door behind him slid open. Douglass stepped outside.

“Uh... Harper, get out of the pool.”

“I'm not standing here half naked while some creepy blonde guy stares at me.”

“Don't flatter yourself,” Blondie muttered.

I scoffed.

Then I swam toward the steps and climbed out. Unfortunately, Blondie did exactly what I'd accused him of doing. His eyes swept over me from head to toe. And judging by the look on his face, he wasn't disappointed.

“*ssh*l*.”

I grabbed Douglass's sweatshirt and pulled it over my head. He immediately understood and let me have it.

“Who is this?”

Douglass sighed. “Your husband.”

I stared at him. “No.”

“You can't say no to everyone.”

“I can certainly try.”

Before I could argue any further, Blondie pushed me straight back into the pool. I came up spluttering. He stared down at me.

“Disobedient,” he said calmly. “But I can train her.”

“Train me?”

I climbed out again, grabbed Douglass's now-soaked sweatshirt, and slapped Blondie across the face with it. Then I ran. Both Dad and Ben were waiting inside.

“Edith!” Dad shouted.

The housekeeper came running.

“Take her upstairs and change her.”

“I am not marrying Blondie!”

“His name is Jackson,” Ben said, rubbing his jaw. “And he's the closest to everything you wanted.”

I stopped. “Jackson? Is he even Russian?"

“Now,” Dad said to Edith.

She grabbed my arm. I let her drag me upstairs.

“You need to stop,” she whispered as she towel-dried my hair. “He'll kill you, Harp.”

“Who is he?”

She looked at me. “Jackson Hall.”

I frowned.

“You don't know?”

“No.”

“He is very big name. Psychopath.”

My stomach dropped. “They're marrying me to a psychopath?”

Edith nodded. “He killed seven people last night.”

Jesus f*ck*ng Christ.

I changed into sweatpants and an oversized shirt. Then Edith dragged me downstairs, where Douglass took over and practically carried me into the living room despite my attempts to kick him.

“I hate all of you.”

He dropped me onto the couch. Jackson was sitting across from me. His hair was slightly damp from the pool, and unfortunately, he looked even better in proper lighting. He would absolutely be my type.

If I didn't have to marry him.

“You will marry Jackson,” Dad said.

“I will kill myself.”

“Jesus Christ.” Ben rubbed his face. “He's young.”

“Psychopath wasn't on my list of features.”

Jackson looked at Dad. “Is she always like this?”

“Yes.” Dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “Stubborn.”

Jackson looked back at me. “You're the girl without the bedroom door?”

I glared at him. “I don't need tucking into bed, Blondie.”

I jumped over the back of the couch and headed upstairs. Naturally, he followed.

“Why don't you have a door?”

“Because my father took it.”

“Why?”

“Because I kissed a girl.”

He went quiet. I climbed into bed. “Go away.”

Instead, he looked around my room. “You're messy.”

“I'm a lot of things.”

“I know.” He picked up one of my drawings. “You like to draw?”

“Go away.”

He put it down. “Very stubborn indeed.”

I rolled my eyes. He walked toward the door.

“This is how it will be, okay?”

I looked at him. “I don't like this arrangement any more than you do.”

At least we agreed on something.

“We'll marry. You'll live with me. We'll have separate rooms. I'll leave you alone, and you leave me alone.”

I stared at him. “Doesn't it bother you that you're saying all this to someone who's seventeen?”

His expression barely changed. “By the time we're married, you'll be eighteen.”

“It's still weird.” I pulled the blanket higher. “And stupid.”

A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“See you, little brat.”

He walked away. I stared after him. I really, really hated men.

I was supposed to be going for a nice, long walk alone.

But Ben didn't trust me not to jaywalk into traffic and kill myself, so he decided to join me. Douglass had also told me I needed to try and get along with Jackson, which apparently meant Jackson was coming too.

They were talking among themselves while I fed the ducks. Both of them kept watching me like hawks, but I hadn't said a word to either of them. I threw more duck food onto the grass, then took a step back when the ducks started swarming around me.

“Does she always do this?” Jackson asked.

“She likes animals more than people,” Ben replied. “Ducks, rabbits, and dogs are her favorites.”

They were talking about me as if I wasn't even standing there.

“You're going to make them obese,” Ben called.

“At least they'll be obese and happy.”

I threw another handful of food onto the grass before turning around and trotting away. Naturally, I heard both of them following me. I left the