Bound To The Wrong Sister

[ IRIS’S POV ] I woke the next morning with my bones heavy, lazy, like sleep never truly reached them.  I hadn’t rested. Not after what happened at the library yesterday. Salvatore said he has been watching me for five years without my knowledge.  Chasing men away, friends, strangers, even the ones I wanted gone myself.  And the way he spoke of owning me sent a cold shock racing through my nerves. like I belong to him.  How can a man be so crude….and so devastatingly hot at the same time? Claiming one woman while preparing to marry another. Only an insane man would attempt something like that. And unfortunately, that man was right here in the estate with me. I just wanted today’s alliance to go smoothly. So I could return to my life, where no one noticed me. And I was invisible by choice.  “Iris, are you there? Can I come in?” I tossed the duvet aside and bolted upright. My gaze flew to the clock on the wall, and I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.  I wasn’t late. For a moment, I’d been certain I had missed the alliance meeting and signing. “Come in, Sofia,” I said, settling back slightly.” I hope you’re not here to remind me what a widow I have become.” Sofia stepped inside. The first thing her eyes assessed was my nightwear, still clinging to my body. She sighed, long and tired. “I knew this was exactly how I’d find you,” she said .”We need to be in the study in thirty minutes. And I’m sure you wouldn’t want to be late for your sister’s engagement finalization.” With that, she turned and left, no pause, no room for reply.  An act I will be setting straight soon.  She would learn to get a reply from me before walking off or she shouldn’t border on talking to me. I headed to the bathroom and began my routine, preparing myself for the alliance. All the while, hoping, quietly, desperately, that it would fail. So, Salvatore would be out of the estate and my life for good. ______________ The Russo study felt smaller than usual. The heavy scent of my father’s expensive Cuban cigar and the moretti’s aged bourbon created a suffocating haze.  Two large desks have been pushed together to form a bridge between the two empires.  And on one side sat my father. He looked more smuggler than I’d ever seen him. Obviously happy about the alliance, but the engagement in Particular.  My father likes power and the Morettis are a force of nature and here they are about to get married to his daughter.  On the other side is the architect of death. Vincenzo Moretti. A man whose name spelled doom. Salvatore stands beside his father like a silent reaper, waiting for harvest.  The cloth he wore did not do justice. A plain white shirt and a pair of dark jeans, but the bottom was thin enough to trace the hard plane of his chest.  Rugged and entirely too distracting. Well if he’s here to show off, then he succeeded. Because right now, Sofia’s mouth is about to hit the hard floor. I stood by the window hidden by the heavy velvet curtains. Sofia stood front and center.  She was wearing a silk white dress that screamed perfect bride. Only if she knows ten nuts have been screwed off his fiancé's head.  She looked like a queen prepared for her coronation. I, in my simple black slip dress, felt like a shadow. “The terms are set,” my father announced, his voice booming with the false heartiness of a man who just sold his soul for a profit. “The shipping routes in the north, the casinos in Vegas, and the union of our bloodlines. Salvatore weds Sofia on the first of next month. Salvatore didn’t look at my father. He didn’t look at the maps spread across the table. He didn’t even look at Sofia, who was beaming at him with practiced, elegant grace. Like a queen sitting on her throne. His eyes-dark, predatory, and burning with the same lustful fire in his eyes. The one he had looked at me with at the library. I felt the heat of his gaze crawling over my skin, tracing the line of my throat. I was imagining his thumb pressing there again.  My heart hammered against my ribs, a trapped bird wanting to fly and stay all at once. “Salvatore,” Vincenzo prompted, sliding a gold fountain pen across the desk. It looked like a weapon in this room .” Sign. End the war.” Salvatore moved then. Every movement was slow, deliberate, and terrifyingly powerful. He stepped towards the desk, but his eyes never broke contact with mine. It was a silent challenge.  The one I did not plan on losing, not to him. Run, his eyes said. See how far you get before I catch you. He picked up the pen, but he didn’t lean down to the paper. “Wait,” Salvatore's voice was a low growl that vibrated in my very marrow. My father stiffened. But the smile didn’t leave his face, but his eyes turned cold,” Is there a problem? Young Moretti.” Sofia's smile was now off her face, I watched as she looked over at our father, then back to Salvatore, and back to the paper on the desk that was yet to be signed.  Her hands were now clutching her perfect white dress. What a dramatic family I have. “The contract stays,” Salvatore said, finally gaining at the paper as if it were an afterthought.” But I want a clause added. A security amendment.” Sofia stepped forward, her hand reaching for Salvatore’s arm .” Security? Salvatore, we have the finest guards in the state.” Salvatore didn’t flinch, but he didn’t acknowledge her touch either. He looked back at me “ The Russo estate is compromised. Your father’s finest let me slip into the library last night unnoticed, didn’t they, Iris?” I felt his question ring in my head.  I had lied to Sofia. That I wasn't there with him. And here he is, saying it in front of all that he had slipped into the library unnoticed. WHAT DO I DO?