Artem watched Vittorio Moretti with a mix of disdain and caution. The Morettis were one of the most powerful families in Italy, their influence stretching from Sicily to New York. However, the very idea of dealing with an Italian made his stomach turn. His thoughts inevitably led him to Santino D' Luca, and the distrust in his eyes deepened.
"Let's suppose I'm in the mood to hear your proposal, Vittorio. So hurry up. I'm getting bored."
Artem didn't bother to sit down. Instead, he turned to fix his gaze on an old portrait, his mind drifting away from the old man's presence. But Vittorio, leaning on his cane, stood up with effort, his face marked by the passage of time and the guilt that gnawed at him from within.
"I'm dying, Artem..." he began, but Artem's dry laugh interrupted him.
"And what does that have to do with me?" he asked with a coldness that cut like a knife. "Do you want me to say I'm sorry, Vittorio? It's not in my nature. Have a good trip to hell."
Vittorio didn't flinch at the cruelty. He knew he deserved it.
"I'm dying," he repeated, with a more desperate tone, "and that's why I want you to marry my daughter."
Disbelief marked Artem's face, and he turned towards him, his gray eyes flashing with contained fury.
"What the hell are you talking about?" he snapped. "Marry your daughter?"
Vittorio nodded, his face tense from the effort to remain calm.
"This damn cancer is eating me from the inside. I don't want to leave without ensuring my daughter will be safe."
Artem let out a bitter laugh, a hollow sound devoid of joy.
"Safe? With me? Have you gone mad?" He took a step forward, approaching Vittorio with a palpable threat. "Stop screwing around, Vittorio. I'm not interested in your fucking proposal."
He was about to leave when Vittorio's voice, laden with a desperation he couldn't hide, stopped him in his tracks.
"I'll leave you the organization. You'll be the new capo. But in return, you must take care of Liana. She's my only daughter and rightful heir. You know how this world is, Artem. They'll hunt her down, make her their bitch... Liana isn't prepared. No woman is."
Artem pressed his lips together. The weight of Vittorio's words began to sink into his mind, despite his attempt to keep his heart hardened.
"Leaving her with me is like leaving her with a monster." His voice was low, dangerous. "Besides, I'm not a babysitter, and in case you haven't noticed, I'm in a damn prison. I fight for satisfaction, Vittorio. Do you really think I'll be a good husband?"
The fear in Vittorio's eyes became almost tangible, but so did his resolve.
"You don't have to love her, Artem. You just have to protect her. That's all I ask. You know your father is starting a war. Grigori Petrova is dead, and Mikhail has taken his routes. Is that what you want? To let him get what he wants?"
The name Mikhail ignited a dark fury in Artem. He felt the rage boiling inside him, a fire he had fed for years. Mikhail Vasiliev had stolen everything from him: his childhood, his mother, his life. Seeing him dead was his only goal. But was it worth the price?
He looked at Vittorio again, seeking the truth in his eyes, sunken by guilt and fear.
"What do you really want, Vittorio?" his voice was an icy whisper. "I don't buy that you're offering me power just like that."
Vittorio pressed his lips together, aware that he was losing ground.
"When I die, she'll be in great danger," he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. "Since she was born, her fate was sealed by an agreement between our family and the Rossis. A blood pact." He paused, letting the weight of those words fall on Artem.
The tremor in Vittorio's hands didn't go unnoticed by Artem, who felt a knot in his stomach at the man's fragility.
"Victor Rossi..." Vittorio's name came out like a curse, "is a sadist, a monster worse than me. I can't let my daughter fall into his clutches, even if breaking this pact means unleashing a war. I hid her, took her out of Chicago. But the Rossis are patient. I've managed to hold them off, but my strength is running out."
Vittorio's pleading gaze pierced Artem, who felt a strange mix of contempt and compassion.
"I don't have time, Artem. I'm asking you to accept protecting my daughter. It's not just a marriage; it's saving her from a fate worse than death."
Vittorio took a step towards him, desperation evident in every line of his face.
"I'll get you out of this prison. I'll give you the chance to destroy your father, to take revenge, but in return, you must protect Liana as if she were your own life." His voice dropped to a trembling murmur. "Because if you don't... I won't be able to save her, and my soul will be damned forever."
Artem remained silent, struggling against the anger that threatened to overflow. He knew that accepting an alliance with the Morettis was risky, but the possibility of avenging Mikhail was too tempting. The decision wasn't easy, but necessity made strange allies.
"Where is your daughter?" he asked coldly. "Does she know about this?"
Vittorio sighed, his voice breaking.
"She knows nothing about the wedding. She's been away from it all."
Artem frowned, his curiosity mixed with distrust.
"I don't like how this sounds. I'm not going to force anyone. If the girl doesn't want to, it would be better if..." he stopped, noting Vittorio's silence, sensing that there was more at stake. "What are you hiding from me, Vittorio?"
With a swift movement, Artem grabbed him by the neck, anger reflected in every muscle of his body.
"Because... she's been in a convent."
Artem's eyes widened, shock momentarily displacing his fury.
"What?! A convent?"
Vittorio nodded slowly, his gaze filled with pain and regret.
"I sent her there to protect her."
Artem released him, stepping back as he tried to process the revelation.
"You want me to marry a nun? She's married to God!"
"She's not a nun yet; she hasn't taken her vows."
"She's still a nun," Artem growled, his anger flaring again.
Vittorio shook his head, his voice laden with guilt.
"She's a novice, not a nun."
"That doesn't make any fucking difference, Vittorio!" Artem shouted. "Even though I'm a monster, I still consider some things sacred."
"You don't have to worry about that, Artem. She will respect you, obey you. My daughter..." Vittorio's voice trembled, "is of weak character. Just accept the deal and let me die in peace!"
Artem looked at him with a mix of hatred and determination. The temptation to wring his neck was strong, but the desire for revenge was even stronger. He could finally go after his father, make him pay for every drop of blood he had spilled.
"Fine," he finally said, his words sharp as a knife. "I accept your proposal. I'll marry your daughter."
Vittorio's eyes shone with palpable relief, but also with the weight of guilt.
"You've made the right decision, Artem. Liana will be a good wife... she'll give you children and..."
"Hey, hey!" Artem interrupted, raising a hand. "Let's get something straight. I'm not screwing your daughter, Vittorio. If I marry her, it's just to protect her. I'll give her the status of a wife, nothing more. I'm not going to deflower a nun."
Vittorio nodded, satisfied. He had gotten what he wanted. How his daughter's marriage to Artem would turn out, only God and the Virgin would know; he would already be dead to find out. The important thing was that Liana would be safe in Artem's hands.
"Well, then I'll prepare your release. Enjoy your last night here, Artem. You'll be a free man tomorrow." With that, the old man walked to the door and left.
When it closed, Artem ran his hand through his hair in frustration.
"Damn! I'm going to marry a nun!"