Page 3 of Snowed in with the Mafia

Gianna was born with a congenital heart defect and had to undergo pediatric surgery. I was old enough to remember how sick she’d been and how my parents stopped at nothing to keep her alive.

My mother died when I was fourteen years old and made me promise on her deathbed that I would take care of my sister. My father did the same when I turned seventeen and he died.

My mother always said if Gianna was an orchid, I was the protective, resilient part of the flower, and she was the delicate petals, meant to be protected. That’s why she called our farm Twin Orchid.

We can’t leave this farm. Gianna won’t move, and I understand her reasons. This is the place where she feels closest to our parents. Her comfort zone. The thought of moving to the city, or anywhere else, petrifies her. I will not, in a million, zillion years, put any kind of stress on her that would jeopardize her health. She still needs to take medication every day and have regular checkups for her heart.

There is also no way my sweet sister is going to the devil’s lair to give her virginity to three underground lords she doesn’t know from a haystack. Not only is it an impossible thing to ask of her, but Gianna is also head over heels in love with Manny Phillip. And he with her. Manny is our sole farmhand, who is happy to work for such a low wage. It’s embarrassing, but he does it to be close to Gianna. When he isn’t on the farm, he runs his father’s very successful construction company. The only reason he accepts a wage from me is that I would have to fire him instead.

“No,” I say. This isn’t up for debate. Gianna isn’t going anywhere.

“If you stand in our way, Alessia,” my aunt says icily cold, “we will rescind the grace we’ve given you and your sister and burn this farm down to the ground. You will lose everything you hold so dear. You’ll be homeless and penniless. Think of what this will do to Gianna, being as weak as she is. It’ll be your fault if something were to happen to your sister and you lose the farm.”

Cold fury seeps into my body as Gianna whimpers in distress behind me.

“Please, Alessia, I have to do this,” Gianna begs, paling before my eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever hated my uncle, aunt, and cousin more than at that moment in my entire life. I can’t believe they’d put my sister through something like this.

My mind races. Thoughts crowd my head. If I refuse to let them use my sister this way, we’ll lose the farm. Gianna’s heart will break, and I won’t do that to her.

The situation is so dire I want to cry, but then through all the subterfuge, all I see is a massive opportunity. One so huge, so brilliant, I’m blinded by it. This could actually work.

I can do this. And it’s not like I actually have todo it—as in, do the deed itself. My plan is ingenious, if I do say so myself.

But I swear my heart is going to fly out of my chest, and I won’t be able to put it back inside. How much of this can I take? I’m just a farm girl who hasn’t set foot outside her country, let alone her state.

I certainly don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything in the world. My purpose here is to protect my sister, and the only place she wants to live is on the farm. Yes, the land needs a momentary boost to return to its former glory, and the house needs repairs inside and out, but in Gianna’s eyes, it’s still a castle, and that’s all that matters.

Yet my father’s brother and his family have no qualms about putting that kind of strain on her to have a baby with three strange men. Gosh, I hate them so much. This plan better work so we can finally be rid of them forever.

“I’ll do it. You can just as easily send me in Gianna’s place.”

Bianca’s boisterous laughter echoes around the room, tainting everything in sight.

“What part of being a virgin did you not understand?” she asks, wiping tears from her eyes. “Come, Gianna, I need to do your hair so I can take a picture of you to send to theVergine Selettore. Maybe just a bun will do.”

“Wait a minute. Are you saying you’re still a virgin, Alessia?” Aunt Martina asks, tapping her bottom lip with her finger.

“Yes.”

Falling in love, getting married, having babies—those things are not for me. No one in their right mind will ever fall in love with me, and I’m so okay with that. But I want Gianna to have those things, and I’m going to make sure she gets them.

“This might actually work out better,” Aunt Martina muses. “No offense, but I did worry Gianna lacks the grit to pull off something like this, and I envisioned her breaking down and crying and possibly having a heart attack during the act itself. But not you, Alessia. You’re too proud. You’ll do very well, very well indeed.”

The only thing that stops me from punching my aunt straight in the throat for what she said so callously about Gianna is waiting for the moment when I throw her on her ass off our property and then set Horatio, our prized bull, well, our only bull, after her, Bianca, and my uncle.

Chapter Four

Alessia

I keep my thoughts focused solely on my mission and its outcome. If I let in any outside noise, I’m going to crumble. It’s been thirty hours since Aunt Martina and Bianca dropped this in our laps.

I was instructed to take a picture of myself to send to the Vergine Selettore. Bianca refused to help me, claiming she wasn’t a miracle worker and sulking the rest of the day because she wasn’t the one bringing glory back to the Passero family. I slathered on some lipstick and mascara and let my long, dark hair fall naturally around my shoulders.

The picture was for the Vergine Selettore to see what she was working with—not that it would matter since she was being blackmailed into sending me to them, anyway. Poor woman.

Now I’m standing in the foyer of a luxury apartment building on the Upper Side of Manhattan, where I’ll meet the Vergine Selettore before a car sent by the Falchi family picks me up.

I pull my coat tighter around me. A minute has gone by since I last checked the time on my phone. I know this because I counted sixty seconds off in my head. One more minute, and the Vergine Selettore will come down to meet me. Five more minutes, and a car will arrive to take me to a hangar, where I’ll board a helicopter headed for a cabin in the mountains.

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