Only His: A Dark Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance Read online

  Only His

  Olivia Ashers

  Copyright © 2021 by Olivia Ashers

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  https://oliviaashers.weebly.com/

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Epilogue

  Also By Olivia Ashers

  Chapter 1

  I RAN MY FINGER OVER my sister’s photo. Six months had passed since she died in a car crash, and every day, I missed her even more.

  I had no idea why people said that time cured everything. It just didn’t ring true to me. My chest was still full of holes.

  My heart still broken into pieces.

  Maybe I would feel whole again one day, but I had no idea when that would be or if that day would ever come.

  After our mom passed away when we were teens, my sister and I had been inseparable. She’d been my strength and my reason to keep going.

  “Don’t worry, Isabella,” Sofia used to say. “I’m your big sister and I’ll always keep you safe. No matter what.”

  We were complete opposites, but that hadn’t mattered to us.

  She was a beautiful blonde with blue eyes, and very much like our mom, while I had long dark brown hair and brown eyes, like our father.

  But it wasn’t all just about our looks.

  She’d liked to party and had always been the center of attention, while I preferred to curl up with a book in some quiet corner.

  The beep of my phone pierced through my thoughts, bringing me back to reality. When I saw the number on the screen, I jerked back.

  It was a number I hadn’t seen for quite a while.

  My father.

  I hadn’t been in contact with him much, ever since he and my mom divorced. He’d repeatedly cheated on her and never had the decency to even feel sorry about it.

  I still remembered when they’d screamed at each other, and my father had been blaming my mom for his affair.

  I had a feeling he never liked me much either and preferred my sister. She’d always been a daddy’s girl, and it was like they’d shared a connection he and I had never developed.

  He’d given her bigger gifts and spent more time with her while I’d always been more of a nuisance to him.

  Even after everything that had gone down, my sister had found it in her heart to forgive him for what he’d done, and they’d been in touch all the time.

  He’d even paid for her tuition for an expensive private college out of town and gotten her an apartment after she graduated. I’d had to get a job and take a loan to be able to attend a community college and stay at my mom’s old apartment.

  I never held that against her. She’d decided to give our father a second chance, and I’d opted for keeping any contact with him as minimal as possible.

  My father had never protested my decision.

  Actually, he was probably glad about it.

  The last time I’d spoken to him was at my sister’s funeral, and we’d merely exchanged a few words. Out of courtesy, I supposed.

  Why was he calling me now?

  I hesitated for a few moments before answering. “Hello?”

  “Isabella, honey! It’s so good to hear your voice.” My father’s voice on the other end of the line was unusually cheerful and warm.

  Had he decided that, now that my sister was gone, he wanted to have a relationship with me after all?

  “Do you need something?” I asked.

  Somehow, I didn’t believe he’d called just to check on me.

  “Actually, yes.”

  I inwardly groaned.

  Of course.

  Had there ever been any doubt about that?

  “What is it?” I sighed.

  “Do you remember that necklace your sister used to wear all the time? The silver one with a dolphin? I gave it to her for her birthday.”

  “Um, yeah. Why?” My sister had loved that necklace.

  “I’d like to have it. Do you think you could go to her apartment and find it for me? I’ll be in town on business soon. We could meet up then and you could give it to me.”

  I thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, sure.”

  I had no idea why I’d just agreed.

  He could’ve gone to her apartment himself. Her stuff was still there, untouched.

  My father had said the apartment was on sale, and that we’d move everything out once it was sold, but I had no idea if he’d actually put it on sale or preferred to keep it the way it was in my sister’s memory.

  Maybe a part of me wanted an excuse to go back there.

  I’d spent days and nights crying in her apartment after she died. Having all her things and her scent everywhere was both soothing and heartbreaking at the same time.

  It was like a piece of her was back with me, but at the same time, it also made me painfully aware that she was gone.

  Forever.

  “Great. Once you find it, text me,” my father said. “And I’ll let you know when we can meet.”

  “Okay.” As soon as I said it, the line went dead.

  Wonderful.

  I’d just agreed to see my father again, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. And yeah, despite not really wanting to have any contact with him, it still stung a little that he’d only called because of my sister.

  Unfortunately, emotions were rarely simple, and I couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

  My father had never told me he hated me, but he hadn’t told me he loved me either. Sometimes, it felt like a part of me wanted him to say out loud how he felt about me because anything would be better than him just ignoring me and pretending that our relationship wasn’t completely messed up.

  But wishing things and thinking about them wasn’t going to make them true, and I didn’t want to confront my father either because I could already guess what he’d say, and it wouldn’t be pretty.

  I pocketed my phone and went to my room to change.

  The last time I was at my sister’s apartment, I could barely see anything from the tears in my eyes.

  Maybe now I’d have more strength and would be able to sort through some of her things. My father wasn’t the only one who wanted to have something of hers with him.

  I wanted so
mething too.

  Even though I already had a lot of her things, including all the stuff from her childhood she’d left at our mom’s apartment because she hadn’t had enough space left at hers, and the things she’d given me.

  But there was probably something more I’d like to keep to remind me of her and the happy moments we’d spent together, and I wanted to find it before someone threw it out or my father got an idea to take it for himself.

  I PAUSED AT THE DOOR before entering my sister’s apartment.

  Seeing everything almost exactly as it had been on the day she died brought back even more memories. For a second, I waited for her to come out of the room to my right and flash me a smile before launching into a story about the latest party she’d been to.

  But the whole apartment was awfully quiet.

  It was as if everything was suspended in time and was patiently waiting for Sofia to come back.

  “I miss you, Sofi,” I whispered as I entered, and closed the door.

  On my way to her room, I brushed my fingers against her coat that was on the hanger in the hallway.

  When I opened the door to her bright pink room, I fought the urge to cry.

  Maybe it didn’t matter if I broke down now because no one could see me here anyway, but I wanted my eyes to stay clear so that this time I could actually do what I’d come here for. I’d have to do it eventually anyway, and this was as good a time as ever.

  Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself.

  The necklace.

  I had to focus on the necklace. If I occupied my mind, I could go through this without bursting into tears.

  Where could she have put it?

  I checked her nightstand first. It was the place where she’d kept her favorite things that she used every day.

  But instead of the necklace, I only found a few scrunchies that she’d loved.

  I moved on to her closet next. As soon as I opened it, a few things spilled out, and something between a cry and a laugh escaped my throat.

  My sister had liked everything to appear tidy all the time, but she’d never felt like cleaning up much, so she’d stuff things under her bed or in her closet.

  If no one could see it, she’d pretend like it wasn’t there.

  After I put back the shirt that had fallen out, I crawled across the carpet to the bed. There was a chance the necklace was under it in a small jewelry box.

  I felt around under the bed until I touched something solid, and I tugged it out. But instead of a box, the thing I’d found turned out to be a folder.

  I furrowed my brow.

  What the hell was this?

  I couldn’t remember ever seeing the folder before, and I didn’t think my sister would keep any papers or anything too important under her bed with all the other random stuff.

  Shaking my head, I reached under the bed again, and this time, my fingers closed around a box that was small enough to contain the necklace.

  I opened the box.

  The silver necklace with the dolphin was nestled in it. I’d found what my father wanted. But as I pocketed the necklace, my gaze fell on the folder again.

  I should just put it back where it had been. It was probably nothing special.

  Sometimes, my sister would make sketches of some dresses and clothes, so maybe it was that.

  Or it was something personal, like a diary.

  Maybe even love letters.

  Not that I’d ever seen my sister write any of those.

  It was probably private, so I needed to return it to its place.

  I bit down on my lip. Would it be a huge breach of privacy if I just took a quick look?

  It was better if I found it and not my father, or someone who was going to throw it out once the apartment was sold.

  “Okay, Sofi,” I said, looking around the room as if she were standing there, like a ghost that I couldn’t see. “Let’s see what this is.”

  I opened the folder and a bunch of papers almost fell out of it. My frown deepened as I inspected the first one.

  These weren’t sketches.

  No.

  It was something more important.

  A contract.

  A marriage certificate?

  I blinked at it, and at my sister’s signature at the bottom of the page.

  What in the actual hell?

  My sister hadn’t had a relationship that was serious enough for her to marry someone, and she definitely hadn’t had a fiancé.

  So who the hell would she be marrying?

  But the name of the groom was empty.

  Had she been planning to marry someone? Someone I didn’t know about?

  Hurt briefly squeezed my chest. My sister had intended to marry someone and she hadn’t told me about it.

  That was just...

  I couldn’t understand what was going on.

  We’d always been close. She couldn’t keep things from me for too long. She would’ve definitely told me about something like this, except...

  She hadn’t.

  She hadn’t told me anything.

  Why?

  I flipped through the rest of the papers.

  There were bills for some very expensive dresses, perfumes, and even a car. All of them stated my father had been the one who’d bought her all those things, even though she’d insisted she’d taken a loan for the car.

  What the fuck?

  I did my best to ignore the feeling of betrayal, and I got to my feet so I could cross the room and get to my sister’s laptop that was on the desk.

  I’d never wanted to turn it on before, even though I was sure I knew her password, but now I needed to know what was going on.

  “Sorry, Sofi,” I said. “But you lied to me. I don’t know what the hell’s going on.”

  I waited for the laptop to turn on, and when I got past the welcome screen, I searched through the documents.

  At first, I couldn’t see anything interesting or suspicious, but once I opened one of her favorite chat apps, I found my father’s name on the list of conversations.

  Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I clicked on the conversation.

  Father: Princess, did you get my gift?

  Sofia: Yep. Love u! :)

  Father: Have you thought about what we talked about? He’s waiting for your response, as am I.

  Sofia: Idk yet. Marrying a stranger is a big deal.

  Father: He won’t be a stranger once you meet him, but this is a lifetime opportunity. He’s very rich and he needs a wife, young and pretty like you. He’s going to make your every dream come true, and if you said yes, you’d make your old man very happy.

  Sofia: Can u tell me his name?

  Father: Not here and now. I must know your answer first. He’s a very handsome man, and he’ll keep you safe.

  Sofia: K. Call u later.

  I stared at their exchange in wonder.

  My father had been trying to do what, exactly? Arrange a marriage for my sister? And she’d actually been considering it?

  What the fuck?

  But why would my father want her to marry a stranger? I didn’t understand any of this at all.

  I clicked on a few more things and stumbled upon my sister’s bank account statements that she’d downloaded. It was some bank I’d never heard of.

  A gasp escaped my throat.

  The transactions were huge, and they were all from some secret account that consisted of a bunch of numbers. No names anywhere.

  What the fuck was all this?

  I compared the date of the last transaction on the statement with the date of the conversation.

  It matched.

  My father must’ve been the one who’d been sending my sister huge amounts of money to some secret offshore account.

  But where he’d gotten the money?

  He’d always say he was between jobs, so I’d never really found out what he’d been doing, but this kind of money didn’t just fall out of the sky.

  My father had been doing somethi
ng shady.

  Something dangerous or illegal, or he wouldn’t have needed all those secret accounts to transfer the money to my sister.

  My thoughts flashed to that one time when my sister and I had been at a nightclub, and there’d been a raid for some reason.

  My sister’s eyes had gone wide and she’d been begging me to help her get rid of the drugs from her purse.

  I’d helped, and when I asked her why she had those, because I was sure she hadn’t been taking any herself, she said they were her friend’s.

  I’d believed her that day, especially since I hadn’t seen her do anything suspicious later. But I’d been busy too, and we hadn’t been going out together as much after that.

  What if the drugs had been my father’s? What if he’d been using her to sell the drugs to her rich friends from college?

  I blinked.

  It was like I suddenly didn’t know my sister at all. She’d been lying about so many things when it came to our father that I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

  But my father wouldn’t have refused to tell my sister the name of her potential husband if he’d had good intentions.

  If he only wanted her to marry rich, he would’ve set the two of them up so they could fall in love. And a rich guy wouldn’t just agree to marry someone he didn’t know, even if he needed a pretense wife for some reason.

  Wouldn’t my sister and the guy have been negotiating the marriage, rather than my father? We weren’t part of a culture where arranged marriages were considered normal either.

  So what other option was there?

  Some kind of crime organization, probably.

  Or a cult.

  Except, my father probably didn’t have any good reasons to get involved with a cult.

  But all of this was horrible, and my father was the vilest of people if he’d tricked my sister and lulled her into a false sense of security only to betray her as soon as it suited him.

  I reached for my phone to call my father and confront him, but I stopped myself.

  He obviously thought he’d been secretive enough since he’d sent me here and didn’t expect I would find anything.

  Even though I was curious, I doubted calling him out for what he’d done would help me.

  My sister was gone.

  My father was doing who knew what, but I was pretty sure it was something criminal, and he’d wanted to use my sister—the daughter he actually loved and adored—and marry her off, probably to another criminal, to get what he wanted.