The Runaway Sister

nine | dating and marriage

"He won't leave me alone! It's not my fault, I don't even like him," I grumble. Luke raises an eyebrow, and directs me into his car this time. 

"We're close with the Italian, y'know," He says as we drive away from the school. Logan follows us, and security cars are surrounding us. I shrug. "So I guess you found the right boy to crush over. It'd be worse if it was the Russians' kid." 

I roll my eyes. "So I can't pick my husband out of love? I have to find one that suits your mafia?" 

Luke nods in agreement. "Yep. Precisely." 

———

I'm hiding in my room. Luke, being a backstabbing snitch, immediately told Zachary I was with Warren Bertelli, the youngest child in the Italian Mafia. A back-up heir. Zachary just shrugged, smirked at me, and said, "Well, well, little sis. Breaking hearts already?" 

I glared at the twins and Zachary, then stormed upstairs. I don't care if they saw me in the same proximity as Mr. Mafia. I don't even like him. So what's to the story? Nothing. They're just trying to find drama like a lot of primary school girls. 

I walk to my schoolbag I placed on the desk earlier, and pull out my books. The teachers assigned at least two hours worth of work. Sighing, I slump into the desk's chair and begin. The sun outside falls quickly, leaving me to resort to the lamp. 

The moment the clock strikes 6, Luke calls, "Ev! Dinner!" I stand up, and trudge downstairs. All of my brothers sit around the table, looking at me. I narrow my eyes at them, sitting down. I cross my arms over my chest, waiting for someone to talk. 

"Evelyn, you aren't allowed to have a boyfriend," Alexander says, glancing around at all of my brothers. They seem to nod in sync. "You will have the privilege to date at twenty-five." Cassian immediately glares at him. 

"No. Thirty-five," He adds. 

"What about forty?" Sullivan asks. 

Logan looks disgusted. "Hell no! Fifty." Zachary and Luke nod. 

"Alright, fine. Evelyn, when you're sixty, you'll be allowed to date," Alexander states in a formal tone. "We might be able to make exceptions, though." Zachary subtly shakes his head at me. 

"That's not fair. The twins are certainly dating," I argue. 

"You're a different case," Logan says. 

"And why is that?" 

"Because." That was Luke. I roll my eyes in annoyance. 

"I'm not following that rule." So I suppose they aren't going to marry me off? Then why was I brought back? To mess with me? 

"Yes, you are," Cassian says. 

I smirk. "Maybe I'll start dating Warren." That makes all of them narrow their eyes at me. I have no real intention of doing anything with Warren, but I can still push their buttons. 

Clearly, I succeeded. 

"I'll kill him with my bare hands!" Cassian roars. 

"I'll cut his head off with a chain saw," Zachary says calmly. 

"No one will be able to find his body," Luke chimes in sweetly. 

"I'll help," Logan says. 

The most level-headed brothers decide to stay out of the threats to Warren. He's their ally's son after all. They can't mess that up by killing on of their kids. 

"Evelyn is not being serious, of course," Alexander says to silence my murderous brothers. "The Bertellis are coming to dinner in Saturday. I expect all of you to he civil with Warren." My brothers grumble under their breaths. 

I smirk. 

———

I run through the winding, dreary halls. My brothers chase after me with chainsaws and guns. "Come back, sister!" Sullivan croons. I scream in terror. Mum's boyfriend joins them, wielding broken bear bottles. 

"Leave me alone!" I cry. 

A gunshot zooms past my head. Cassian laughs. "I'll kill you with my bare hands!" He yells. 

"I'll help!" Logan says giddily. 

Suddenly I'm on the floor, my arms pinned to my sides by Alexander. I kick and scream, but no one comes to my rescue. "You're weak! Useless! A burden!" Mum's boyfriend yells. My face begins to feel hot. Blood drips from my forehead. 

Sullivan stands in front of me, holding a gun. "There! She's gone! The burden is gone forever!"

I sit up, breathing heavily. Visions from my dream, and real life, flash through my eyes. My brain is tainted forever. 

How can I stand to live with killers? 

I need to leave. This time, they can't stop me. They can't find me. 

———

Daphne blabbers in my ear about picking out a new dress for the school dance coming up in two weeks. An arm suddenly appears next to me, and places a piece of paper onto my desk. 

Warren. 

I pick up the paper begrudgingly, my curiosity taking over me. What does he want? I want answers from him. He knows things about my mafia that my friends don't. He's the Italians' heir after all. 

I place the note in my lap and open it: 

Lily, 

Meet me in the garden at lunch. 

Yours truly, 

Loser

My heart drops. He heard me tell Aria about his new nickname? It happened in Italian, when I told her that Warren is a 'loser.'  She laughed, but I didn't realize she was also looking behind my head at the man himself. 

I fold the note back up, tapping my foot against the floor. The bell finally rings, releasing us to lunch. Daphne stays close to me, and asks, "So, you're going to the garden?" She smirks knowingly. 

"I just want to know what he wants to tell me. Nothing more," I say. She obviously read over my shoulder during class. 

"Sure, sure." 

I leave the hoard going to the canteen, stop by my locker to throw on my coat, then head outside. I weave through the sports equipment and find the garden surrounded by a white gate decorated by vines. 

Warren leans against the gate, and smirks when I approach him. "Well? Spill. What do you want to say to me?" I ask promptly. 

"You have an adorable accent, love," He says forwardly. I scoff. 

"Yeah, yeah, loser. Heard it before. Back to the topic. I have questions for you, too." 

"Don't you remember me from when we were kids? I'm offended, Lil." 

"No, I don't. If you won't cut the chit-chat, I will. Do you know if my brothers are planning a marriage for me with you?" I say, disgust in my tone. 

It makes sense for business. Our family's mafias are allies, but only by paper. Marriage alliances always work out the best. I know my biological mother was from the French Mafia, then she was given to my father, boss of the American Mafia. 

Uncle explained it rather thoroughly to me. He said I would be given to the Italians to solidify their friendship. 

Warren seems shocked by my question. He smirks and shrugs. "Maybe. Wouldn't that be nice, love? I'll get to look at you everyday." 

I roll my eyes at his false charm. "No, it won't, loser. I'm going to leave before that ever happens." 

"Why? I'm a wonderful person, love. Only killed three hundred men, no women. My sister has killed double that number." 

I feel ill. Nauseous. Disgusting. "That's horrid!" I scold, then turn on my heel and march back inside. 

I can't marry Warren. 

I can't stay in this life forever. 

I have to break free.