Bride of the Damned — The Weight of Tradition

What about you, Sophia? My mother made me enter the flower shooting. I had no choice. At least you shot my red roses. At least I know you. I will accept whatever you decide. They began planning a grand blood oath ceremony and inviting the Don and the commission as witnesses. It sounded as if they had planned it all along. Keep talking. I am done, Sophia whispered. Is Elena

said? Do not overthink it. Elaine is not sensitive. She's probably tired after the selection. So that was how useful the word tired was. It covered every hurt, ended every question, and left them without guilt. I walked into the yard. Enzo followed me with half a cigarette between his fingers. You barely ate. He laughed and put out the cigarette. Are you mad? I was honest. Yes.

Do not throw a fit. Family tradition caused this mess. Three bouquets flew at once. Who could tell them apart? I told you. Family rules stay here. County law is separate. Once we get our marriage Enzo, from the start, I told you I did not want to enter the flower shooting. It was a mafia family tradition.

Men used bullets to choose the women they wanted to protect. For centuries, everyone had followed this tradition. I respected it too. I had already chosen Enzo as my husband.

I didn't want to be bound to another man. But he had Marco enter my name. By the time I found out, I could not withdraw. Back then, I had no idea Sophia was entering too.

It already happened. Why bring it up now? Right. Nothing I say matters because you never listen. I'd known Enzo's look for eight years.