Daughter of the Mafia

Rosie Fay-Donovan

It was almost nine in the evening and I was seated by the table alone for what felt like hours now.

My life at this house had been nothing but solitude ever since my father died. One would think I was being overly dramatic since I was married, but Archie Donovan wasn’t the type of husband someone would want.

He was incredibly handsome, that much was true. A built-up body, toned abs, a hypnotizing smile, and eyes in a tone of green I could never manage to describe.

But Archie had his demons, as much as I had mine.

“Mrs. Rosie, isn’t Mr. Donovan coming to dinner tonight?” Johnnie, our butler and also the only father figure I had left, asked, looking at me in a pitiful way I did not like.

He was constantly giving me this look as if I was someone worthy of his pity just because my husband was a sh*tty one. Johnnie had been around ever since I was born and he knew me, and this house, like the palm of his hand. He also knew Archie very well, since he was also around ever since he was a child.

“You always ask me this question, Johnnie, and I never have an answer for you. You know Archie doesn’t tell me what he does. If anything, you should be the one answering that question,” I replied bitterly.

It wasn’t supposed to come out as a harsh answer, but Johnnie knew I was just frustrated. He was used to me being like this every time Archie made me wait.

“You know what? Please ask Ruby to have the food served. I won’t wait for him any longer,” I added. “You two are more than welcome to join me if you want.”

Johnnie smiled softly at me but shook his head. “We've already eaten, Mrs. Rosie, but thank you. I’ll have your food served right away.”

I nodded, flashing him a smile in return as he left the room to do as he was told. I wasn’t particularly fond of having the food served on the table only for me, but this was a tradition that was hard to break in this house.

Johnnie was the first one to tell me tradition was a good thing and he refused to let me eat in the kitchen. He always seemed genuinely concerned that I’d break the cycle, so I let him have his way.

As soon as he left, I went back to my self-pity moment. Archie and I had been married for a little more than two years. We married a few months before my father passed away, and ever since, he took over the family business. That’s what he was trained his whole life for.

My father was one of New York’s biggest mafia bosses. Our family had run Manhattan, Staten Island, and the Bronx for decades, even before the Great Depression. We survived lots of things, mostly bad, but our family always thrived. It was in our blood to simply move on and get up from the ground whenever someone knocked us down.

Colby Fay—aka the White Fox—was always known as a great leader. He was also an amazing father to me. My mom died when I was still very young, and he never really told me the truth about her death. But he did an amazing job raising me. Johnnie and Ruby helped a lot too, especially since Dad had lots of things to deal with.

Being in the mafia was no easy business, no matter how glamorous the movies tried to portray it as being. But one thing was true, my dad was very protective of his family, and he did everything in his power to make sure I’d be taken care of whenever he wasn’t around anymore.

And that meant having me marry Archie.

Yes, an arranged marriage. That much the movies were not lying about. Dad wanted to make sure someone else would take care of things when he was gone since he never really intended for me to take over the family business.

That’s why he trained Archie ever since he was a kid to be the head of the house one day. Archie’s father—Mr. Logan Donovan—was my dad’s best friend and he had a debt with my old man that he paid off by handing his son to the mafia.

I could understand his reasons for doing so. My father had saved his life, and so he thought he owed him to do the same. If that meant his son losing his life to the underworld, so be it.

I could never hate Logan though. He was actually a good father to both Archie and Liam—his youngest son—and he always made sure that my father was also taken care of.

If anything, I was thankful for him.

I also didn’t hate my father for putting me in an arranged marriage. I liked Archie. I’d always been attracted to him. How could I not?

The man was the incarnation of perfection on Earth. He was not only handsome but also a very good fighter, an amazing businessman, incredibly skilled with guns and knives, and very good at keeping me safe and making sure I had everything I needed.

Except him.

I was a married woman, but I had never even been in the same bed as him. We never consummated our marriage just because he thought our relationship was simply professional. Which only made me annoyed and frustrated.

The food was laid before me by Johnnie and Ruby, and I nodded a silent thank you before they left. If I was being honest, I wasn’t even hungry. I just wanted to put some food in my stomach and head to bed before Archie arrived. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to him at all tonight.

As if summoned by my thoughts, I heard the front door slamming shut and Johnnie’s muffled voice greeting him. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before starting to serve some of the food on my plate.

It didn’t take long for Archie to show up in the doorway. I didn’t dare to look at him though. I was already pissed off at him for staying out late and not even having the decency to warn us. I knew if I let my anger get the best of me, I’d start an argument before he even got to the table.

“I am so sorry, Rosie. I did not mean to come home this late,” he started, walking inside and heading to his usual chair by the table.

I only hummed in response and kept my focus on my meal.

“How was your day?” he asked, trying to sound lively, but I could hear the hint of exhaustion in his voice.

That was the thing. Even though we were not as close as I’d want as husband and wife, I knew Archie more than I’d like to admit. I could tell when he was angry, frustrated, happy, or even bored.

I could also tell when he was sorry or afraid that he had hurt or upset me in any way. Truth be told, I didn’t make it easy on him either. But I didn’t care. We were this kind of couple mostly because of him. He never opened up to me or let me get too close.

And he couldn’t say that I didn’t try.

“Just the usual.” I shrugged. “Boring, normal stuff at work.”

I had a company called Cherry Fay Cosmetics, a gift from my father that I held dearly in my heart. It was always my dream to run a cosmetic company, and since I had nothing to do with the other businesses in the family, it felt nice to be useful and use my time to create something I liked. If I could brag about something, it was definitely that.

“Nothing new or exciting?” he pressed.

I decided to look at him before answering, which was obviously a mistake. His greenish-gray eyes were studying me from the other side of the table and I almost choked on my food.

I would never get used to the way his gaze made me feel. It was like it held some sort of control over me as if it could tell my body what to do or how to feel. It pissed me off.

“No, nothing new. What about you?” I raised my brows at him, trying to ignore the way he was still watching me.

Archie shrugged, bringing his glass to his lips and taking a sip from whatever it was that he was drinking. It looked like whisky to me, but there was no bottle in sight, so I couldn’t tell. Maybe Johnnie gave it to him when he arrived.

“Same old, same old,” he mumbled. “Your life is way more exciting than mine. I want to know about your day.”

I narrowed my eyes at him as I thought of a bitter answer to give him. But before I could say anything, his phone rang in his blazer pocket. It didn’t go unnoticed by me how he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before grabbing the device and looking at the screen.

A flash of worry crossed his eyes, but it vanished as soon as it came.

He answered the call and put the phone to his ear. I watched him intently while he listened to whoever was speaking on the other side. I knew it couldn’t be good. It never was at this time of the night.

And he also failed to hide his concern from his face. I saw his expression change and my heart instantly shrunk in my chest.

I should be used to this type of situation; my father had experienced them during my entire life. Having to leave during a birthday party just because something had happened. Or having to cancel on a ‘take-your-father-to-school’ day because he had to work.

I should be, but I wasn’t. I knew Archie was more than capable of taking care of himself, but I still worried about him leaving in the middle of the night to deal with whatever it was that summoned him.

“I'll be right there,” Archie said, before hanging up and darting his eyes at me again.

He seemed to be sorry. And he probably was. I didn’t doubt it. He just arrived home. He should be exhausted—he looked like it. I wish I could take him in my arms and comfort him, tell him everything would be okay. But I didn’t see that happening anytime in the future for us.

No matter how much I wanted to do it for him, that wasn’t the type of couple we were.

“Rosie…” he started, clearly trying to come up with something to say to excuse his leaving.

I simply shook my head but kept my eyes on him as he stood from the table.

“Just please be careful, alright?” I pleaded. “I can’t afford to lose you too.”

I saw a flash of something in his eyes before he grabbed the glass from the table, emptied the liquid inside of it, and nodded, leaving the room immediately after, not daring to look back at me.

Another night I was left by myself, praying that my husband would return in one piece to me.