My footsteps reverberated throughout the quiet hall as I ran my fingers over the cold iron railing. I had trembling fingers. The lavender scent of the air was a far cry from the fear that was rising inside of me. Important always meant terrible in my household when my father called me to his office—he never called unless absolutely necessary. I had a feeling something wasn't right.The last time I was called, it was to let me know that my older brother, Dante, was being sent to America. And just like that, he was gone. I haven't seen him since.Then it was my turn.My heart hammered so loudly that I could barely hear my own thoughts as I stared at the heavy oak door. I was aware in my heart that I had no idea what was waiting for me on the other side, but I had a gut feeling that something negative was there. I prepared myself and knocked, barely creating a sound that was more than a whisper in the silence.The cold, commanding voice inside said, "Entra."I swung and shoved the door op
It was a stuffy vehicle ride.My hands were gripping the leather so firmly that my knuckles were getting white as I sat in the backseat. Roberto, my father's driver, seemed to sense the tempest building within of me as he silently kept his eyes forward. Florence, the lovely city where I had grown up, seemed strange to me as I watched the streets go by in a whirl of color, like a cage closing in around me.My thoughts were so loud that I could hardly hear him over everything else. Next day. Leonardo Ricci and I are meeting tomorrow.My gut twisted at the thought. I had only heard rumors and whispers about him, never really seeing him in person. brutality, deceit, and aggression. With an iron grip, he oversaw his kingdom, and now I was going to be bound to him for the remainder of my days.As the automobile drove down a long, winding road and approached the gates of a massive estate that loomed in the distance, my heart beat in my chest. My breathing became labored. That was it. Ricci's
As requested, I spent the night in Ricci's residence.I didn't get any sleep.Not even a second.One of the anonymous men in black suits led me to a guest room after I left the study, but the term "guest room" seemed a joke. It resembled a prison cell more than anything else, complete with polished wood and silk blankets. I remained there for what seemed like hours, gazing out the window into the wide, icy blackness outside the estate walls, as the door clicked shut behind me.The sensation of his eyes on me persisted. Leonardo had already gauged my value based on the way he had regarded me. As if I were a piece in whatever perverse game he was engaged in.Perhaps I was.I was startled out of my reverie by a knock on the door. I whirled, anticipating one of Leonardo's goons, or worse, Leonardo himself, and my heart jumped into my throat. But it was a woman when the door opened. Her dark hair had silver strands, and her eyes were keen and perceptive; she was older, perhaps in her fiftie
I watched the steam rise from my unfinished cappuccino while I sat in the rear of the café. The outside world seems so typical. People were passing by, having fun, and going about their daily lives as if nothing had happened. As if they weren't stuck in a nightmare from which they couldn't escape.As though I wasn't.Gia was eyeing me with that expression in her eyes as she swirled her drink across from me. When she sensed I was going to break, she always had the one.She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, saying, "Spill it." "You're suppressing something, and I won't let you go until you tell me what's happening."With a sigh, I combed through my hair. Even though the sun was streaming through the café windows and giving everything a lovely glow, it didn't make the pit in my stomach go away.What was I meant to say about this? How could I explain something to her that even I found difficult to comprehend?With a sour tone, I blurted out, "I'm getting married."Gia blinked,
I could feel the weight of it all as soon as I entered the restaurant. The sound of glasses clinking and soft conversation blended with the aroma of roasted garlic and herbs. It was meant to be familiar and reassuring. But it felt like a prison tonight. The shiver that was creeping up my spine was too strong for the cozy glow of the candlelight.I saw Leonardo already seated at the table with my father. Wearing his typical fitted suit, my father appeared very relaxed, as though this were just another informal family meal. He took a slow, peaceful sip of his wine. However, Leonardo was another matter.He sat there like a king on his throne, exuding power in every subtle movement. He didn’t have to say a word, but his presence alone commanded the room. The waiters even appeared to be more careful around him, as if they were worried about taking a wrong step. The whole place seemed to give way to his will. With every step becoming more difficult, I forced myself to move in the direction o
Isabella stared at her reflection in the ornate full-length mirror, barely recognizing the woman who gazed back at her. The wedding dress—a custom Valentino creation of ivory silk and delicate lace—hugged her figure perfectly. Too perfectly. It felt like a beautiful cage."You look stunning, Isabella" whispered Maria, the elderly maid who had been assigned to help her prepare. Her wrinkled hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the cathedral-length veil.Isabella met the woman's eyes in the mirror. "Thank you," she replied, her voice hollow. She wondered if Maria knew what this wedding truly was—not a union of love, but a business transaction sealed with her body and freedom as collateral.The door opened, and Gia slipped in, her bridesmaid dress a shade of burgundy that matched the Ricci family colors. Her face was a mask of practiced cheer, but her eyes betrayed her concern."They're almost ready for you," Gia said, approaching carefully. When Maria stepped away to retrieve the bou
The ballroom had gone silent, hundreds of eyes watching the confrontation. Salvatore's face flushed with humiliation and rage, but the fear in his eyes was unmistakable."Perfectly," he spat, backing away. "Enjoy your wedding, Ricci."As Salvatore retreated, conversation gradually resumed around them. Isabella realized she had been holding her breath and exhaled slowly, trying to process what had just happened. Leonard had defended her—not as a possession being threatened, but as a person being disrespected. The distinction was small but significant.Leonard turned to her, his dark eyes searching her face. "Are you alright?""Yes," she answered, surprised to find it wasn't entirely a lie. "Who was that?""Salvatore Conti. He controls most of the shipping routes along the southern coast." Leonard's hand came to rest at the small of her back again, guiding her toward a quieter corner of the ballroom. "We have... history. He's testing boundaries.""Using me," Isabella said flatly.Leonar
He took a measured sip, studying her over the rim of his glass. "I didn't bring you into my home, into my life, merely for the pleasure of forcing myself on an unwilling bride." His voice hardened slightly. "I have higher standards than that."Isabella stood straighter, lifting her chin. "So what exactly are your standards, Leonard? You've made it clear that I'm your property, a political alliance sealed in blood and paper. What role does my willingness play in any of this?"Something dangerous flashed in his eyes—not anger, exactly, but a predatory focus that reminded her exactly who she was dealing with. He set down his glass and approached her slowly, like a wolf circling wary prey."Let me be clear," Leonard said, stopping close enough that she could smell his cologne—sandalwood and something darker. "Our marriage is real, legal, and permanent. You are my wife. That means certain things are expected of us both." He lifted a hand, and she flinched slightly, but he only traced the a
Isabella woke to sunlight streaming through partially opened curtains and an empty space beside her. The sheets on Leonard's side were cool to the touch; he had been gone for some time. A note rested on his pillow, written in a strong, precise hand:{Business calls early. Breakfast on the terrace at 9. Don't be late.}She glanced at the elegant clock on the bedside table: 8:17. Just enough time to shower and dress. As she rose, she noticed a small box that hadn't been there the night before, wrapped in silver paper with no bow or card. Inside was a platinum bracelet, delicate but substantial, set with emeralds that matched her eyes. Not diamonds—the traditional choice—but something more distinct, more specific to her.A claim, not a gift. A beautiful shackle.Isabella slipped it onto her wrist regardless, admiring how the stones caught the light. If this was to be her life, she would embrace its luxuries while searching for its weaknesses. She would learn the rules of Leonard's world
He took a measured sip, studying her over the rim of his glass. "I didn't bring you into my home, into my life, merely for the pleasure of forcing myself on an unwilling bride." His voice hardened slightly. "I have higher standards than that."Isabella stood straighter, lifting her chin. "So what exactly are your standards, Leonard? You've made it clear that I'm your property, a political alliance sealed in blood and paper. What role does my willingness play in any of this?"Something dangerous flashed in his eyes—not anger, exactly, but a predatory focus that reminded her exactly who she was dealing with. He set down his glass and approached her slowly, like a wolf circling wary prey."Let me be clear," Leonard said, stopping close enough that she could smell his cologne—sandalwood and something darker. "Our marriage is real, legal, and permanent. You are my wife. That means certain things are expected of us both." He lifted a hand, and she flinched slightly, but he only traced the a
The ballroom had gone silent, hundreds of eyes watching the confrontation. Salvatore's face flushed with humiliation and rage, but the fear in his eyes was unmistakable."Perfectly," he spat, backing away. "Enjoy your wedding, Ricci."As Salvatore retreated, conversation gradually resumed around them. Isabella realized she had been holding her breath and exhaled slowly, trying to process what had just happened. Leonard had defended her—not as a possession being threatened, but as a person being disrespected. The distinction was small but significant.Leonard turned to her, his dark eyes searching her face. "Are you alright?""Yes," she answered, surprised to find it wasn't entirely a lie. "Who was that?""Salvatore Conti. He controls most of the shipping routes along the southern coast." Leonard's hand came to rest at the small of her back again, guiding her toward a quieter corner of the ballroom. "We have... history. He's testing boundaries.""Using me," Isabella said flatly.Leonar
Isabella stared at her reflection in the ornate full-length mirror, barely recognizing the woman who gazed back at her. The wedding dress—a custom Valentino creation of ivory silk and delicate lace—hugged her figure perfectly. Too perfectly. It felt like a beautiful cage."You look stunning, Isabella" whispered Maria, the elderly maid who had been assigned to help her prepare. Her wrinkled hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the cathedral-length veil.Isabella met the woman's eyes in the mirror. "Thank you," she replied, her voice hollow. She wondered if Maria knew what this wedding truly was—not a union of love, but a business transaction sealed with her body and freedom as collateral.The door opened, and Gia slipped in, her bridesmaid dress a shade of burgundy that matched the Ricci family colors. Her face was a mask of practiced cheer, but her eyes betrayed her concern."They're almost ready for you," Gia said, approaching carefully. When Maria stepped away to retrieve the bou
I could feel the weight of it all as soon as I entered the restaurant. The sound of glasses clinking and soft conversation blended with the aroma of roasted garlic and herbs. It was meant to be familiar and reassuring. But it felt like a prison tonight. The shiver that was creeping up my spine was too strong for the cozy glow of the candlelight.I saw Leonardo already seated at the table with my father. Wearing his typical fitted suit, my father appeared very relaxed, as though this were just another informal family meal. He took a slow, peaceful sip of his wine. However, Leonardo was another matter.He sat there like a king on his throne, exuding power in every subtle movement. He didn’t have to say a word, but his presence alone commanded the room. The waiters even appeared to be more careful around him, as if they were worried about taking a wrong step. The whole place seemed to give way to his will. With every step becoming more difficult, I forced myself to move in the direction o
I watched the steam rise from my unfinished cappuccino while I sat in the rear of the café. The outside world seems so typical. People were passing by, having fun, and going about their daily lives as if nothing had happened. As if they weren't stuck in a nightmare from which they couldn't escape.As though I wasn't.Gia was eyeing me with that expression in her eyes as she swirled her drink across from me. When she sensed I was going to break, she always had the one.She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, saying, "Spill it." "You're suppressing something, and I won't let you go until you tell me what's happening."With a sigh, I combed through my hair. Even though the sun was streaming through the café windows and giving everything a lovely glow, it didn't make the pit in my stomach go away.What was I meant to say about this? How could I explain something to her that even I found difficult to comprehend?With a sour tone, I blurted out, "I'm getting married."Gia blinked,
As requested, I spent the night in Ricci's residence.I didn't get any sleep.Not even a second.One of the anonymous men in black suits led me to a guest room after I left the study, but the term "guest room" seemed a joke. It resembled a prison cell more than anything else, complete with polished wood and silk blankets. I remained there for what seemed like hours, gazing out the window into the wide, icy blackness outside the estate walls, as the door clicked shut behind me.The sensation of his eyes on me persisted. Leonardo had already gauged my value based on the way he had regarded me. As if I were a piece in whatever perverse game he was engaged in.Perhaps I was.I was startled out of my reverie by a knock on the door. I whirled, anticipating one of Leonardo's goons, or worse, Leonardo himself, and my heart jumped into my throat. But it was a woman when the door opened. Her dark hair had silver strands, and her eyes were keen and perceptive; she was older, perhaps in her fiftie
It was a stuffy vehicle ride.My hands were gripping the leather so firmly that my knuckles were getting white as I sat in the backseat. Roberto, my father's driver, seemed to sense the tempest building within of me as he silently kept his eyes forward. Florence, the lovely city where I had grown up, seemed strange to me as I watched the streets go by in a whirl of color, like a cage closing in around me.My thoughts were so loud that I could hardly hear him over everything else. Next day. Leonardo Ricci and I are meeting tomorrow.My gut twisted at the thought. I had only heard rumors and whispers about him, never really seeing him in person. brutality, deceit, and aggression. With an iron grip, he oversaw his kingdom, and now I was going to be bound to him for the remainder of my days.As the automobile drove down a long, winding road and approached the gates of a massive estate that loomed in the distance, my heart beat in my chest. My breathing became labored. That was it. Ricci's
My footsteps reverberated throughout the quiet hall as I ran my fingers over the cold iron railing. I had trembling fingers. The lavender scent of the air was a far cry from the fear that was rising inside of me. Important always meant terrible in my household when my father called me to his office—he never called unless absolutely necessary. I had a feeling something wasn't right.The last time I was called, it was to let me know that my older brother, Dante, was being sent to America. And just like that, he was gone. I haven't seen him since.Then it was my turn.My heart hammered so loudly that I could barely hear my own thoughts as I stared at the heavy oak door. I was aware in my heart that I had no idea what was waiting for me on the other side, but I had a gut feeling that something negative was there. I prepared myself and knocked, barely creating a sound that was more than a whisper in the silence.The cold, commanding voice inside said, "Entra."I swung and shoved the door op