Chapter 2:Twisted Moment

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 stronghold.

With a groan, the gates opened gradually, alerting me to the fact that once I was inside, there was no way out.

The huge mansion's chilly stone walls towered over me like a warning as the car pulled to a stop in front of it. My legs felt unsteady under me as I went outside and straightened down the dress I'd been pushed into. My father had picked out the rich emerald hue especially for this "meeting." An emblem of our family's strength and cohesion, he claimed. I detested it.

Two men in black suits stood guard at the entrance, their faces unreadable as I got closer. With a brusque nod, they let me through the enormous wooden doors.

A strange hush met me as soon as I entered. The home had stunning marble floors that mirrored the crystal chandeliers above, making it both magnificent and elaborate. It was cold, though. Dead.

Every step I took seemed to reverberate, alerting any predator hiding in the shadows to my existence. The atmosphere was tense.

A voice yelled out from ahead, "Miss Marino."

My breath caught in my throat as I came to a standstill. A tall, slender man with dark hair pulled back and keen features walked over. His stance was stiff, and his clothing was spotless. His intensity in looking at me made my skin crawl. Leonardo Ricci had to be this person.

However, it wasn't.

With a courteous yet aloof tone, the man added, "Mr. Ricci is waiting for you in the study." I didn't ask for his name, and he didn't introduce himself. It made no difference. All of this was irrelevant.

My pulse raced as I trailed behind him down the expansive hallways of the estate. The draft from the stone walls was frigid and I could feel it seeping into my bones; my mouth was dry and my palms were sweating.

We eventually came to a sizable pair of double doors. The man pushed them open after making one knock. He motioned for me to come in, but he didn't go with me.

I lingered there for a while, gazing into the space that lay beyond the entrance. It was an enormous study with floor to ceiling bookshelves. The man I had always feared meeting was sitting in the middle of the room, in an armchair near the fireplace.

Leonardo Ricci.

When I walked in, he didn't get up. Rather, he stayed sitting, with one hand on the chair's arm and the other grasping a glass filled with an amber liquid that looked like whiskey. His icy, businesslike gaze was fixated on me. His long lashes framed his storm-gray eyes, which gave the impression that they could look right through me to all of my doubts and concerns.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the chamber, feeling as though I was entering a lion's den. Under his attention, my skin prickled, and I momentarily lost my voice.

Signorina Marino,” he finally said, his voice low, smooth like velvet but with an edge of danger that sent a chill down my spine. “Welcome.”

I forced myself to nod, though my throat felt too tight to speak. Every instinct I had was screaming at me to turn around and run, to get as far away from him as possible. But I couldn’t. Not with my father’s expectations weighing on me, not with the future of our family resting on this cursed arrangement.

“You may sit,” Leonardo said, gesturing to the chair opposite him. His tone was casual as if we were just two old friends catching up. But there was something in the way he said it—an implicit directive, a reassurance that he was in charge in this space.

I moved cautiously across the room, attempting to control my breathing, and sank into the chair. The air was stuffy, even though the fabric felt soft under my body.

His eyes never left mine as he studied me for a moment. I could feel the weight of the prolonged silence bearing down on my chest.

“You don’t want this,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. His words weren’t a question, but a statement, and the way he said it made it clear that he already knew the answer.

I blinked, surprised at his candor. I was at a loss for words. Naturally, this wasn't what I wanted. How could I wish to wed such a man?

However, I found myself clenching my fists in my lap and forced myself to look him in the eye instead of acknowledging that. With a softer voice than I had intended, I added, "It's not about what I want."

With a small, amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips, he raised an eyebrow. Ah, the responsibility. Such a big load, isn’t it?”

I looked at him, not sure how to answer. There was something unsettling about the way he spoke as if he enjoyed watching me squirm under the weight of this situation. His amusement only made my skin crawl more.

With his eyes growing gloomy, Leonardo leaned forward a little and rested his elbows on his knees. His voice softened as he replied, "You're scared of me." "I am able to see it."

I tensed up, heart palpitating. "I should be, right?"

He cocked his head, weighing what I had said. I thought for a split second that I saw a hint of inquiry in his expression. Releasing himself from his chair, he remarked, "Fear is a useful tool." "People are kept in line by it."

I felt a lump in my throat form as I swallowed. Is that your perception of this marriage? to exert influence over me?

He laughed a low laugh, not a warm sound in his voice. "Mastery? No. However, you're not foolish enough to understand what's expected of you, are you?

His words hung in the air, and I could feel the weight of them settling around me like a chain. I wanted to scream, to run, to fight back. But instead, I nodded slowly, my hands trembling in my lap. “I know what’s expected.” Leonardo’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He raised his glass, swirling the liquid inside. “Good. Then we’ll get along just fine.” The room felt colder suddenly, the fire in the hearth doing nothing to chase away the chill that had settled in my bones. This was it. My fate was sealed in a single, twisted moment.