Chapter Two

Emma

This meeting went differently than I wish it would. Yet, as I listen to Luca hiss his annoyance with my presence, I internally laugh that this is precisely how I imagined he would react to me.

After being told to sit back down, I internalise my musings, thinking back to that day six long years ago.

As a child, I didn't understand the concept of love, I don't think any child can. That was until I met the boy who lived just next door to me. He was older than me, but we grew up together, and as time passed, my feelings for him only grew more substantial and more robust. He was an ever-present embodiment of protection, lurking often and saving me from myself just as frequently. I fell for him completely and utterly, with a deep emotion that I couldn't comprehend then.

However, tragedy struck just as quickly as my love for him had blossomed. My father was threatened with a gun to his head by his very best friend and none other than Luca's father to get me away from the boy I was betrothed to for fear we would act immaturely and prematurely. We were forced to flee our home in the dead of night without so much as a goodbye to anyone. My heart was shattered into a million pieces as I watched the house of the boy I loved disappear into the distance, knowing we would not see him again until I was called upon to officially tie our families together for eternity.

Though I always had that sliver of hope for the day we would come back together, Luca did not have such knowledge to hold onto because he had no clue what was happening around him.

It was typical that my virtue was promised to the very boy I was in love with, and unbeknownst to our parents that he had already staked a claim and taken such innocence only hours before Dimitri decided it was time for my parents to take me away and protect the innocence that was my virginity.

In the world of organised crime, the value of a mafia princess is often determined by her ability to maintain innocence and purity, which can be leveraged to forge powerful alliances between two prominent families. Unfortunately, my own virtue became a significant point of contention between my family and Luca's, as Luca was whom I was meant to be united in a matrimonial deal when the time was right. The stakes were high, and the pressure to maintain the illusion of my innocence was immense as my father vied to keep the twenty-plus year promise for his firstborn daughter to be Dimitri's firstborn son's wife. Yet, I still went ahead and allowed Luca to defile me out of wedlock because they had failed to tell me that Luca was mine in all sense of the word. Of course, we hadn't known about the deal struck between our fathers, and we were only acting up in childish lust, which we believed was love, when we decided to give each other the only thing we had to offer.

I remember my father muttering to my mother with a sense of urgency in his voice, "Dimitri demanded we leave before they get too close. He sees now what I said before; we should have waited for them to meet after they were of age." He was worried about something and wanted to ensure we were all safe. Yet, I was there in the backseat, keeping the most significant secret I had ever held tight in my mouth, vaguely recognising that perhaps I was the reason behind this swift move that came out of nowhere.

As we sat in the back of my father's SUV, my mother's words echoed in my mind like a broken record. "Emma's not stupid; she wouldn't give that before marriage," she had promised my father, trying to reassure him that I was not engaging in any immoral activities. Yet even her frown lines proved she feared we were fleeing from our home beside the Moretta family, the only other Italian mafia family on this side of the English Channel for a stoic reason.

Ironically, despite my father owning vast swathes of land across London, we had ended up living right beside our rivals. I used to think that it was a mere coincidence, that it was just chance that led us to this particular spot. But then, I couldn't help but wonder if something more sinister was at play for having us so close.

Had their plans been for us to fall in love all along?

And if so, why were they separating us then when we were living and breathing each other?

As I remained stoic in the back seat of the car, holding my sister's hand, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed and guilty by the conversation that was going on around me. It was only during that very car ride that I realised a shocking truth. I was promised to the other rivalling family before I was born.

As the heir to our family's business, I knew my future was set in stone. However, I had never expected to find out that our parents had actually planned my wedding almost sixteen years ago, on the day of my birth. The weight of that revelation was nearly too much to bear if it hadn't been for the fact that Luca was the one I was to marry.

Luca had been showing signs of worry and uneasiness, as if his decision to choose me as his partner would lead to some future complications. He looked at me often with pain in his eyes as if he believed he was setting me up for a future of pain, and no matter how much I tried to console him, he never shifted that look of pity.

However, the news of our promised engagement brought me a sense of warmth and comfort at that moment. The tension and anxiety we felt regarding our uncertain future seemed insignificant compared to the joy of knowing that we were meant to be together, both by fate and our own choice. The realisation that my entire life had been planned out for me in the best possible way, even though I had no control over it, made me feel grateful and content with my future.

I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease wash over me. I was about to turn sixteen in less than 48 hours. For some reason, it was now that my family seemed to be in a rush to get somewhere—anywhere away from the Moretta's that had me circling back to questioning my role in the decision happening around me. It was as if they were running away from Don Moretta, and I couldn't help but wonder why then. Guilt lancing through me that maybe someone had seen Luca and I, or our plans had been overheard and returned to either of our fathers.

Despite the uncertainty and fear that I had felt with the enormous decisions Luca and I had been making, there was one thing that I was looking forward to—marrying Luca. We had been planning it for months in secret, and we couldn't wait for my sixteenth birthday when we would finally get married with permission we were getting from my mother.

Her belief didn't totally align with the mafia; after all, she was an ordinary English girl who grew up without the mafia influencing her every move.

However, as the car jolted over the uneven terrain, my thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pain between my legs. I realised that we had broken the unspoken rule, the one that was not supposed to be broken—we had given in to our desires before my birthday and before the secret marriage we had planned and all for what? At that moment, I realised we should have waited, that it would have been better to wait.

The sex wasn't great; in honesty, it was over before it started, and I barely even caught my breath before Luca groaned out his pleasure whilst I reeled from the intense, sharp pain that was my hymen ripping. It seemed a far cry from my parent's frivolous hours of ear-curdling communions that surfaced every evening they could get their hands on each other. I sighed in contempt at the previous evening's choices but realised our parents were right, that as children in a world rife with chaos and uncertainty, we found solace in each other's arms no matter how meaningless our first time was. A stolen moment that could get us both killed. Our innocence and naivety only added to the moment's intensity, making it memorable.

We were both virgins, but in that moment, we gave each other the only thing that truly mattered—a connection that transcended the physical. It was a moment of pure vulnerability and trust, a rare and precious gift we shared when our lives were dictated from every direction.

As I reflect upon my past, I must admit that my actions were not always honourable to my family. My loyalty had always been to one person—to Luca- and that never boded well because we both were descendants of notorious mafia leaders, we had rules, and we had committed the gravest sin one could imagine.

Luckily, though, when the time comes, we don't have to lie about losing my virginity to him—only omitting the truth of the timeline. However, even if my life depended on it, I would never confess to losing my virginity before my wedding day, and I can only presume Luca is of the same stance.

I remember the endless car ride through the countryside with my parents. I was forced to endure their infinite bickering and heated arguments, which lasted for hours on end as I stayed as quiet as a mouse, intent on not drawing attention to myself for no good reason.

The situation was tense. My mother had raised her voice, seeking a resolution to the issue at hand as she was in my corner. She argued that an early marriage wouldn't be the worst thing to happen, and I prayed that she would win this argument. Luca and I shared a strong desire to get married, and it was evident to anyone with eyes for us where we were headed. My mother was right, but unfortunately, my father was a man from the mafia, and he had protocols instilled in him. He was determined to ensure we only married once the communion was needed.

My father knew matrimonial power only came after an heir was trained to take over the family. However, Luca wasn't ready yet, even I knew that. He still needed to prepare. Although he was more prepared than I was at that moment, he still couldn't kill without having nightmares. His consciousness still held a firm grip on his mind, no matter how his father would treat him.

Despite all this, that was one thing I loved about Luca. His heart was something he shouldn't have been born with, yet it beat at a fast pace within his chest. Every time I touched him, his heart's speed changed, which made me love him even more.

As I snap back to reality, away from the memory of that dreadful night holding me under its spell, I feel a deep sigh escape my lips. It's as if I'm being forced into the sports car precisely as my father had forced me into his SUV. The turmoil of emotions inside me feels like a raging storm, threatening to engulf me.

I can hear the loud purring of Luca's car behind us, his foot heavy and incautious on the accelerator. He's like a live wire, ready to snap at any moment. I'm sure it's because I'm within meters of him after having committed treason against him despite the fact it was never my choice to leave him.

It's evident that he despises me.

But as my father used to say, there can't be hate without love.

Luca must wield love and hate for me because he seems overtly unhappy in my presence.

His feelings towards me haven't dwindled, though, nor have mine towards him.

As I sit beside Luca, the soon-to-be Don and my soon-to-be husband, I can't help but think of how time has transformed him, the both of us. Once a carefree young man with a heart full of hope and joy, he is now a hardened and ruthless leader. I was trained to be by his side, to protect and honour him, and to give him a slice of happiness amidst the constant worries of being in charge.

From the moment we left that night, I knew that I was destined to be nothing more than a trophy wife to the reigning Don, and I was more than happy with that fate, of my sole purpose to bear heirs for Luca and to provide him with pleasure and solace amidst the desolation of our world.

But even as my parents, sister and I ran away from him six years ago, mere hours after taking his innocence and giving him mine, I couldn't ignore the fact that it would cause a rift between us that could never be repaired. And not of my own choice, yet I was cognisant that the fallout would be my burden to bear alone.

As we sit here now, I keep my face forward, refusing to say a word or even try to get Luca's attention because I see the rift our parents caused, and I hate it. I can feel his anger seeping from every pore, and I clutch the door in earnest, trying to keep my anxiety at bay as his driving becomes erratic and dangerous.

I can see the cogs grinding against one another in his eyes as he tries to find a way out of this entrapment we've found ourselves in. Once upon a time, he would have accepted it without blinking, but now he is a different man. The weight of his position has changed him, and our separation has caused him to become distant.

And I fear that I may never truly know the man he has become, which saddens me deeply.

The sound of his fist colliding with the steering wheel resonates loudly in the small confines of the car. The shrill honking of the horn adds to the chaos as we navigate through the winding roads of the countryside. Despite the commotion, I try to remain composed, not even flinching or blinking as he growls in frustration.

He turns to face me, his eyes searching for a chink in my carefully constructed armour. However, I'm not the same person I once was, either. I have been trained to handle his volatile moods, but more importantly, I have been trained to safeguard his interests, including our children.

As we navigate the treacherous terrain that will be our relationship, I will remain vigilant, ready to protect whatever assets we might have, even if it means jeopardising my safety.

My father went to great lengths to make sure that I was equipped to withstand any form of torture, be it physical, mental, or emotional. He spared no expense in this regard, ensuring that I had the necessary tools and resources to endure any hardship that might come my way for being the Don's queen and that I would not break under pressure. His unwavering commitment to my ability to protect the oaths of the mafia we serve will be protected for as long as my soon-to-be husband reigns. And with that, I have always been confident in three things.

I will be the next Don Moretta's wife.

I will be the only woman to give birth to his heirs.

I will be the next woman to reign beside a Moretta as an equal.

Despite the daunting task ahead, I am determined to rise above my fears and become as strong as my husband, the Don himself. My father instilled in me a fierce resilience through rigorous training and even torture, shaping me into the person I am today for this task alone.

As I look at the man Lucas has transformed into, doubt creeps into my mind, and I fear I may fail in my last attempt.

My father desires our union to be eternal, but I am not sure if I will even survive my future husband before we reach our destination.

Suddenly, his hand reaches out and grips my throat tightly, causing me to gasp for air. I could have screamed but knew better than to provoke his wrath. Men like him crave the screams of a woman under their rule.

Through gritted teeth, he hisses at me, "How dare you come back here after what you did?"

I remain completely still and silent, my only focus being to hold my breath and preserve the air within my lungs. My sole objective is to survive long enough for Luca's desire to inflict harm upon me to dissipate.

I observe myself breaking down his tough exterior, staring into his eyes with a blank expression, angering him. We remain in this state for almost two minutes, and I hold my breath. As I peer into his eyes, I can sense the determination in his gaze, as if he realises he is approaching a threshold he doesn't want to cross.

As the seconds tick by, his grip on my neck loosens. Although I desperately need air to stay alive, I take a careful breath instead of a deep gasp, determined to show him that he hasn't managed to hurt nor scare me as he had hoped.

I refuse to display any weakness, even if it means that I may never make it to our wedding day.

"Tell me," he sneers, "what does it feel like to lose me, pretty little plaything?"

I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. "I never lost you, Luca. And deep down, you know that," I reply, my voice steady despite the fear that's coiling in the pit of my stomach because right now, it does feel like I lost him.

"You lost me the day you decided to leave," he growls, his anger palpable.