Mi Amor

Beside me, Alessandro remained as stone-faced as ever, his gaze fixed ahead as if none of this concerned him. I wasn’t surprised—after all, kindness wasn’t exactly something I expected from my so-called husband.

"Mrs. Amato, we are here. You can get down, or do you still want me to drag you out of the car?" Alessandro said in an unexpectedly sharp tone.

I clenched my fists, taking a deep breath to steady myself before stepping out. And there it was—my new home.

Or, as my stupid husband would call it, my new house.

The towering mansion loomed over me, its cold, pristine walls feeling less like a dream and more like a cage. I swallowed hard. Welcome to your new life, Antonia, I told myself. Let the nightmare begin.

The first thing that caught my attention was the massive, black gate—taller and more imposing than the one at my former house. It stood like a silent guardian, keeping the world out and trapping those within. As the car rolled inside, my eyes wandered over the intricate designs on the towering walls, the elegant designer chairs strategically placed, and the sleek black marble dining area. A small, shimmering pond accentuated the space, the soft sound of cascading water creating an illusion of serenity.

From outside, I could hear the gentle trickle of a waterfall, flowing effortlessly and connecting to every corner of the house. It was breathtaking, a masterpiece of luxury and precision.

But it lacked something—something crucial. Love.

The house, as perfect as it seemed, felt cold. Hollow. A lifeless shell of wealth with no warmth to fill its grand halls.

Yet, I smiled to myself, a mischievous glint in my eyes. Because one thing was certain—I would change that. I would bring warmth, joy, and life into this house… if only Alessandro would let me.

"Now listen, Mi Amor," Alessandro said, his voice sharp and unwavering.

My heart skipped a beat. Did he just call me that? For a split second, I almost believed there was a sliver of warmth beneath his cold exterior.

But I was wrong.

"I hope you weren’t expecting roses and flowers, because that’s not going to happen," he continued, his tone laced with irritation. The momentary illusion shattered, replaced by the familiar sting of disappointment.

He pointed down the long corridor, his posture rigid, authoritative. "Your room is on the left side. Mine is on the right. You will not enter my room under any circumstances, and I will not step into yours."

His blue eyes bore into mine, void of emotion. "You are not allowed to show your face as my wife in public. The only exceptions are family gatherings, official occasions, and whenever I require a plus one."

Every word felt like a chain tightening around my freedom.

"Everything you need is in this house," he added indifferently. "If you require anything more, Aldo will get it for you. He is at your service—anytime, any day."

Then, his voice dropped lower, colder. "And one more thing… If any of these rules are broken, the offender will face consequences."

His gaze lingered for a moment, as if daring me to protest.

"That’s all. Good night," he said, turning away without a second glance, leaving me standing there, stunned, trapped in a reality I never chose.

BAM!!! I slammed my room door shut, the sound echoing through the vast, empty hallway. My hands trembled, my chest heaved, and before I knew it, my knees hit the floor.

Tears streamed down my face. What have I done? What have I gotten myself into?

I sobbed into my palms, my whole body shaking with frustration, with fear. But then, something—something—felt different. Through the blur of my tears, I lifted my head, my gaze sweeping across the room.

And that’s when I saw it.

The walls—painted in the most beautiful shade of lilac, my absolute favorite. My wardrobe—already filled with luxurious clothes and perfumes, the exact brands and scents I adored. I turned to the window, my breath catching slightly. It opened up to a stunning, eco-friendly garden, just like the one I used to dream about. And then, the bathroom—the marble floors and walls, gleaming, perfect.

My tears slowed. My heartbeat steadied.

I frowned, confused. How did he know?

I dragged myself onto the plush bed, sinking into its comfort, exhaling a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Maybe—just maybe—Alessandro wasn’t entirely heartless after all.

A small smile tugged at my lips. At least I have this.

And for the first time that day, I felt the tiniest bit of relief.

As I rushed toward the bathroom, the scent of warm vanilla and lavender filled the air, wrapping around me like a comforting embrace. The water in the tub shimmered under the soft glow of the lights, bubbles floating lazily on the surface, inviting me in.

I slipped into the bath, the warmth soothing my tense muscles, washing away the exhaustion of the day. A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I let my body sink deeper, my head resting against the edge.

But just as comfort began to settle in, a thought crept in—Dad.

My chest tightened. How is he doing? Is he getting the care he needs?

A single tear slipped down my cheek, disappearing into the water. How will I even see him? I’m not allowed to leave this house. The realization hit me harder than I expected.

And then came the sharpest pain of all—He didn’t even get to walk me down the aisle.

I shut my eyes, swallowing back the lump in my throat. It had always been his dream—to see me in a wedding dress, to hold my hand as I took those steps toward my future. And yet, he wasn’t there. He didn’t get the chance.

I curled my fingers into fists, the water rippling around me. I have to find a way to see him. Somehow.

But for now, all I could do was let the warm water cradle me, as my heart ached for the father I so desperately missed.

Crash!