Chapter 6

Ava

The atmosphere in our family dining room was heavy with unease. My hands felt sweaty as I fiddled with my napkin, trying to fold it neatly even though I was trembling.

My dad called earlier about the contract signing happening tonight. I wished it was just a bad dream, but it was all too real. When he barged in this afternoon, furious and shouting about how Riccardo had gone back on their original agreement, I briefly thought maybe the deal was off.

He stormed straight to his office, and I could hear him yelling at someone on the phone. I knew he was furious, and I had learned long ago not to push his buttons.

One of the maids handed me a sage green dress, and I recognized it as the same one Maddy wore a few years back when she confessed her love for Riccardo to Dad. I shut my eyes, letting a tear slip down my cheek. When will I get to be Ava again? I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up.

I shook my head, trying to push those memories away.

Looking around the dining room, everything was perfectly set—crystal glasses and shiny silverware sparkling under the soft light of the chandelier—but it felt stifling.

Mom sat next to me, her usual warmth feeling like a distant memory. She stared straight ahead, her lips pressed tightly together. I wish she would stand up to Dad just once, but I knew that would never happen.

Richard, sitting across from me, was tapping his fingers on the table, clearly agitated. I could sense his frustration radiating off him.

The De Luca family was at the far end of the long table. Riccardo sat at the head, his expression as icy as ever, his dark eyes scanning the room without really focusing on anyone. Even though he was quiet, his presence seemed to fill every inch of the space.

As soon as he walked into our house and his gaze fell on me, I could see the anger in his eyes. I totally get it. I was dressed in his late fiancée's dress, and my hair and makeup were styled just like hers used to be.

In that moment, I wished I could be anywhere but here.

Dad cleared his throat, and it was like a spotlight turned on. "We're here to talk about the contract," he said, his voice low but steady, the way he always did when he meant business. He didn’t look too pleased either. He shot a glare at Riccardo, who just stared back blankly.

His eyes scanned the table, making sure we all felt the weight of what was about to happen.

"This union isn't just a formality. It's the bedrock of our future. There’s no room for error." The air felt heavy around me. My heart raced as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. That last part was directed at me. And to top it off, we were here to talk about marriage. A contract. A life that wasn’t truly mine.

I stole a glance at Richard; his jaw was tight, and his eyes were filled with fury. He didn’t need to say a word—I could feel exactly what he was thinking. His protectiveness was more evident than ever.

Dad gestured to the contract in front of him. That thick stack of papers felt like a silent reminder of everything happening to me—everything being decided without my input.

"Ava," Dad said, breaking through my thoughts, "You’ll be moving in with Riccardo right away. After the wedding in six months, you’ll officially be his wife. Until then, you’ll live together and start your duties as his fiancée."

Move in with him? Share a roof with my late sister's fiancé? I felt like I was suffocating.

My stomach twisted in knots. I wasn’t ready for this life. I wasn’t ready to live with a man who had once been engaged to my sister. A man I was supposed to marry in just six months.

I didn’t reply right away. I just couldn’t. My mind was a chaotic mess, with thoughts clashing for attention.

Richard shifted in his chair, his voice slicing through the quiet. 

“What exactly does she need to do in this ‘union’, Papa? What are her responsibilities?”

Papa’s gaze snapped to Richard, his face hardening. “She will support Riccardo in every way needed. Attend events. Uphold the family’s reputation. Produce heirs. The contract lays out these expectations clearly.” In other words, Papa meant she should act like Maddy.

The word heirs echoed in my head, sending a shiver down my spine. Was I really expected to have his children? It felt like a punishment for something I hadn’t even done.

Richard leaned in, frustration creeping into his voice. “And what if she doesn’t follow these rules? What then?”

Papa’s face was unreadable as he replied, his tone steady. “There will be consequences, Richard. The contract is non-negotiable.”

I felt my chest tighten, each breath becoming more difficult as the reality of it all sank in. I wasn’t just marrying Riccardo; I was stepping into a world that had no room for my feelings or desires.

I turned to Riccardo, hoping for some sign of understanding. He sat there quietly, focused on the contract, his expression as cold as ever. He didn’t seem to care about anything happening around him. No anger, no concern—just indifference, as if it was all just business to him.

Finally, I found my voice, trembling but resolute. “What happens if I can’t meet these... expectations?”

Riccardo finally glanced at me, his look icy and calculating. “You will face the consequences,” he said, his voice low and almost a whisper. “There are no second chances.”

His words hit me like a knife. The heaviness of what he said was overwhelming. I felt so small and helpless, like I had no control over anything.

I quickly looked away, my eyes burning. It felt like I was losing grip on my own life, and there was nothing I could do to change it.

My destiny was already set, leaving me with nothing but questions and fears that no one seemed ready to address.

But Richard wasn’t finished. "What about her safety? What about—" he began, but Papa cut him off with a raised hand.

"This isn’t up for debate, Richard," Papa snapped, his eyes sharp.

"This is how it is. If you want to make sure your sister is safe, you’ll support her in this arrangement. No questions asked."

Richard tightened his fists but stayed silent. He looked at me, his eyes full of unspoken vows, and I could feel his anger and frustration radiating toward me.

Dinner dragged on, the conversation shifting to other topics, but my mind was stuck on the contract. The De Lucca family. The wedding. My future as a Mafia wife. The pressure was too much to handle.

The meal wrapped up soon after, and I made a hasty exit from the table. I couldn’t pretend everything was okay any longer. I needed fresh air. I needed room to breathe.

I rushed out of the room, my heart racing. Richard was right behind me, his footsteps loud in the silence.

I turned to him, my eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I can’t do this, Richard. I don’t know how. I don’t want this life. Why can’t he just let me be Ava? Why do I have to be her?"

"I know," he replied softly, his voice full of understanding.

He looked at me with so much love and concern. "But you’re not alone. I’ll always be here for you, sis. I promise."

His words should have brought me comfort, but they only made the burden heavier. I wanted to trust him, to believe he could shield me from this life, but deep down, I knew we were both trapped in this situation.

Richard pulled me in for a warm hug, and for a brief moment, I let myself relax in his arms. It was the only solace I could find, the only thing that made me feel like I wasn’t entirely isolated in this chaos.

Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that nothing would really shift. My future was out of my hands. It had already been mapped out for me. In just six months, I was set to marry Riccardo De Lucca.