Ava The light filtering through the thick curtains felt almost like a warning, as if it wasn’t really welcome in the chilly, lavish room. I slowly propped myself up, the heavy sheets sliding off me. My bare feet hit the cold marble floor, sending a shiver up my spine. The mansion was eerily quiet, broken only by the faint sounds of footsteps outside and the occasional clatter of dishes or hushed voices from the servants’ quarters. It was an odd kind of stillness, a weighty silence that made me feel like I was being watched. The sight of the perfectly made bed, the frigid marble floors, and the immaculate room made me uneasy. I had never spent the night in a place so meticulously arranged, so devoid of the usual chaos and noise of family life. The house was grand and stunning, but it felt hollow. I made my way to the window and pulled back the curtains to gaze out at the grounds. Vast, manicured lawns stretched out before me, with trees lining the distant edges. I noticed guards pa
Ava A few days had gone by, but the house felt more stifling than ever today. The silence was almost unbearable, and I had hardly seen Riccardo. This solitude made me feel trapped—like I was constantly being watched and never quite fitting in. I hadn’t heard a peep from my parents either. I couldn’t help but smile bitterly; they were probably thrilled to be rid of me. I had roamed the house before, searching for a hint of freedom, but it felt like I was just going in circles. Then I stumbled upon a hallway that led to a part of the house I didn’t recognize—a vast garden surrounded by ivy-covered stone walls. The gentle rustle of leaves in the wind was the only sound I could hear, and for a brief moment, I let myself think I had found a little escape from the weight of the mansion. I didn’t realize how far I had wandered until I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around quickly, my heart racing, only to see Riccardo stepping out of the shadows like a predator stalking its pre
Ava I slammed my bedroom door shut, leaning against it as I tried to catch my breath. The cool wood felt solid against my back, but my heart was racing—not just from the anger, but from the whole situation. Riccardo. He was cold, heartless, and unbearable. I swallowed hard and walked over to the window, staring out at the vast grounds. The guards, the suited men— the overwhelming feeling of being trapped. A knock broke my spiraling thoughts. "Ava?" It was Steph. "Come in," I replied, my voice strained. The door creaked open, and Steph peeked in. She had a smile on her face, but it faded the moment she saw me. "Okay, what happened?" she asked, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her. I plopped down on the edge of my bed, gripping the mattress like it was my lifeline. "Your brother happened," I said bitterly. Steph raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. "Ah, Riccardo." She leaned against the doorframe. "What did he do this time?" I hesitated, his icy stare still fr
AvaI hadn't laid eyes on Riccardo since that night. He had been keeping to himself, slipping into the background as if he was trying to avoid me or maybe just giving me space to sort through everything. I was left wondering what it all meant. Was he feeling guilty? Regretful? Or was it just another way to keep me on edge, letting me simmer in my own anxiety? Regardless, I was relieved not to have to deal with him.Today, the house felt unnaturally quiet, with the silence amplifying every step I took. My heels clicked sharply against the marble floor, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. I had spent the afternoon with Steh, but the mansion's walls felt suffocating, and I found myself wandering aimlessly. I craved exploration, something to distract me from the heavy expectations and the ever-present shadow of my fiancé.As I turned into another hallway, I spotted someone standing by the window, gazing out at the garden. The soft light streaming through the glass framed his figu
AvaI’d rather not stay, but I couldn’t argue. I stood there, frozen, my body shaking as I watched him drag Adamo down the hallway. I quietly followed them to the basement, a place I had only heard rumors about, my heart racing.The basement door swung open, and Riccardo shoved Adamo inside, slamming it shut behind him. The sound echoed through the house. I lingered just outside the door, trying to catch my breath, my hands trembling.I had no clue what was going on, but a sick feeling of dread washed over me.Riccardo came back to me, his eyes burning with rage, and without saying a word, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me down the stairs after him. I stumbled to keep up, my body shaking as I went deeper into the cold, dimly lit space.Was he going to punish me? How would he do it? Would he kick me like my dad always did? Would he hit me in the face? I was terrified. Absolutely scared out of my mind. Riccardo swung the basement door wide open, revealing Adamo kneeling in the middle o
RiccardoThe basement was colder than normal, the air thick with the metallic scent of iron and a sense of dread. I lingered there long after Ava had stormed out, her defiance echoing in my mind like a curse. No one dared to follow her—not the guards who stood frozen against the walls or my siblings. They all waited for me to give the next order, but I stayed silent.What had she done to me?Why am I feeling this way? I shouldn’t. I should hate her. She and her family is the reason the woman I love is dead. I should be exacting my revenge on her and her family.I made my way upstairs and locked myself in the study, brushing off Bento's curious looks and Steph's worried glances. I poured myself a drink, watching the amber liquid swirl in the glass as if it held the answers I desperately needed.Her face wouldn’t leave my mind—the fire in her eyes mixed with fear, the sharpness of her words. She was scared, and I wasn’t sure how to process that.Actually, that’s not true. I knew exactly
AvaThe dining room felt like a fancy prison, with its elaborate furniture and sparkling chandeliers just reminding me of the life I was being pushed into. Every piece of pricey Hermes and every crystal glass felt like a weight on my chest. I had to resist the urge to squirm under the stares of my father and Riccardo's family as they sat at the long table, casually discussing wedding plans as if it were just another business deal. We had come back to America a few hours ago. I didn’t think it was about the wedding. I had prayed they would say it was all a mistake.But my hopes were shattered when I heard them talk about the wedding.Before long, I’d be stuck in a marriage I didn’t want, to a guy who had already shown he could never love me. I can’t figure out why he wants to marry me. Is this some twisted joke the universe is playing? If it is, it’s definitely not amusing.I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me. The fury I’d been holding onto since that night in the basement whe
RiccardoThe wedding was creeping up on us, and with each day that passed, the pressure felt heavier. I caught a glimpse of Ava as she walked by, her face blank and her posture tense. She seemed so uneasy around me now, and honestly, I couldn’t blame her.The last few days had been filled with this thick, uncomfortable silence. I was pretty good at pretending it didn’t bother me, at acting like it didn’t matter that she couldn’t stand me. But inside, there was this nagging guilt I just couldn’t shake off.That night at her parents' place, something went down. Her dad called her into his office, and I saw the color drain from her face as she glanced at her brother, clearly scared. I noticed Richard shoot a fierce look at their dad, almost like he was giving a warning. When Ava returned, it was obvious something was off. She didn’t say a word to any of us, kept her head down, and hugged herself tightly. When her brother wrapped his arms around her, she flinched.Did her dad hurt her? Or
AvaThe door clicks shut behind us, and just like that, we’re on our own. I wanted to be alone but Riccardo followed me as soon as I left his side. The buzz of the wedding—the laughter, the guests—vanishes the moment the room goes quiet. It’s just the two of us now.I glance at him, standing there, tall and imposing. The man I’m now bound to. But it doesn’t feel real; it feels more like a bad dream.I fold my arms, not even trying to hide the resentment bubbling inside me. This feeling has been with me since the start of all this. I didn’t choose this path, and he’s not going to make me follow his lead."Well?" I say, my voice cutting through the silence a bit too loudly. "What’s next, Riccardo? Are you still going to play your little games now that I have your last name? Can you just leave me alone?"His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he steps closer, and I stand my ground. There’s a chilling intensity in his gaze, but it pales in comparison to the fire buil
AvaI respond with a polite smile, but a wave of discomfort washes over me. It’s not the compliment that unsettles me; it’s the way he looks at me, taking an extra moment to appreciate every detail of my appearance. His gaze feels too intense, making me feel vulnerable, and the fact that he mentioned her.Before I can say anything, I sense it—a change in the atmosphere. Riccardo's body stiffens next to me, and I can almost hear the growl building in his chest. He inches closer, his presence consuming the space between us, his grip on my waist tightening.His voice drops to a low tone, colder than I've ever heard. "Be careful," Riccardo warns sharply, his words slicing through the polite vibe of the gathering. "Don't waste your time and never mention anything about Madeline again."The man blinks, clearly taken aback by Riccardo's sudden hostility. His politeness wavers, and he lets out a nervous laugh, quickly stepping back. "Of course, Mr. De Lucca. My apologies." He bows his head, c
AvaI opened my mouth to respond, but the door creaked open again, interrupting me."There you are!" Bento sauntered in, his smile shining as brightly as the chandeliers in the ballroom. "I thought you two had run off and left me hanging.""Bento." Riccardo growled, clearly losing his patience."What?" Bento shrugged, moving further into the room. "You've got half the guests wondering where the bride is and the other half trying to figure out who sent that lovely gift."I frowned, feeling a knot in my stomach. "Gift?"Bento's smile grew even wider. "Oh, you missed it? The flower in question is a black dahlia. Very dramatic. Definitely gives off 'we're not fans of your marriage' vibes."My stomach churned, and I looked at Riccardo. His face was unreadable, but I could see his hand twitching at his side, as if he wanted to grab something."Who sent it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper."There was no name on the card." Riccardo replied, his tone icy."It's a threat."Bento leane
AvaThe ballroom felt stifling. The crowd swirled around me, glasses clinked, and the guests' watchful gazes weighed heavily, making it difficult to catch my breath. I slipped out through a side door, carefully holding my gown to avoid tripping, and found a quiet corridor.At last, peace.I leaned against the cool stone wall, shutting my eyes. The sound of my heartbeat echoed in my ears, drowning out the distant noise of the party. I struggled to steady my breath and regain my composure.The gown felt heavier now, the corset tighter, as if it were working against me. It didn’t matter how beautiful it was; I felt confined. I felt like a princess trapped in a cage.A faint but sharp scent of roses lingered in the air, reminding me of the black and white bouquet I had carried earlier. The black roses reflected how I felt right now.Why couldn’t he love me? It might have been easier if he did, but deep down, I knew Riccardo De Lucca would never see me that way. To him, I was just his fian
AvaThe ballroom was awash in shades of black, silver, and white, with the gentle clinking of champagne glasses and the hum of conversation creating a lively atmosphere. As I glanced around, I felt the weight of many gazes on me—some filled with admiration, others calculating, and a few outright judgmental. I could catch snippets of my family's whispers. How could she marry her sister’s fiancé? Was this her plan from the start? Her sister must be rolling in her grave.But the key thing to remember was that they weren't seeing Ava Parker anymore; they were seeing Mrs. De Lucca.I barely sipped the champagne in my hand, the delicate glass quivering slightly. My dress sparkled with every step, its silk fabric both comforting and a stark reminder of the recent events."Breathe, Sorella," Steph whispered as she joined me, her dress glimmering with each movement. She linked her arm with mine, providing a steadying presence."I am breathing," I replied, forcing a small smile."Barely," she m
RiccardoI've definitely seen her before—always in stunning dresses, looking flawless. But this time... it feels different. As if I see her for the first time for who she really is.As soon as she appears, my heart does something I really don’t want it to. It flutters, soft and unexpected. I quickly push it down, hiding it under my iron grip of control. She's finally making her way down the aisle toward me, and all eyes are on her. But honestly, I couldn't care less about them.The white gown hugs her curves in a way that's almost sinful, the corset lifting her chest, while the long, flowing skirt trails behind her like a snowy river. Her lips are a delicate pink, but it’s her eyes—those deep green ones—that pull me in. They’re wide and anxious, but there’s something else lurking there too. Something wild. Something I intend to claim.Her father holds her arm tightly, guiding her forward, but she’s avoiding my gaze. She glances at Richard first, then Steph, and finally Bento. And then
AvaI can feel my dad's grip on my arm, firm and unyielding. The weight of my dress feels like an anchor, dragging me down, yet my feet move automatically, as if I’ve rehearsed this moment countless times in my head. The gentle swish of the silk and lace accompanies my every step, matching the rapid beat of my heart.The long aisle stretches out before me, illuminated by rows of tall white lanterns flickering gently, casting a dreamlike glow over the crowd. The grand hall is a blend of black and white, with soaring ceilings that seem to reach the sky. Everything is meticulously arranged, every detail in place, but it all feels surreal, as if it doesn’t truly belong to me.As we near the entrance, I steal a quick glance at my dad. His expression is as stoic as ever. There’s no comfort in his grip, no warmth—just a chilling reminder of my obligations. This is my destiny, I remind myself, trying to calm my racing heart. This is what I have to do.The front row is filled with familiar fac
AvaThe ceremony was about to start any moment now.A gentle knock interrupted my thoughts. Before I could reply, the door slowly opened, and Amara De Lucca stepped in.Her arrival instantly changed the atmosphere in the room. Dressed in a stunning dark green gown that sparkled under the lights, she moved with a quiet elegance. Her grey eyes softened when they met mine."Can I have a moment with you?" she asked softly.I nodded, holding still as she came closer. She reached out to adjust a loose strand of my veil, her hands resting lightly on my shoulders."You look absolutely beautiful, mio figlio," she said, her smile warm yet carrying an undertone I couldn't quite identify."Thank you," I replied, my voice feeling small.She took a step back, her hands neatly clasped in front of her. "I wanted to talk to you before you leave this room. There’s something important you need to know." My heart raced at her serious tone, but I tried to remain calm. "What is it?"Amara paused, her gaze
RiccardoI stood in front of the mirror, gripping the collar of my white dress shirt while I adjusted my cufflinks. Each motion felt intentional and precise. My silk tie was perfectly knotted, as usual, and my dark suit hugged my body just right, tailored to perfection. My broad shoulders filled it out well, the sharp black fabric slicing through the air like a predator on the prowl. The suit was flawless, the white shirt underneath crisp, and the black jacket smooth and polished.My hair was slicked back with just the right amount of gel, dark strands falling into place as they always did, never out of order. The roughness of my jawline was softened by a clean shave I had just done minutes ago. But something felt off. Not today.I wasn’t anxious in the way a man should be on his wedding day. No, I felt something different—distant. Detached. I could sense the weight of the day pressing down on me, but it wasn’t the ceremony that troubled me. It was the reality of the life I was about