Chapter 1 - Amelia

My world crashed down, and my heart felt heavy as I stared at the man I once called father. 'Once'—because he no longer deserved that title. I had used to think he would change, but now he was proving me wrong in this moment. All I could do was cry.

“You can't just marry me off. I'm not a commodity!” I screamed, but my voice came out croaky.

“It’s for the best, Amelia. I have so many enemies. Marrying you off is one of the best, easiest ways to ensure your safety—and mine as well,” my father said, grabbing a bottle of wine from the table.

“The local police, the FBI—you can hire them. You have the money! Am I only worth one week of surveillance to you?”

“You are my asset! All women are assets to their fathers!” My father's voice echoed through the room, filled with rage, but he choked on the wine in his cup. He coughed and took a seat, the air thick with tension.

I searched the room for my mother, hoping she would intervene, but the woman who always cowered under my father’s dominance was somewhere in the master bedroom, crying. He had hit her when she tried to argue for my freedom. “I choose what I do with you, and this is the best option so far…”

“Yes! Just like you had my sisters married off to political opponents who were way older than they are, just to gain their political connections and trust. Is this a game to you?”

“Lorenzo will protect you…”

“A mafia demon that the whole FBI has sworn to lynch? Father, can’t you just consider my feelings? I feel nothing for him.”

“You'll feel something for him when you start spending time together. You'll learn to love him. You're young; you'll adjust with time. This is the best option for you. Amelia, I’m sick of trying to talk sense into you…”

“And I’m sick of you being selfish and conceited! Sometimes I wonder if you're even my father…” A slap across my face sent me crashing to the floor, silencing me. I almost blacked out. It felt like a whole mountain had descended upon me. I curled my body, instinctively trying to protect my head, having grown accustomed to his violent ways.

“I do not want freckles on your body when Lorenzo comes to pick you up. He has to get you whole. Go. Pack your things. Your mother will help you. Lorenzo will come to pick you up this evening, and get your mind set; your wedding is in two days.”

I heard the thudding of his black leather shoes against the wooden stairs as he ascended to his room. “Don’t keep Lorenzo waiting,” he called out, his footsteps growing louder above me.

I sat up, holding my burning cheek where he had hit me, feeling feverish. I sobbed softly. It wasn’t the first time he had hurt me. I wouldn’t have felt it if the circumstances were different, but marrying the cold mafia of Chicago, a man whose life revolved around violence, felt like a death sentence. How could I spend the rest of my life with a man I felt nothing for?

I thought of running away. The only thing holding me back was the wooden door at the other end of the room, but to where? Chicago was a vast city, and it would take my father no less than three hours to find me, let alone Lorenzo, who had eyes and ears everywhere. I had tried escaping before, and it had landed me in the hospital.

I gulped.

My mother rushed down, grabbing my hands and helping me up while straightening my clothes.

“Lorenzo will be here soon. We have to pack.”

“Mum, do you think this is right? You—I don’t want this,” I said, still clutching my burning cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“Talk to Father. There are other ways to ensure his safety than using me,” I pleaded.

“Your father... doesn’t listen to reason,” my mother said, her voice barely above a whisper. “He has his mind set on this, and I don’t know how to stop him.” Tears began to spill down my cheeks, and my mother quickly wiped them away. “Lorenzo will protect you. It’s not as bad as you think,” she said, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“Letting someone I have no feelings for touch me?” One of my greatest fears was allowing a total stranger to take my virtue. This would be my first time, and I had always imagined it to be romantic, but now…

“Do what?”

“I—never mind.” I sighed, defeated. “Please don’t let Father do this to me. Krith and Emily are already in hell.”

“I know it’s your first time, but I promise you’ll love it after two tries.”

Love what?

“Mother, I know you’re not in support of this. I know.”

My mother sighed, her expression heavy with resignation. She took my hand and began to pull me with her. “Don’t get hit again, Amelia. Please just do as he says.”

As she helped me pack my clothes, I sulked in the corner. I smoothed the hem of my shirt when our eyes met. “Mother, please…”

“I can’t do anything,” she said weakly. “Lorenzo will be here soon. Just respect and obey him, and you won’t feel bad. You’ll be fine.” She sniffed back her tears.

“What about my freedom?”

Just as my mother’s lips parted to reply, the door swung open, and my father walked in, dressed in dark Italian suits and his favorite dark leather shoes. He always exuded that funeral aura with his somber attire.

“Lorenzo is here.”

He didn’t say anything more—just turned and walked out of the room.