Crimson 6

I stood at the entrance of the dining room, my stomach twisting into tight knots. I had hoped this day would never come, or maybe, somewhere deep down, I had known it was inevitable. The reality of it was like a weight pressing on my chest, harder to bear with every passing second.

The large dining room was already filled with the usual family and close associates—people who were here for business as much as for family. The familiar faces were now strangers to me, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at any of them. My father, Giovanni Moretti, was seated at the head of the table, his posture as commanding as ever. His eyes met mine as I stepped inside, and though he smiled at me, it didn’t reach his eyes. His smile was calculated, just like everything else he did.

“Isabella,” he greeted me in his usual calm voice, “Come, sit.”

I forced my legs to move, but every step felt heavier than the last. I sat down at my designated place beside my father, trying to look composed, but inside, I was falling apart. I glanced around at the familiar faces, the people who were so willing to pretend everything was normal, even though we all knew what was coming.

Giovanni cleared his throat and looked at all of us around the table. “Thank you all for coming,” he began, his voice as steady as ever. “Today, I have some important news to share regarding the future of the Moretti family.”

The room fell into a quiet hush. It was always like this when Giovanni spoke. Everyone listened intently, hanging on his every word. He had always been a man who commanded respect, and for the first time, I realized just how much control he truly had over my life.

“This is a decision that will shape the future of our family and solidify our position in the world,” he continued. “After much consideration and discussion with the Volkov family, I have arranged for Isabella to marry Damian Volkov.”

The words hit me like a slap in the face. A cold wave of shock spread through me, followed by a sharp surge of anger. I could feel my body trembling as I struggled to keep my composure.

“What?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, though it felt like it echoed through the room. “What did you just say?”

Giovanni’s gaze softened slightly, but there was no apology in his eyes. “This marriage is necessary for the survival of our family, Isabella. The alliance with the Bratva will strengthen us. It’s the best thing for our future.”

I wanted to shout, to tell him how wrong he was, but I couldn’t. The words caught in my throat. Instead, I clutched the edge of the table, my fingers digging into the wood as I tried to control the shaking of my hands.

“Do you even care what I want?” I asked, my voice trembling with frustration.

Giovanni’s gaze never wavered. “This is not about what you want. It’s about what is necessary for the family. For your safety. For our legacy. Damian Volkov is the right choice, Isabella. You’ll see.”

“No.” I stood up suddenly, my chair scraping across the floor, the noise jarring in the heavy silence. “I won’t marry him. I don’t even know him.”

The room shifted uncomfortably, but no one said a word. Everyone knew better than to interrupt my father. Everyone except me.

“You don’t have to know him, Isabella,” Giovanni said with an air of finality. “This is a strategic alliance. This marriage will ensure our place in the world. It’s not about love, it’s about power. I’ve done what’s best for you. I’ve done what’s best for the family.”

I felt a hot rush of anger flood my chest, making it hard to breathe. “I am not a pawn, Papa!” I shouted, my voice shaking with the weight of my words. “I am not some bargaining chip you can use to win a game! I am your daughter!”

Giovanni’s expression hardened, his tone becoming steely. “And as my daughter, you have a duty to this family. You have a duty to the Moretti name.”

A bitter laugh escaped me, sharp and hollow. “A duty? You think that’s what this is? You think I owe it to you to marry a man I don’t even know, to give my life away just to secure your precious family’s future?”

“Enough,” Giovanni snapped, his voice low and dangerous. He stood up, the chair scraping harshly behind him. The rest of the family remained silent, watching us like this was some private performance.

“Sit down,” he ordered, and for a moment, I was paralyzed by the weight of his authority.

I couldn’t move. I felt trapped. There was no way out of this, no escape. The Moretti name had already shackled me, and now my father was throwing away the last bit of choice I had.

With a deep, shaky breath, I slowly lowered myself back into the chair, my hands still gripping the edge of the table. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I could feel the tears threatening to spill, but I refused to let them fall.

Giovanni studied me for a moment before continuing, his voice calmer now, but still firm. “This is for your safety, Isabella. The Bratva is powerful, and this marriage will protect you. It will ensure that you are never left vulnerable. You are the key to our family’s survival.”

I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell him how unfair this was, how much it hurt to be treated like a tool, a means to an end. But the words wouldn’t come. All I could do was sit there, silent and defeated, knowing that there was no way out.

“You will marry Damian,” Giovanni said, his voice final. “This is the only way.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words died on my lips. He wasn’t listening. He hadn’t been listening to me from the start.

“Your life is no longer your own,” he continued, his eyes cold and unwavering. “This is not about your happiness, Isabella. It’s about the future of the family. You will do your duty, and in return, we will protect you.”

I wanted to scream, to fight back, to run far away from this world that demanded so much from me. But I couldn’t. There was no running. No escaping.

I felt a lump form in my throat, and I quickly swallowed it down. “Fine,” I said, the word tasting bitter in my mouth. “I’ll do it.”

Giovanni’s eyes softened for a moment, like he was pleased with my compliance. But I saw the look of victory in his gaze, the smug satisfaction that I had given in.

“Good,” he said, the word laced with approval. “You’ll see, Isabella. This will be the best thing for all of us.”

But as I sat there, the weight of my father’s words hanging in the air like a dark cloud, I knew the truth. It wasn’t the best thing for me. It wasn’t even close.

This wasn’t about family. This wasn’t about loyalty. This was about control. And I was losing mine.

---

As I sat there, watching my father’s smug expression, I realized that the life I had once dreamed of was slipping away from me. I was no longer the girl who could dream of freedom. I was a tool, a bargaining chip, and no matter how hard I fought it, the reality of the situation was undeniable.

The Moretti family had made its choice. My father had made his choice. And I had no choice but to comply.

I didn’t know how I would get through the coming days, the wedding, the union with Damian Volkov, but I knew one thing for sure: my life would never be mine again.