Chapter 2: Shan Moretti

Chapter 2: Shan Moretti

Feliza stood before her mirror, adjusting the pristine navy-blue dress she had chosen. Each movement sent ripples of anticipation and apprehension through her.

Her reflection conveyed a mix of nerves and curiosity, the weight of the impending dinner etched across her face. Her hands trembled slightly as she fastened the buttons, her gaze flickering between her reflection and the ticking clock on her wall.

"It's okay... " she reminded herself.

"Feliza, dear? Are you ready?" Her mother's voice rang through her ear as she peeked into her room.

Feliza forced a smile. "Yes, Mom."

"I see. So, let's go?"

They descended the stairs where her father awaited at the end of the staircase. "Come on, I will escort you."

She gulped. She didn't know if she should feel grateful or saddened about the whole situation...

"Please, behave yourself, Feliza." Her father's strict voice resonated through the quiet car. She flinched. "Do not bring shame to this family. We've already agreed to the marriage and settled everything."

She fidgeted with her fingers. "D-Don't worry, Dad."

"Good," he said with a stern look. "You're a very obedient child. That's why we never regretted adopting you."

His words pierced through her heart.

"Do whatever it takes to convince him to marry you, alright?" he reminded her. "I don't want you coming home empty-handed."

She just nodded.

Upon reaching the designated meeting place, she couldn't help but feel nauseous. Her steps echoed the rhythm of her pounding heart.

She had never seen this man's face nor heard his name. Apparently, he's a young, successful businessman, and he's most probably like a nerd, a young man with a frail body whose IQ far exceeds the norm.

Or so she thought...

As Feliza entered the VIP room of a 5-star restaurant, she found herself unable to move upon seeing a completely different man in the room.

Dumbfounded, her breath hitched.

Am I in the wrong room? She mentally asked herself, brows furrowing in confusion. Did the receptionist mistakenly lead her to a different room?

The man before her exuded confidence, a commanding aura that left her speechless. His piercing gaze held a depth that momentarily stole her words.

For some strange reason, her heart was beating incredibly fast and loud. Taking a step back, Feliza was about to exit when she suddenly heard a deep, manly voice.

"You're in the right room, Ms. Gray," he said as if reading her thoughts.

A gasp left her lips as her eyes slightly widened in surprise.

She... didn't expect it.

The corner of the man's lips tugged up a bit as he smirked.

Blinking rapidly, she fixed her composure and flashed a reluctant and nervous smile. "H-Hi," she timidly said, reaching out her hand for a handshake. "My name is Feliza... Gray."

He gave her a subtle nod before taking her hand in his. She flinched in surprise as a bolt of electricity traveled through her spine. His hand was calloused and warm—a total contrary to her cold, delicate, and trembling ones.

"Shan Moretti," he introduced himself, his voice deep and clear, his eyes locking onto hers.

She couldn't help but to check him out. Shan Moretti possessed a commanding presence, standing tall with an air of confidence. His dark, tousled hair framed a chiseled jawline and defined features. His intense blue eyes held a depth that seemed to captivate anyone who met his gaze. His tailored suit accentuated his powerful build, exuding both intimidation and an intriguing allure.

"Have a seat."

He let go of her hand and pulled the chair for her. She had to blink her eyes again in order to process his words. When she realized it, her cheeks burned from embarrassment before she hastily sat down on the chair that he pulled.

"T-Thanks. So, uh... how do you feel today?" she dumbly asked.

"Good," he curtly replied without tearing his gaze off her.

Feliza couldn't shake the perplexing thought that swirled through her mind. With his undeniable wealth and captivating features, why would he be in search of a wife?

He was the embodiment of wealth and allure—a man whose presence commanded attention, whose wealth and looks could beckon any woman into his embrace.

And there she is... completely nobody.

"I-I see..." she stammered. The waitress came and took their orders, saving her from the awkwardness she felt.

"Okay, uh... Mr. Moretti, what is it that you do?" Her tone was tentative, but curiosity danced in her eyes.

Shan, momentarily diverting his attention from his plate, flashed a subtle smile. "Well, that's quite the question, isn't it?" he remarked casually, a touch of enigmatic charm in his voice. "Let's just say I manage a few business interests. Keep me on my toes, you know?"

Feliza nodded, her curiosity sparked. "Must be quite a handful," she commented, holding back numerous questions swirling in her mind. She struggled to gauge how to engage with him.

"It certainly has its moments," Shan replied enigmatically, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes. "But let's not talk about it. Tell me about yourself, Ms. Gray."

"You can call me by my name," she insisted, feeling uneasy being addressed by her surname.

"Alright, then, Feliza," he responded, sipping his red wine. The way he said her name sent a curious shiver down her spine.

"I... I'm a college student," she stuttered, blushing. "Journalism, third year."

"Hmm," he hummed, his gaze locked on her green eyes.

Caught in his captivating yet unsettling presence, Feliza felt a chill despite his striking appeal. There was an intriguing mix of allure and hidden danger around him that both fascinated and unsettled her.

"What drives you, then? To study that... degree."

Feliza smiled faintly, sensing Shan's genuine interest. "Journalism, mostly," she responded, a spark lighting up her eyes. "It's about uncovering the truth, giving a voice to those unheard—it's what drives me."

She flushed.

Shan raised an eyebrow, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "Journalism. A noble pursuit," he acknowledged, nodding thoughtfully. But a mysterious edge tinged his voice. "Seeking the truth in a world of full of lies—is that your aim, Feliza?"

"In a way, yes," Feliza admitted, a faint hint of reluctance laced her words. "Everyone deserves to have their story told, their truth unveiled. It's a responsibility I take seriously."

He nodded his head, his eyes were staring intently at her. He was as if looking directly through her soul. She felt naked under his scrutinizing gaze.

"I wonder," Shan mused, his gaze unwavering, "is your search for truth just a job, or does it come from something personal?"

Feliza hesitated, sensing a hidden depth in Shan's question. "I... It's both, I suppose," she admitted, her voice wavering slightly. "Truth matters, whether in the public eye or behind closed doors."

Shan's scrutiny remained, his gaze unyielding. "And what about trust?" he continued, his tone deliberate. "Do you easily trust people, Ms. Gray?"

Feliza paused, feeling a chill run down her spine at the directness of his inquiry. "I try to," she answered cautiously, her mind racing with questions about Shan's own trustworthiness.

He chuckled, making her suddenly stopped and stared at him. He took the glass of champagne and put it in his lips. Before drinking, her smirked at her and said, “Only people with weak minds will lose if they trust people easily, Feliza.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, looking at her straight in the eyes. “Trust is a very dangerous thing in this world, Vixen. Be careful about that.”

His words hung heavily on the air as she stared at him. She dared not speak as his words hit right through her core.

Trust, huh?

As they conversed further, Feliza struggled to extract information from him. Shan remained distant and guarded, often silent, merely absorbing her words. He exuded an air of mystery, his demeanor composed and precise, almost as if every action was calculated. This air of secrecy only served to deepen Feliza's intrigue and desire to unravel more about him.

"You cold?" Shan inquired, brow slightly furrowed.

"No—" Feliza began, but before she could finish, Shan rose abruptly, shedding his suit and draping it over her shoulders.

"You should have brought a jacket," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down her spine.

Her astonishment rendered her speechless. Their proximity made her hold her breath.

"T-Thank you," she stammered after a while, her cheeks flushed crimson.

Returning to his seat, Shan smirked, observing her internal struggle with amusement.

As the dinner wrapped up, Feliza couldn't help but be captivated by Shan's intriguing character and composed demeanor. Despite her initial skepticism about the arranged marriage, she felt an unspoken connection forming between them. Their interaction felt surprisingly harmonious, as if their two completely different personalities complemented each other.

He was like a mystery that I wanted to unravel to so bad…

As they both rose from their seats, Shan moved closer to Feliza, a stark contrast in their sizes making her feel perplexed and somewhat anxious.

"Hold on," he announced, his voice steady, eyes piercing.

Feliza stopped abruptly, meeting his gaze filled with an unreadable intensity.

Shan Moretti extracted a diamond ring from his pocket and smoothly slid it onto her finger, his movements calculated and deliberate.

"W-What—" Feliza stuttered, taken aback by the sudden gesture.

"I need a wife, Ms. Gray," he declared bluntly, his voice carrying an air of mystery. "I believe you're more than capable of playing that role, aren't you?"

She hesitated momentarily, surprised by his directness. Her mind racing to with tons of questions. Why me? Out of all people?

"Y-Yes..." she replied.

Her ability to choose had been taken away long ago, ever since she was adopted. The future she hoped for seemed to crumble before her eyes, slipping further from her grasp.

Shan let go of her hand with a satisfied smirk on his lips. "Good girl."

As Shan walked away, his powerful silhouette exuded dominance and control, making Feliza feel as if the world was beneath his feet.

Just as Feliza was ready to leave, the suit on her shoulders slipped to the ground, catching her attention. "Wait, Mr. Moretti!" she exclaimed, trying to get his attention. He glanced back, giving her a questioning look. She approached him with a hesitant smile, holding his suit. "You forgot this," she said softly. "Thank you."

"Keep it," he insisted, causing her heart to skip a beat.

"N-No, please, take it back. I appreciate your earlier gesture, but I don't need it," she stammered nervously.

He hesitated, his expression shifting slightly.

As Feliza tried to return the suit, she took a deep breath, realizing how much control he held over her life. He's going to be her husband before she even knew it.

"Feliza." His finger touched her chin as he lifted her face to meet their gazes, his face leaning down close to hers. His mesmerizing blue eyes stared at her intently—burning her from deep within. "You're quite something, ain't you?"

She took a step back, surprised at the proximity of their faces. "M-Mr. Moretti—"

Shan suddenly pulled away, just enough distance to let her breath. He wrapped the suit jacket around her bare shoulders, and a faint movement caught her eye—the shifting of his sleeve, flashing something familiar that drew her gaze on it.

"Keep it, my Vixen,” he whispered before he turned around and started walking away.

Yet Feliza still stood there, pondering about what she just saw. For some reason, she could feel her knees beginning to weaken as her eyes lingered on the tattoo that was inked on his arm.

Just watching Shan Moretti walk away suddenly left her feeling uncertain about their arranged marriage.

There, on his arm, was an emblem she never expected to see. In just a split second, Feliza was pretty clear about what she saw. It was the same emblem worn by those who ruthlessly took the lives of her biological parents fifteen years ago...

Her heart suddenly raced. Feliza couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that there might be more to this man than meets the eye—a complexity veiled behind his indifference. And it was too late for her to run away because she was caught before the chase could even begin.

A bitter chuckle escaped her lips as she weakly held onto the table, her knees weakening as the realization finally sank in.

Shan Moretti... is a Mafia.