Chapter 7 - My bride.

V E L I N A

"You can't do this!! You can't!!" I scream, my voice breaking as tears stream down my face, my chest tightening as I try to process what is happening around me, my mind struggling to catch up with the reality that my own father has just handed me over to a man who walked into our home with guns drawn and threats ready on his lips.

No one answers me.

No one even looks at me.

"We will have everything prepared here before I leave this house." Luciano lets out calmly, as though this entire situation is nothing more than another arrangement, another deal being finalised between families.

My father nods once in response, a quiet exhale leaving his nostrils as he looks back at Luciano.

"Understood." He answers quietly.

I stare at him, disbelief tightening my throat as I wait for him to change his mind, to show hesitation, to say anything that suggests this is not final.

But he continues.

"I will have one of our lawyers present to prepare the marriage certificate as well as an officiant for the ceremony..." my father adds, his voice strained, yet he continues speaking as though this is a normal conversation.

"And while you're at it, prepare my 15 million. I'd like it wired to me. Then prepare all the necessary paperwork for your territories, and their properties," Luciano adds without hesitation.

"Of course," my father answers, his tone tight, yet he does not argue further.

I feel my chest tighten even more as I listen to them discuss my future as though I am not even standing here, as though I am no longer a person but a transaction being finalised.

"Father, please..." I call out, my voice weaker now, my hope slipping with every passing second.

But instead of my father responding, Luciano turns toward me.

He walks toward me slowly, his expression thoughtful as he studies me again, and I feel my breath catch as he approaches, my heart racing despite everything that is happening, despite the fear tightening my chest.

I watch the way he moves, gulping quietly, not out of fear, but because I'm taken by the confidence in his steps, the way his gaze analyses me as though he is trying to understand me. That's when he stops right in front of me, towering over me with ease as his eyes search mine. He then lifts his hand slightly and motions once to his guards, making them release me immediately.

My arms drop to my sides as I remain frozen in place, unsure of what he intends to do now, unsure of whether I should step back or remain still.

He continues watching me, his gaze moving across my face, and I feel my breath grow uneven again as I stand there, unable to look away from him. He then reaches out slowly, his fingers settle against my cheek, and I freeze instantly, the contact gentle yet unexpected, his palm warm against my skin as he tilts my face slightly upward.

I should pull away, I should protest...

But I don't.

I find myself frozen and remain still as he studies me, his gaze moving across my bruises, the cut on my lip, the ash still clinging to my skin and my hair.

My breath hitches as I realise how close he is to me, how easily he touches me, and how calm he appears while I struggle to steady my breathing. My heart races faster, and I hate myself for it, because it's not only out of fear, but in some twisted way... excitement... excitement from being close to a man this handsome...

He sighs quietly before finally letting go of me.

"I want my bride to be cleaned up and whatever wounds you inflicted on her tended to." He orders calmly, and my heart drops at his choice of words.

His bride.

The title settles heavily in my chest, and I feel my throat tighten as the reality of what is happening sinks in even further. But not only that, he has directly challenged my family for what they've done to me, and has let me know, in front of all of them, that he actually cares for my well-being.

"Then, I want her dressed in white..." he adds, his voice calm, decisive, just as his eyes travel over me one last time.

I glance toward my father instinctively, and his jaw is tight, and I notice the brief tension in his expression before he turns toward my mother and sister, motioning toward them with a small tilt of his head.

They rise to their feet quickly, looking at each other fearfully as they walk past Luciano and make their way over to me. My mother approaches first, her expression strained, her eyes briefly meeting mine before she reaches for my arm. Kyla steps forward beside her, grabbing my other arm, her grip tight, just as they both begin guiding me out of the room.

My legs move automatically, though my mind still struggles to process everything that just happened, my heart pounding as I glance back toward the room.

Luciano stands where I left him, watching me.

His gaze remains fixed on me, and I feel the tension return instantly, my breath catching as I hold his gaze for a moment longer, my feet slowing without me meaning for them to,, as if I am trying to hold onto this moment even though I know I shouldn't, even though I know he is the very reason I am being dragged out of this room to be married against my will...

Then I am pulled further toward the exit, and the distance between us begins to grow.

My father turns away from me already, his attention shifting back to Luciano as though I am no longer relevant, as though I have already been removed from the family, and at this point, I stop resisting. Because what is even the point anymore?

The strength leaves my body slowly, and I allow my mother and Kyla to lead me forward, my thoughts racing as I try to understand how everything changed so quickly, how I went from standing in that room as their daughter to being escorted away to prepare for a marriage I never agreed to, my future now decided by a handshake that I had no say in...

My feet feel unsteady as we reach the passageway, and I glance back one last time, unable to stop myself, needing to see him again even though I hate that instinct.

Luciano still watches me.

And once again, I feel that pull settle in my chest, confusing and unwelcome, my breathing turning uneven as fear and awareness mix in ways I do not understand.

I force myself to look away.

"While my woman gets ready, how's about you and I have a word, Don Russello..." is the last thing I hear Luciano say before I am led out of the room completely...