Chapter 8 - Get yourself cleaned up.

V E L I N A

"Mom..." I call out, my voice weak as my mother grips my arm tightly, pulling me through the hallway without slowing down, her heels echoing against the marble floors while Kyla walks beside us, silent and tense, her fingers wrapped around my other arm as though she expects me to fight back at any moment. My feet struggle to keep up with their pace, my legs still shaky from everything that happened downstairs, and I find myself stumbling more than once as they drag me forward without any concern for whether I can keep up.

"Be quiet, Velina..." my mother says sharply, not even glancing back at me, her grip tightening around my arm as she pulls me harder down the hallway.

"Mom, please don't let him do this, please don't let them take me..." I beg, my voice trembling as panic builds inside my chest, my words tumbling over each other as I try to make her listen, even though I already sense she has no intention of doing so.

"I said be quiet." She shushes me again, her tone harsher this time, and she pulls me forward more forcefully, making me stumble again as we continue moving deeper into the house.

I try to steady myself, my breathing uneven as I glance between her and Kyla, hoping at least one of them might soften, hoping one of them might show even a hint of concern for what is about to happen to me. Yet, both of them remain silent, their expressions tense and focused as they continue dragging me forward.

We finally reach my bedroom, and my mother pushes the door open without slowing down, shoving me inside with enough force that I stumble forward, barely managing to catch myself before I fall completely, hitting the floor with a harsh thud.

"This is all your fault." She says immediately, her voice cold as she steps into the room behind me, Kyla following closely after her.

I turn toward her slowly, disbelief settling across my face as I try to process her words, my breathing still ragged as I stare at her.

"W-What did I do...?" I ask quietly, my voice breaking as I struggle to stand back on my feet and understand how she can blame me for everything that just happened.

"If you hadn't attacked your sister, we wouldn't have been caught off guard. We wouldn't have been so busy dealing with the mess you created and would've anticipated the attack by the Diomanis!" my mother says sharply, crossing her arms as she stares at me, her expression filled with irritation.

"But mamma..." I try to say, my face tightening as tears fill my eyes, frustration building inside me as I realise she truly believes what she is saying.

"We almost died cause of you, and now dad is going to lose 15 million and his territories because of you," Kyla cuts in, her voice filled with accusation as she glares at me, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest.

I stare at her, stunned by the audacity, my mind replaying everything that happened earlier, the way she framed me, the way she pushed me into reacting, and now she stands here blaming me as though none of that happened.

"But mom... I thought you didn't want him to take me..." I cry out, my voice trembling as I look at her desperately, hoping she might at least admit that part was real.

She lets out a bitter laugh, her expression filled with irritation as she looks at me.

"You think I give a d*mn about what happens to you? If I showed Luciano that I cared for you, I hoped it would make him reconsider killing the rest of us..." she says coldly.

Her words hit me hard, and I feel my chest tighten as I stare at her, trying to process how easily she says that, how casually she admits she never cared whether I was taken away.

"Mom..." I whisper, my voice barely audible as I stare at her, disbelief filling me as I struggle to accept what she just said.

She huffs and turns toward Kyla, who stands there with her arms crossed, still glaring at me.

"Have the stylists come in the next fifteen minutes to help her get prepared," my mother orders calmly, as though we are discussing an event rather than a forced marriage.

Kyla glances at me once more, her glare lingering before she turns and walks out of the room without another word, leaving me alone with my mother.

My mother then turns back toward me, her expression impatient as she looks me over from head to toe, her gaze lingering on the bruises and dirt covering my skin.

"Now you will go take a shower, wash all that filth off you and get yourself cleaned up. You have ten minutes," she says firmly.

"I won't," I say quietly, the words slipping out before I can stop myself, my voice trembling yet stubborn as I stand there.

Her hand moves instantly.

The slap lands hard against my cheek, snapping my head to the side as pain spreads across my face, my eyes watering instantly as I stumble back with a pained gasp, eventually staring back at her with fear and disbelief.

"I wasn't asking you. Now do as you're told. Otherwise, we're all dead," she says coldly before turning and walking toward the door, not even bothering to wait for my response or look back at me.

The door shuts behind her, leaving me alone in the room, and just like that, the silence around me consumes me whole.

I slowly sink to the floor, my legs giving out beneath me as I sit there, tears streaming down my face while my mind struggles to process everything that just happened, the pain in my cheek still throbbing as my hand slowly slides off my face. I sit there for a moment, my breathing shaky as I stare at the floor, my thoughts racing as I try to understand how everything changed so quickly, how I went from begging my family to protect me to being told to prepare for a marriage I never agreed to.

They really expect me to go through with this.

The thought sits heavily in my mind, and I let out a terrified breath as I sit there, my hands trembling slightly as I press them against the floor, trying to ground myself. I glance around my room slowly, taking in the familiar space, the bed, the dresser, the small details that suddenly feel distant, as though I am already being separated from this place.

This room has always been the only space where I could escape them, where I could be alone, where I could breathe without worrying about what they might say or do. And now, even this place no longer feels like mine.

I wipe at my tears with the back of my hand, my chest tightening as I realise that once I walk out of this room, nothing will belong to me anymore.

And it seems like I'm left with no other choice.

Slowly, I push myself to my feet, my legs weak as I steady myself, my gaze lingering around the room one last time before I force myself to move. My steps feel slow as I make my way toward the bathroom, my mind still racing as I try to process what comes next, what will happen after this, what my life will look like once I walk out of here dressed as his bride.

Luciano's face flashes briefly in my mind, and I swallow quietly, my chest tightening again as I remember the way he looked at me earlier, the way his fingers touched my face, the way my body reacted even though fear filled me...

I shake my head slightly, trying to push those thoughts away as I continue toward the bathroom.

And so I rise to my feet after mustering all the strength I can and make my way towards the bathroom, to try and get myself cleaned up...