A Crashed Wedding

_Amelie’s POV_

To every bride, the day of her wedding was meant to be the happiest day of her life. Filled with joy and any other thing that classifies as ‘happy’.  It was meant to be the best thing that has ever happened in her life.

But not me. Of course not me. The gods forbid that Amelie DaVinci be happy even though it was for a day.

Today would forever be the worst day of my life. And as I sat on the floor with my hands tied behind me and my mouth gagged, I tried to understand what led me here.

_A few hours ago_

“But Papa I don't want to get married,” I complained to my fifty-five years old father, hoping to speak some sense into him.

I had heard from the maids that I would be getting married today and I immediately rushed to him to confirm.

Imagine that, not hearing from your own father who had set it up but from the maids who were ordered whispering about it in excitement.

I had just turned twenty, the last thing I needed was to get married.

“Amelie, we have talked about this,” Father said, ordering the maid who stood at the side to start getting me ready.

“This wedding is important for the familia,”

Then what about for me? What about what was important for me?

I wanted to scream at me, but I paid attention to the maids in the room.

Disrespecting him in front of them was going to lead to him punishing me and I wasn’t ready for that.

“Just do what is required of you for the mafia,” He said, putting an end to the discussion.

Of course the mafia was more important to him than his only child.

Not that I found it surprising, it was part of the daily life of Amelie DaVinci.

A father that doesn't care about her.

I was just finding out about my own wedding a few minutes ago, and it was quite obvious that this marriage wasn’t going to be one of love.

It was merely an alliance for power and I was a tool being used. My supposed fiance, Ferdinand was the leader of a brother mafia and this wedding was supposed to bring the two mafias together.

And I knew that Ferdinand wasn’t going to be any different from my father, both men wanting nothing but power.

One hour later and I was marching to the Church, flower in hand as my father prepared to give me off to a man I have never met.

Everyone expected this kind of sacrifice from me. I was the Don’s daughter and sacrifices were meant to be made.

But none of their stupid asses would volunteer to get their daughters sent off. They all knew what kind of person Ferdinand was, and that was why I was the perfect person.

A tear dropped rolled down my cheek and I hurriedly wiped it off, keeping the stoic look on my face.

There was no point to shed a tear right now, if father saw me crying he would call me a shame to the DaVinci and weak.

It was bad enough to him that I was a female already.

I walked down the aisle, my grip on the flower bouquet tightening. It was sad to see that the first time I was getting a flower bouquet was at a wedding I didn't even want to be in, not from my lover who I’m head over heels for.

But life plays cruel jokes on us at times. And right now I could bet the bitch was doubled over, laughing at me.

I kept my eyes on the supposed groom, our gazes clashing as I walked.

Ferdinand Rossi. Probably one of the coldest men that would ever live. He has killed a lot, and I’m certain he would still kill more.

Because that’s the life in the mafia, and I’m not certain I want that kind of life.

Ferdinand stood at the altar with his face expressionless. He didn’t bother to hide his disinterest. It seemed as if he would rather be elsewhere than watch me walk down.

If not anything he looked like he was bored,

And I didn't know how to feel about that. It was every girl’s dream for her groom to stare at in excitement, but as usual Amelie gets the worse of it.

He didn’t even look a little bit interested in me.

“Keep your head up Amelie,” Father whispered to me, his grip on my fingers tightening. I couldn’t afford to cry out in pain and so I nodded, pushing my head up.

 “You are my daughter so walk with pride,”

I bit into my lips, fighting the tears that once again threatened to fall.

The audience, all members of the mafia from both families, whispered amongst themselves. Everyone knew this marriage wasn’t about love. It was business, pure and simple.

I didn’t want to be here anymore and just wanted this to be over and done with. This dress was starting to get tight and I could feel my anxiety starting to kick in.

I felt the stares drilling into me—some pitied me, others envied me for my position as the Don’s daughter, blissfully unaware of the burden that came with it.

I could happily switch with them if it meant not getting married to this man.

And my father. He looked happy to be giving me away right now, even though it was the last thing I wanted.

The stoic mask I wore hid the resentment bubbling inside me. I was nothing but a pawn in his power play, and I hated him for it.

When I reached the altar, Ferdinand took my hand. His grip was firm, cold and devoid of any warmth.

I tried to pry my hands away from his but he refused to let go, even tightening his hold.

“There’s no point holding my hand,” I whispered to him and just like everyone else does, he ignored me.

Prick head.

The priest began speaking, his deep voice reverberating through the church. I barely listened, too lost in my thoughts to notice what was happening.

“Do you, Amelie Davinci, take Ferdinand to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

The priest’s words rang in my ears, and for a brief moment, I hesitated.

Do I want that? Quite obviously no. I was being forced to do all these.

But can I say that?

My mouth opened, but the words refused to come out. What I actually wanted was to scream, to run, to tear the veil from my face and tell them all to go to hell.

But I didn’t. I can’t do that.

My father would have my head in a matter of seconds snd I wasn’t even playing. The one thing he didn’t joke with was his mafia and if I did something that could potentially harm it, he’d kill me.

Those were his words, not mine.

“Yes, I do.” I whispered, a tear drop sliding down my face.

I raised my eyes to meet Ferdinand’s gaze, his empty eyes boring into me.  The priest repeated the same to him and his response came immediately.

“Yes, I do.”

There was no hesitation like mine and my heart hammered in my chest.

This was really happening.

The ring bearers brought the rings to use and with shaky hands, I slipped a ring into his finger.

Without breaking eye contact, Ferdinand slipped the finger into my wrist and I shut my eyes, another tear slipping down.

Just as I forced myself to inhale and preparing for the priest to say the words that would seal my fate, the doors of the church burst open with a deafening bang.

With a gasp, I turned around to see who had save— I meant interrupted the wedding.

The room fell silent, all heads snapping toward the entrance. Three men dressed in black stormed in, their faces covered in masks.

Okayy. The three musketeers.

I didn’t realize how serious this was until they all brought out their guns and then…

Chaos erupted.

Gunshots echoed as the men opened fire, bullets ricocheting off the stone walls and sending the guests scrambling for cover.

Ferdinand grabbed my arm, yanking me behind him as his men drew their weapons, returning fire. I could feel his grip tighten as he barked orders, his calm demeanor shattered.

It took a moment for me to register that we were being attacked and these men were here with the intentions to kill.

“Amelie, stay down!” Ferdinand growled, shoving me behind a pew.

But I wasn’t listening. My heart thundered in my chest as I tried to make sense of what was happening. Was this an ambush? A hit on my family?

Or worse—was someone here to kill me?

Through the chaos, I caught a glimpse of one of the masked men.  My eyes following his every movement he made.

They were swift, and precise, unlike the usual recklessness of hired gunmen.

This wasn’t a random attack.

This was personal.

I tried to stay as hidden as I could, but when he turned, holding eye contact with me, I knew instantly that I was fucked.

The first thing that came to mind was for me to get the hell out of that place and hide.

And I did exactly that.  Or maybe tried to.

A bullet whizzed passed me as I ran, causing me to scream out in fear.

I had no idea who they were but wasn’t it too much for them to try and kill me?

My heels made it hard for me to take a step forward and before I knew it I was tripping over my own foot, my dress ripping.

A light curse escaped my lips as my head banged against the wall, the room spinning around.

Well fuck. Death by own hands.

I tried to keep my eyes open but my attempts were futile and soon I gave in to the darkness