The Golden Handcuffs

The morning sun rose over the ocean, casting bright, cold light through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the suite. Vittoria had not slept, her eyes red as she sat on the edge of the massive canopy bed, wearing a simple silk robe she had found in the wardrobe. When the lock on her door turned, she stood up immediately, her body tense.

Cassian entered, carrying a silver tray with a pot of coffee and a single plate of food. He had discarded his jacket, wearing only a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing the dark tattoos that wrapped around his muscular forearms.

"You did not touch the food Maria brought you last night," Cassian noted, setting the tray on a small table near the window.

"I do not eat food prepared by my kidnappers," Vittoria replied, her voice cold.

"You need to maintain your strength, sweet girl," Cassian said, pouring a cup of coffee. "We have a long day ahead of us, and I dislike dealing with weak partners."

"Then let me go home," she said, taking a step toward him. "You have my mother. You have your proof. Why am I still here?"

"Because your survival requires a formal resolution," Cassian said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of parchment, laying it on the table next to the coffee. "This is our marriage contract."

Vittoria stared at the document with pure disbelief. "A marriage contract? You must be out of your mind. I am not marrying you."

"You are," Cassian said, his voice entirely devoid of doubt. "The Marchetti council met late last night. The elders demanded your execution to prevent any future Carvelli loyalists from rallying behind your name. My father's old allies want you dead, Vittoria."

"Then let them try," she spat, though her heart hammered against her ribs.

"They would succeed," Cassian said, walking over to her until his shadow completely enveloped her. "You are an innocent girl who spent her life hiding behind locked doors. You would not survive twenty-four hours against professional hitmen. But if you marry me, you become a Marchetti. Under our law, any attack on the Don's wife is an act of treason against the entire syndicate."

"You want to protect me?" Vittoria asked, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "You expect me to believe that? Your family killed my father!"

"My family won a war," Cassian corrected, his dark eyes narrowing. "And now, I am securing the peace. By marrying you, I unite the remaining Carvelli loyalists under my banner, eliminating the threat of a civil war. Your father's old territory becomes indisputably mine. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement."

"Beneficial for you," she countered, backing away until her knees hit the edge of the bed. "I lose my freedom. I lose my life. I am forced to sleep under the roof of a killer."

"You save your mother's life," Cassian reminded her, his voice dropping to a low, husky register. He followed her, leaning down until his face was level with hers. "And you secure your own safety. I will provide you with anything you desire, Vittoria. You will live like a queen. But you will sign this contract."

"And if I refuse to sign?" she asked, her breath catching as his scent filled her senses.

"If you refuse, I will step aside," Cassian whispered, his hand rising to touch her chin, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip with a warm, demanding pressure. "I will let the elders have their vote. And you will be dead by sunset. Is your pride worth your life, sweet girl?"

Vittoria closed her eyes, shivering at the electric spark that shot through her skin at his touch. She hated how her body reacted to him, she hated that even in her terror, she felt a desperate, magnetic pull toward him. "You are forcing me."

"I am saving you," Cassian murmured, his fingers sliding up her jaw to cup the back of her head, tilting her face up. "Sign the paper, Vittoria. Give me the right to defend you."

"I will never be your real wife," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"You will be whatever I require you to be," Cassian said, his grip tightening slightly. "But for now, sign the contract. The elders are coming to dinner tonight to meet the new Marchetti bride. I expect you to look beautiful, compliant, and utterly mine."

He pulled away, leaving her gasping for air as he picked up a pen from the desk and set it down on top of the parchment.

"You have until noon," Cassian said, walking toward the door. "Maria will bring your dress for the evening. Do not disappoint me, Vittoria."

The door closed, and the lock clicked once more. Vittoria stared at the pen, her hand shaking as she reached for it, knowing she had to sign her soul over to the devil to save her mother.