Chapter 007

I bowed my face to the ground, wishing it would just swallow me. So much for a good first impression.

"Bienvenido, hijo mío," I heard her chirp—obviously to Luca, wrapping her arms around him in a warm embrace. (Welcome, my son.)

I stole a glance at her. Her Spanish heritage was very evident from her accent to her dressing and even the aesthetic of the whole estate.

"Buenas noches, mamá." Luca's tone was neutral in response. Without waiting for a response, he continued. "Is he in?"

She nodded slightly at him. Them she turned to me and I felt my face burn in embarrassment. I had made a mess of their porch and screwed my first impression with them.

"¿Quién es esta hermosa dama?" She asked Luca, patting my cheeks to my surprise. I didn't know exactly what she said, but it sounded warm and hearty. (Who is this beautiful lady?)

"This is my fiancée, mamá. Marta." Luca deadpanned, taking my hand in his warm ones. I felt shivers run down my spine at the contact."

She wore a small smile as she stared at me. "Marta? Why, that's my late mother's name! You're welcome, mi querido."

"We're getting married tomorrow, mamá," he stated, causing her to stop in her tracks.

Her eyes were wide, and she was speechless for a moment. Her expression contorted from one of shock to a neutral one, making me wonder what it meant.

"Tomorrow?" She finally spoke in English, which was still heavily influenced by her accent.

Luca hummed slightly in response. With that, we all made our way into the expansive living room.

The interior of the house was more ancient than Luca's mansion, bearing signs and objects of historical and traditional significance.

I gawked at the extravagance it exuded. How wealthy were the Castillos?

I barely spotted the two older men who looked slightly alike in the living room. My anxiety returned at the frowns on both their faces. The frown on the face of the man who looked older looked more personal and intense as he scowled at me.

I unconsciously shifted closer to Luca.

"¿Quién es este don nadie?" The man with the deeper scowl asked Luca. His tone barely hid his disgust and irritation. (Who is this nonentity?)

Luca's hands wrapped around my waist, shocking me. "Uncle, father, this is my fiancée Marta. Marta, meet my father, Alonso," he referred to the man with the deepest frown. "And my uncle, Mateo."

The scowl on Alonso's face transformed into a hideous rage. His eyes blazed as he spat in spanish, "Are you really getting married to this stranger? What has come over you? What is your problem, son?!" I barely understood anything he said.

His mother stood helplessly by the side, her head bowed slightly.

Luca's eyes were equally ablaze as he held my hand. "I've made my decision, father. It was your demand, not mine. Now, you have to fulfil your part. Our wedding is tomorrow." He replied in English. "We'll be headed to the dinner now, if you don't mind."

I let him whisk me off to the dining area, lost in my own thoughts. Luca had gotten married to me based on his father's demands. Why? What was his father's demand?

Mateo walked silently beside Luca, stating ahead with a neutral expression. He didn't look like he had much to say.

We all settled down at the dining table, including his angry father.

The unfamiliar but sweet aroma of freshly cooked traditional meals tingled my senses, and I suddenly remembered that I had not had anything to eat before coming.

We all sat to eat as a maid began to serve the meals. My stomach churned when I felt the sharp eyes of Alonso on me. If eyes could kill, I would definitely be six feet below.

"Dime qué haces, señorita," he spoke up suddenly, his tone dripping with obvious displeasure. (Tell me what you do, young lady.)

I stared around to confirm that he was speaking to me. From the little I had learnt, I could make out that he had asked me a question.

I opened my mouth to answer him, but Luca beat me to it. "She speaks English, padré."

Alonso's scowl deepened. "Te vas a casar con una mujer que no habla nuestro idioma. Ni siquiera es de tierras españolas. ¡Qué falta de respeto!"

(You're marrying a woman who doesn't speak our language. She isn't even from the Spanish soils. Such disrespect!)

I bowed my head, not bothering to try to understand his words, but I suddenly jumped when Luca's palms connected with the table sharply.

"Padré, he tomado mi decisión. Acéptalo." His fluent Spanish left me staring at him in shock and a tinge of admiration. (I have made my decision, father. Deal with it.)

It sounded nice on his lips. I shook my head to rid myself it the intrusive thoughts.

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy with tension as they had a stare off.

"Come with me, mi querido," Isabella suddenly muttered to me, raking my hands in hers.

I stared at her, hesitant for a moment when she added, "We have to get you prepared for your wedding. You won't be going home with Luca until tomorrow—after your wedding."

"Mamà—"

"You don't get to see your bride until the wedding day," she interjected Luca's protest.

I caught a glimpse of the irritation on Alonso, and a lump suddenly built in my throat.

I rose and followed her for two reasons. I didn't want to be left alone with that bitter man, and I also didn't want to get married to Luca.

Regardless, I plastered a fake smile as I walked out of the dining room with her.

*

I sat in the guest bedroom that Isabella had taken me to. It had been two hours since I got to the bedroom and I felt out of place and homesick.

I was tired of being locked in posh bedrooms that belonged to criminals. I had to get my evidence against Luca and find a way to get out of this mess.

Isabella had just put me in the room and left, leaving a burly guard right outside my room.

A knock distracted me from my thoughts. "Come in," I answered grudgingly.

Isabella walked in with a warm smile. She held the we dress that had been in my room at Luca's house and set it on the bed.

"You must be so nervous for the wedding," she started, taking a seat inches away from me on the bed.

I faked a smile. "No, I'm not." She couldn't know that I wasn't happy about this. Who knows if Luca told them that I was happy about it?

She rolled her eyes. "That's not fooling anyone. Do you know why he chose to marry you?"

I shook my head.

She stared into my eyes and sighed. "You'll find out eventually. For now, just get yourself together. I need you to do something for me."

She stood up and walked to the window overlooking the very expansive compound lined with luxurious cars.

I walked to her side and saw what she was looking at. It was Luca and his father. They were yelling, but their words were inaudible.

"My Luca has become so cold and shut off," Isabella sighed, her sharp eyes turning to me. "Why that happened is a long story. I know this marriage is one of unfortunate circumstances, but he chose you."

"Okay?" I mused.

"If you can, be all that he needs. They say love is the greatest force. I need you to love my son. I need you to do your best to make him open up again. He was always a sweet child."

I stared at her, disbelief settling on my face. I gulped, staring away from her. Her wish was impossible.

If only she knew what my true mission was. If only she knew that her son was broken beyond repair. He was a monster who belonged behind bars.

"Make me trust you." She pressed, turning my face back in her direction. "Promise me."

I opened my mouth to protest, but shut it when a tear strayed down her cheeks.

"Please. He might be a lot to deal with, but the true Luca is still somewhere beneath the demon you see."

At least she knew he was a demon. I sighed, bowing my head as I made the empty promise. "Yes. I promise."