Emma
After a long journey inside that car, I struggle to maintain my lucidity, but the voices continue to echo in my mind, like a constant disturbing buzz. My mind wrestles between the need to face reality and the desire to escape into a mental refuge. The images of my father's worried expression as the men tore me away from his presence remain ingrained, a painful memory that haunts me.
Finally, the car comes to a stop, and silence settles, broken only by the sound of doors opening. I feel hands guiding me out of the vehicle, and the blindfold is removed from my eyes. The daylight dazzles my senses for a moment, but soon I find myself in a place that seems to be Don's mansion, an equally dark and intimidating setting. The oppression around me is almost palpable.
"Move, girl," he muttered.
"Son of a bitch," I whispered angrily.
"What did you say?!" he glared at me.
"Nothing."
He led me to a beautiful place; the mansion rises like a monument to his wealth and absolute control. It's a bold fusion of classical architecture and modern elements, creating a unique atmosphere of luxury and oppression. This was a vast and isolated property; the mansion was surrounded by meticulously manicured gardens but also by a sense of inaccessibility as if there was no one in this place.
I observe everything around me, which fills me with panic and fear of what awaits me.
My eyes finally adjust to the light, and that's when I see him. A tall and imposing man, wearing a sleek black suit, very handsome, with casually styled black hair and eyes as blue as the ocean, stands before me. His gaze is piercing, and a shiver runs down my spine as he examines me from head to toe as if he could read every thought of mine.
"Emma," he says, his voice firm and calculated. "Welcome to my mansion."
My vocal cords felt frozen, and I, who always had answers at the tip of my tongue, could hardly articulate a response. His eyes hold me captive, and my heart races as I try to gather the courage to face him.
"I am Andrew, better known as DeLuca," he continues, his unwavering expression. "I know you're confused, but I want you to understand your situation. From now on, I'll dictate the rules."
His tone is surprisingly calm, which only heightens my unease. I want to scream, to run, but I'm paralyzed by fear and uncertainty.
"You're here because your father owes me a debt," Andrew continues, his voice maintaining an eerie calmness. "A debt he couldn't pay. Now, he's no longer the focus. You are, Ragazza."
My lips tremble as I try to form words. "What... what do you want from me?"
Andrew smiles in an almost condescending way. "You're the guarantee that he'll fulfill his debt. A valuable guarantee, I'd say." You'll be mine as long as I want you to be, I've been observing you for so long...
My hands are cold and trembling, and my mind races for an exit, for a solution. But it seems all options are blocked, every step I could take has already been planned, and foreseen.
"Understand, Emma," he continues, his eyes delving deep into mine. "You have two choices. You can stay here, under my protection, and ensure your father keeps breathing. Or you can try to escape, but believe me, that would be a pretty foolish choice."
A sense of helplessness engulfs me. I'm cornered, with no way out. His words echo in my mind, and tears start streaming down my face.
"Whatever your choice, know that I'm giving you two options," he says, his expression slightly softening. "But I'm not someone you can deceive either. Think carefully, Emma."
Andrew's words resonate within the mansion, an echo of my concerns and fears. My heart pounds hard in my chest as I struggle to comprehend the magnitude of the situation I find myself in. Don's mansion, a place where power and danger intertwine, seems to be the epicenter of a world I barely understand.
As my gaze remains fixed on Andrew, my mind desperately races for alternatives. The choice he imposes on me is like a tight knot in my throat, choking me with the grim reality that stretches ahead.
I was trapped. If I fled, my father would die, and probably I would too.
"I understand this is a frightening situation for you, no one deserves to have a crappy father, right?" he says, his voice sounding provocative, almost as if he's trying to get under my skin. "But it's also an opportunity. An opportunity for you to do the right thing and help your father."
My mind oscillates between anger, fear, and determination. My father, whose tormented face I can't forget, is at the core of all this. The idea of leaving him in Don's hands is unthinkable, but I also know that challenging Andrew could result in even more devastating consequences.
How can he put our lives in danger like this? Has he not thought about the consequences?
"What happens if I decide to stay?" I ask, my voice trembling but firm. "What do you expect from me?"
Andrew watches me for a moment as if assessing my sincerity. "If you choose to stay, you will be my contracted wife for a year; your father has a whole year to pay me the debt, or well... he dies."
His words are intricate, laden with veiled promises and unspoken secrets. Yet a glimmer of hope appears when he mentions that I need to stay for only a year. Maybe I could find a way to leave after a year.
"But know that trying to escape won't be a safe option," he adds, his expression hardening again. "I have eyes and ears everywhere. You'd be found, and the consequences would be... unpleasant."
I swallow hard, absorbing each word. My mind is in turmoil, my heart in conflict. Andrew offers a glimpse of a life I might still have here, while threatening me with the horror of the unknown if I dare defy him.
"So, Emma, what will your choice be?" he asks, his eyes fixed on mine as if seeking an answer from the depths of my soul.
I take a deep breath, trying to find the strength needed to make a decision that will shape my destiny. My father, the debt, the possibility of limited freedom. All of it dances before my eyes, like pieces of a chaotic puzzle.
He takes pleasure in toying with me, knowing I have no real choice, and he's playing with words.
"I..." My voice trembles, but this time, there's a hint of determination. "I'll stay."
Andrew tilts his head slightly as if approving of my choice. "A wise choice, Emma. Now, let's ensure you won't betray me, then I'll take care of the contract."
He gestures, and one of the men who escorted me here steps forward. I feel a mixture of fear and apprehension as they lead me into a room filled with screens.
"Mr. DeLuca," the man approaches, citing what I believe to be Andrew's surname. "May I proceed?" he gestures to the screens.
He nods, and the man activates more than seven screens at once, all showing my father's workplace, our house, my former job, and all the places I've frequented. Chills run down my spine instantly. This man was bizarre.
"So, you know already, if you betray me, unfortunately, I won't be held responsible for my actions, dear Emma. Now you'll be my wife."
In one day, I'm just a waitress serving orders in a diner, the next, I'm handed over to the worst man I could have ever imagined meeting, the mafia Don.
I don't know what I will do from now on.
Andrew DeLuca.After my parents' passing, I took over full control of the businesses. I was discreet, and I needed to be, for I was the Don.The "Don" in a mafia organization is the term we use for the supreme leader or head of the criminal family, and well, that was me. Andrew DeLuca.My parents came to New York to establish businesses here when I was still very young. I didn't know anything and thought life was a game. Until I witnessed my father's death before my eyes.I don't remember much about my mother, she left when I was very young. Or at least, that's what my father told me. Since then, I learned to be alone—well, I had a younger sister, Isabella. Ize had a strong personality, which unfortunately caused me more trouble. She was active in the mafia too, but unlike me, she had a good heart and compassion, which I found useless in our world.So, my childhood wasn't easy at all. The mafia was my only family. It was one of the few things I had left. I didn't have other options.W
EmmaI slid my hands along the railing as I climbed the stairs, feeling the security guard following behind me, watching each step I took with meticulous attention. I felt like a cornered prey, a prisoner in every move I made.Andrew DeLuca possessed an aura of authority that spread wherever he went. Every word that came out of his mouth was like a blow, intensifying my anger and desperation. I didn't want to be here, didn't want to be part of this arrangement, but my father's life was at stake, and I couldn't ignore that.My attempts to contact the outside world had been thwarted. They took my cell phone, and I found myself completely isolated. I had always been the master of my own life, and being in this situation of vulnerability was distressing. All my freedom had been taken away from me.The security guard stopped in front of a door, and an elderly woman named Clara appeared."Ms. Emma, I'm Clara. Mr. DeLuca asked me to take care of everything you need. This will be your room fo
Emma The atmosphere was tense and filled with anticipation as I stood by Andrew DeLuca's side, surrounded by the inquisitive glances of his associates. I felt like an intruder in a dark and dangerous world, one I had never imagined becoming a part of. I wondered how I had ended up here. It was something I certainly wished I could change, but as I couldn't, I looked ahead and faced the harsh reality. DeLuca smiled enigmatically at the gathering as if relishing the attention our arrival had garnered. His arm remained firmly around my waist, a silent possession that sent a clear message to everyone present. "I don't want to hear a word more than you should say," he whispered. "I won't say anything more, as long as our deal continues, and my father is safe," I replied with a wink. "I am a man of my word, Emma." He introduced me to each person as if he were holding a trophy, and from what I gathered, getting married was important for him to keep up appearances. The people here seemed
EmmaI got out of bed carefully, my feet touching the floor with light and cautious steps. The knock on the door had pulled me out of my thoughts, but it had also ignited a wave of fear and panic within me. I knew who was on the other side of the door, and the mere idea of facing Andrew DeLuca made my heart race.My steps led me toward the door, my fingers hesitating on the doorknob before finally turning it slowly. I was only in a corset, and I hadn't even realized it until he scanned me from head to toe.The door swung open, revealing the imposing figure of Andrew DeLuca, his dominant posture filling the room's threshold. His intense eyes were fixed on me, and despite my attempts to decipher his expression, it remained an enigma."What do you want?" I spoke, my voice carrying a mix of challenge and nervousness."Is this how you treat your future owner and husband, Emma?" His voice sounded with a mix of sarcasm and au
Andrew DeLuca The silence of the night enveloped me as I finally left Emma's room. The door closed behind me, isolating her from the outside world, but also leaving me alone with my tumultuous thoughts. I walked through the silent corridors of the mansion, my steps firm and determined, but my mind a true storm of internal conflicts. Emma's eyes still danced before mine, an intriguing mix of challenge and vulnerability. She was like a burning flame, difficult to extinguish, even in the face of the circumstances I had created. I wanted her, that was undeniable. From the moment I first saw her, something about her drew me uncontrollably. But I also knew she represented a key piece in my plan, a way to solidify my position as the Don in the hierarchy. While the voices of the association members echoed in my mind, I knew that my decision to marry Emma had been met with a mix of surprise and suspicion. They saw me as just a young man suddenly willing to commit. But I needed to prove I w
Emma I was sitting in my room, staring into space, lost in thoughts about how my life had taken such an unexpected turn. The forced marriage to Andrew hung over me like a dark shadow, and I wondered if I would ever find a way out of this nightmare. I couldn't stop thinking for even a minute. I was pulled from my thoughts when a soft knock on the door echoed through the room. My heart jumped in my chest, and I wondered what it could be this time – was it him? The door opened to reveal one of DeLuca's security guards. "Miss Emma," he said in a deep voice, "Mr. DeLuca requests your presence in his office. He wants you to choose your wedding dress today." I sighed inwardly. Just what I needed. This day was inevitable, but it didn't mean I was looking forward to it. Imagining myself choosing a dress for a day I never even planned for. Andrew DeLuca was determined to keep up appearances, and I needed to make him believe I was committed to this marriage, at least until I found a way to p
Emma The day of the engagement had arrived, and I was immersed in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. I didn't want to see these people, and having to pretend to be a happy bride was suffocating. Andrew and I had to continue defining the wedding details, although it was he who truly dictated the rules. We maintained the facade of a passionate couple for the mafia family. It was as if we were building a forced alliance. I thought of my father; every day, I thought of him. How was he doing? Did he think of me? Surely, he was better off than I was. That was clear. The day was just beginning, and I could hear the hustle and bustle of people working, probably preparing for the damn engagement. I left the room in search of some distraction. I was hungry, but I didn't want to go downstairs. After all, I was still a stranger in this mansion. I walked through the hallways silently, marveling at the grandeur of the place. That's when I found a partially open door. My heightened curiosity c
Emma After the engagement dinner, when the guests and his family members finally departed, I felt a momentary relief. Being introduced to his family had made me extremely nervous; marrying him weighed heavily on me. It was evident that they were involved in the worst criminal activities, and this reality was hard to ignore. With a sigh of relief, I kicked off the uncomfortable heels and walked to the balcony. The cool night breeze calmed my nerves as I gazed at the stars in the sky. The distant sounds of the city, mixed with the silence of the mansion, created a contrast that made me reflective. The mansion's view was breathtaking, but I knew that behind the beauty, there was a terrifying darkness. Sitting on the balcony, I began to reminisce about happy moments with my father and the life I used to have before being dragged into this dark world. I remembered how my father used to take me to the park and tell bedtime stories. I recalled the laughter, the smiles, the sunny days when