05."You're mine now."

Emma

I 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 for now," she said, opening the door and revealing a spacious suite with a huge bed and a view of a lush garden.

My reaction was one of shock. The room was luxurious, much larger than the house I lived in. But none of this enchanted me or brought happiness.

"Thank you, Clara," I murmured with a weak smile, trying to appear grateful, although my mind was in turmoil.

"It's Mr. DeLuca's orders. I'm at your service for anything you need. I'll bring clean towels and sheets," Clara stated, her kind expression contrasting with the situation I was in.

"Thank you," I thanked again.

As soon as she left, I closed the door of the room and let myself fall onto the bed, tears starting to flow. I couldn't contain the sadness and anger that consumed me.

Now, I was under the control of a man who seemed to have no scruples. He proposed a marriage of convenience, a contract that I had no choice but to accept. I knew he was cruel, and I refused to believe that there was any trace of kindness in this mobster.

To think that I always imagined my marriage as something full of love and affection, finding someone who would truly make me happy. It was all a shattered dream.

My father brought me to this point by making a deal with Andrew DeLuca to save his life. 

But harboring hatred wouldn't get me anywhere, I knew that. I had to be strong, to face the circumstances as best as I could, at least until I found an opportunity to escape this nightmare.

Clara returned to my room, leaving the sheets and towels as promised. I decided it was time for a shower, I was feeling terrible, with a depressive look.

Upon entering the bathroom, I came across a surprise. A spacious bathtub dominated the space, and everything was immaculately arranged. I searched for soap, but to my frustration, there was nothing available. They had probably forgotten to stock the personal hygiene products in the room.

I left the bathroom again and looked down the empty hallway, taking advantage of the moment of privacy. I walked silently, in search of another bathroom where I could at least find a bar of soap. My gaze traveled the corridor, and as I turned around to head back to my room, I nearly bumped into Andrew DeLuca.

He was there, with a towel wrapped around his waist, revealing his defined abdomen and a distinctive tattoo on his chest. I couldn't help but notice his attractive appearance, but I forced myself to keep my head held high and a firm posture, even though his presence made me uncomfortable.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice carrying an authoritative and curious tone.

I took a deep breath before responding, trying to control the emotions that were simmering within me. "I was looking for soap since there was none in my room."

He stared at me for a moment, his penetrating eyes assessing me, and my stomach tightened with the sensation of being under his scrutiny.

"I will arrange that," he said, looking me up and down, and my embarrassment didn't go unnoticed.

"Excuse me," I murmured, making to leave, but he called me again.

"There will be a dinner tonight to introduce you to some members of my association." His voice carried a tone of authority. "I want you ready at seven o'clock."

"I don't have suitable clothes," I calmly replied, trying to maintain my pride.

"I've already taken care of that, don't worry," he responded briefly.

"Do I have to go to this dinner?" I asked, seeking a direct answer.

He looked at me intensely but didn't say anything. I sighed and left the room, my heart pulsating with anger. I couldn't stand that man, not at all.

After taking a shower, I dried my hair and stared at my reflection in the mirror, recalling all the bitter memories flooding my mind. I wasn't in the mood for that dinner at all. But I was doing it for my father's life, only for that reason. I knew I was imprisoned and would need to cater to all of DeLuca's whims if I wanted to survive all of this.

Upon exiting the bathroom, I found a dress carefully laid out on the bed, along with a pair of heels and some accessory pieces. Clara had probably organized all of this. I took a deep breath and picked up the dress. It was simply stunning, a dress I would have never imagined wearing.

It was a long dress, elegantly black, with thin straps that crisscrossed at the back, creating a strap pattern. The subtle V-neck added a touch of sophistication. The fabric was soft to the touch, and it gracefully flowed down to the floor. It was as if the piece had been made for me, incredibly molding to my body.

As I held the dress in my hands, I couldn't help but feel a little surprised and even grateful for Clara's kindness in helping me through this difficult time. I knew I was getting ready for a dinner that would likely be filled with curious looks and judgments, but at least the dress made me feel more confident.

"My God, help me get through all of this without freaking out," I spoke to myself.

Taking a deep breath, I began to get ready, carefully donning the chosen attire. As the dress slid over my body, I felt as if I were stepping into new skin, into a new role. I looked at myself in the mirror again and, even if just for a moment, saw a version of myself not entirely consumed by the circumstances.

I slipped on the heels, picked up some simple accessories, and did my best with my hair. The Emma in the mirror looked like a stranger, but I was determined to face whatever came my way. With one last sigh, I left the room, leaving behind uncertainty and anger, and entering a world I didn't ask to be a part of but was now intertwined with my life.

I descended the stairs with slow steps, preparing myself to face the impending encounter. The main hall was elegantly decorated, and at its center, like a king on his throne, was him. His impeccable black tuxedo and bowtie added an air of formality to his serious demeanor. His hair, although tousled, appeared to have been artfully arranged effortlessly. A sophisticated scent enveloped him, carrying a touch of mystery that was impossible to ignore.

The hall was filled with people. The men, all elegantly dressed, carried an aura of danger around them, while the women sported luxurious dresses and fake smiles.

DeLuca advanced towards me, extending his hand as if ready to dance. I tried to conceal my hesitation as I accepted his hand, knowing I was about to step into unfamiliar territory.

He guided me through the crowd, introducing me to a few people with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

When we reached the center of the hall, he stopped and looked me in the eyes. "Emma, allow me to introduce you to the closest members of our association."

Conversations ceased as people turned their attention to me, and I felt completely out of place.

With a gentle touch to my waist, DeLuca whispered in my ear, "Now you're mine, Emma."

His lips brushed lightly against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. It was a reminder that I was bound to him by an agreement I had no choice but to fulfill. 

As I faced the curious and judgmental looks around me, I realized that my life would never be the same again.