Page 82 of Mafia Captor

It’s time.

I find myself frozen to the chair, unable to move.

She grabs my shoulder, gently tugging at me to stand. “Come, come. You mustn’t keep him waiting. He’s not fond of delays.”

“I’m not fond of being forced to marry.”

My words make her face fall and I instantly regret them. I soften my tone, putting a hand over hers where it rests on my shoulders. “It’s not your fault, I don’t mean to take it out on you.”

She sniffs as if I’ve complained of my hairpins being too tight. “I understand. But my dear, things could be worse. In my day, our parents had the say in who we married. And it was difficult to move up in this world other than through marriage. At least in Vincent, you will never want for anything.”

Anything, other than love.

Though her demeanor is tough, in her gaze I can read her apologies. She’s not the one at fault. I give her the same tight smile I braved for Esme.

Patting her hand, I say, “I know. He’s been more than generous.”

She gives a grateful sigh, as if I’ve taken the weight of guilt from her shoulders. “I understand this isn’t the way you envisioned your life heading, but you will grow to love him. I have a sixth sense about these things and I’ve not been wrong yet.”

There’s a first time for everything, Sophia.

I will never love him.

As soon as I can break out of the castle walls safely, I’m going to flee. Grab my father, and get us out of the country. Maybe we can go back to New York, where we lived before coming to Italy.

But first, I must play the part of the bride.

Standing, I smooth my shaking hands over my dress, a slinky white silk slip gown, the seaming hugging my curves, the back rising into baguette-encrusted halter straps that lead to a black grosgrain bow-topped T-back. It’s nothing I would have chosen for myself, but as I gaze in the mirror, I find it suits me.

“How do I look?” I offer Sophia a smile I hope is kind. She hemmed this dress for me, painstakingly making every stitch by hand when I arrived the other morning, telling me if she left it up to the castle’s tailor, he’d snag the silk with his rough hands.

Tears brush up in her eyes as she gazes at me through her wire-framed glasses. “Dear, you look lovely. Vincent is a very lucky man.”

Taking my arm in hers, she leads me from the room. We make our way through the castle.

It’s a truly beautiful building, a structure built for fairytales. I’ve read so many books, and in every one pictured myself walking along the halls of the castles on the pages. But now, it’s real.

Deep red rugs line the halls. Paintings of the Italian countryside, and the regal ancestors of the family hang from the walls below black iron sconces that holding burning candles. Servants flutter behind me, ready and willing to meet any need I may have.

I’ve dreamed of castles like this.

And now, my dream feels like a nightmare.

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Ella

I can’t believeI’m back. It happened weeks ago. I shouldn’t still be coming here.

“Miss?” The cab driver’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. He studies my face, concern etched in the lines of his. “You sure you want me to leave you here?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” My fingers reach for the car door handle. “Thanks.”

“Um…you sure we’re at the right place?” His eyes dart up to the sign arching over the entrance. “Should you be here alone? At midnight? You sure you don’t want me to stay and wait for you?”

I shake my head, offering what I hope is a convincing smile. “No, really. I’ll be okay.”

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