Bound by vows, burned by love

‎The rain outside was cold, but not colder than the silence inside the Moretti home. ‎ ‎Ariana sat at the edge of the dining room table, her white-knuckled hands gripping the teacup she hadn’t touched in hours. Her father paced near the window, the air around him thick with stress and secrets. Her mother sat frozen, eyes hollow, lips tight. ‎ ‎That silence was the final warning. ‎ ‎Ariana had just turned eighteen two weeks ago. She was supposed to be preparing for university, choosing classes, maybe dreaming about her first love. Instead, her future was being signed away — like property. ‎ ‎“Say it again,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. ‎ ‎Her father flinched. “You’re marrying *Dominic Romano*.” ‎ ‎Ariana let out a breath, slow and sharp. “The mafia boss?” ‎ ‎“He’s not just a boss,” her father snapped. “He's from the Romano family. He owns half the city. And if we don’t give him this—” he motioned toward her like she was a bargaining chip— “he’ll take everything. Our name. Our lives.” ‎ ‎“So you gave him to me,” she whispered. “As a peace offering.” ‎Her mother finally looked up, tears glistening in her eyes. “Ariana… he promised to keep you safe. This will protect you.” ‎ ‎“I never asked to be protected like this.” ‎ ‎The deal was struck days ago. A marriage agreement between the Romano and Moretti families, ending a decade-long tension between two mafia bloodlines. On paper, it was a brilliant strategy. In reality, it was a sentence. ‎ ‎She would belong to a man she’d never met. A man who ruled with fear and fire. A man twice her age, who reportedly had no heart left to give. ‎ ‎Her father slid a sealed envelope across the table. Ariana stared at it like it might explode. “That’s the contract. He signed it. You sign, and it’s done.” ‎ ‎She didn’t touch it. ‎ ‎“You think this is a choice?” her father hissed. “You want to walk out there and end up in a ditch, Ariana? Because that’s what happens when you cross a man like Dominic.” ‎ ‎“I haven’t even met him,” she said, voice rising now. “I don’t know his face. I don’t know his voice.” ‎ ‎“You’ll know him soon enough,” her mother murmured. ‎ ‎Ariana stood, pushing the chair back with a screech. Her heart thundered in her chest. This was madness. This was her life being handed away like a debt payment. ‎ ‎But she had no weapons. No power. No choice. ‎With trembling fingers, she picked up the pen. Her hand hovered over the paper, her eyes burning. ‎ ‎“I’m not doing this for you,” she said without looking up. “I’m doing this because I’ll survive it. And when this is over, you’ll both answer for what you made me.” ‎ ‎Then she signed. ‎ ‎Not with love. Not with hope. ‎But with fire I sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers tightening around the fabric of my dress. For a moment, I let myself cry. Silent, aching tears that soaked into my palms. Not because I was weak. But because everything I’d ever known had just been traded for something I didn’t choose. Eighteen. I was eighteen, and I still clung to the small hopes of a girl who hadn’t yet learned what her family truly was. And the man at the center of it… I hadn’t even met yet. But his name already lived on my tongue like a bruise. Dominic Romano. ‎