The bride of a ruthless Don

I used to think weddings were supposed to feel warm. Soft music, laughter, a man waiting at the altar because he loved you, not because your existence had become part of a negotiation. But as I stood beneath the chandelier lights of the cathedral, in a white dress that felt more like a cage than couture, I realized how stupid that fantasy had been. This wasn’t a wedding, it was payment. The guests filling the rows weren’t family friends or distant relatives. They were men with expensive watches and blood on their hands, hidden beneath tailored Italian suits. And at the center of it all stood Dante de Luca. My husband, the man I blamed for my father’s death. Even from across the aisle, his presence was unwelcoming. Dressed entirely in black except for the silver cufflinks at his wrists. While everyone at the cathedral whispered nervously, Dante stood perfectly still, as if none of this meant anything to him. Maybe it didn’t. I held onto my bouquet tightly. I hated how calm he looked while my entire life collapsed around me. The orchestra continued to play softly. The music faded into the background as my heart raced loudly. With every step I took, I shivered. The closer I got to him, the more tense it got. People feared Dante de Luca. Not in the same way people feared politicians or men with status. No. This was different. It was worse. The kind of fear that silenced rooms. The kind that made grown men silent when he walked past, and now I belonged to him. The thought of it nearly made me sick. As he came closer, I whimpered deeply. I realized how trapped I really was. I was so scared. “Smile,” he said quietly beside me. The command caught me off guard. I turned slightly, staring at him. “Excuse me?” Without looking at me, he stood firmly and said, “You look like you are attending a funeral, not a wedding.” I almost laughed at the irony. My father died 3 months ago, and the man standing beside me had signed the papers that condemned him. “You should be grateful I came at all,” I whispered. That finally got his attention. The way he looked at me made me so angry. He added to my frustration and said, “Careful, Alessia. You are speaking to your husband.” I was fuming deep inside of me. I leaned closer for him to hear me. “You may own my last name now, but you will never own me.” For a second, there was silence. He stared at me for a while, then looked away. The priest continued speaking. I lost focus of what he was saying. I barely heard myself saying the vows before Dante’s hands closed around mine. The wedding ring was worn on my finger. Just like that, it was done. A lifetime decided in less than 2 hours. All the guests stood up slowly, applauding politely through the cathedral, but there was nothing to celebrate about it. No warmth. No happiness. Only power and fear hanging around in the air. Dante released my hand almost immediately after the ceremony ended, as though even touching me longer than necessary was inconvenient to him. Good. The feeling was mutual. As we walked back down the aisle together, camera lights lit up the room. I kept my head high despite the heartache I had. I refused to let these people see me break. Outside the cathedral, black luxury cars were lined up on the street with armed guards beside them. Mafia men everywhere. The realization made my heart ache again. This was my life now. One of the guards opened the car door for us. Dante entered first without a word, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve calmly before looking at me. “Get in.” Not even a “please.” I was so irritated. I stepped inside beside him. The car door shut immediately, removing all the noise outside. The car was filled with silence. Uncomfortable silence. I turned towards the window slightly, watching everything turn blurry on the outside. The further we drove from the cathedral, the more trapped I felt. “You are trembling.” His voice startled me. I looked down instantly and realized he was right. My hands were shaking. “I’m cold,” I lied. Dante looked at me for a moment before he removed his suit jacket and placed it beside me. “I don’t need your pity,” I muttered. “It was not pity.” The way he said it made me so furious. I hated that his voice affected me at all. For the rest of the drive, we didn’t speak to each other. Nearly forty minutes later, the gates appeared. Massive black iron gates slowly opened, revealing the De Luca estate beyond them. I was scared. The mansion did not look like a home, more like a nightmare wrapped in luxury. The property was surrounded by tall stone walls, with armed guards that stood at every entrance. It was beautiful. The car stopped near the front steps, and before I could gather my thoughts, Dante stepped out. A guard opened my door next. The moment I stepped on the ground, I felt it again, eyes watching and judging me. The front doors opened before we even reached them. Inside stood a woman around my age with sharp dark hair and a cold stare, enough to rival Dante’s. Isabella de Luca, Dante’s younger sister. I recognized her immediately from photographs. She gazed at my wedding ring slowly. “So this is the new replacement,” she said harshly. I felt butterflies through my stomach. “Excuse me?” Dante’s expression changed. “Isabella.” “What?” she asked carelessly. “I’m just surprised. I expected someone… stronger.” The insult affected me just as she wanted it to. I straightened my shoulders. “And I expected basic manners.” For the first time since meeting her, Isabella lost interest. Then, unexpectedly, she smiled. It wasn’t friendly. “Oh,” she murmured. “Maybe this could actually be entertaining.” Dante moved past both of us without another word. “Follow me.” I hated how he could naturally command things, yet I followed. The inside of the estate was even more intimidating than the outside. Marble floors stretched beneath towering ceilings, while expensive paintings covered nearly every wall. But despite all the luxury, the mansion felt empty. Like no one here actually lived. As we walked upstairs, I noticed the staff avoiding eye contact completely whenever Dante passed, with so much fear in their eyes. Dante stepped outside a large bedroom at the end of the hallway and opened the door. “This is your room.” “My room? Not ours?” I was so relieved. I stepped inside cautiously. The room was enormous, decorated in neutral colors with floor-length windows overlooking the estate grounds. It was so beautiful, yet still suffocating. “You’ll have anything you need provided for you,” Dante said from behind me. I turned slowly. “How generous.” He looked at me. “There are rules in this house, Alessia.” Of course there were. “You do not enter my office,” he continued calmly. “You do not leave the estate without security. And you stay away from mafia business.” I folded my arms. “You forgot one.” He said, “What one?” “I’m supposed to obey you too, right?” For the first time all day, something dangerous flickered behind his expression. He stepped closer slowly, too close. “You should stop testing me,” he said quietly. I hated how aware I suddenly became of his height, his voice, the faint scent of whiskey and expensive cologne lingering around him. But I refused to back down. “And if I don’t?” He gazed at me slowly. “Then this marriage will become very difficult for you.” The tension between us increased. Neither of us moved. Suddenly, someone knocked, and it interrupted the moment. Dante stepped back immediately with a pretentious look. It almost made me question what I had seen. A maid entered nervously, carrying several garment bags. “Your things, sir.” Without another glance at me, Dante turned toward the door. “We’ll speak tomorrow.” Then he left. The moment he closed the door, I could finally breathe. My entire body felt tense. The maid quickly placed the bags down before hurrying out again, clearly eager not to remain in the room too long. Once alone, I moved toward the window slowly, staring out into the darkness surrounding the estate. Everything felt unreal. Three months ago, I still had a father. Now I had a husband I hated and a prison disguised as a mansion. Suddenly, I heard male voices downstairs, and it pulled my attention away from the window. I became curious, so I stepped into the hallway quietly. The estate had gone mostly silent now, dim lighting casting shadows along the walls. I carefully moved towards the stairs. I stopped when I heard unfamiliar voices. “…she doesn’t know anything yet.” “She can’t find out.” “If she learns what really happened to her father, the Don will have blood everywhere.” I held my breath instantly. Then the floor creaked beneath me. Silence. One of the men downstairs spoke sharply. “Who’s there?”