The Devil's Bride

Serena POV I should have been happy. At least, that's what everyone expected from a bride on her wedding day. The dress hanging around my body was a masterpiece of lace and silk. Diamonds sparkled at my ears and around my neck. Downstairs, hundreds of guests had gathered to celebrate what the newspapers were already calling the wedding of the year. Everything looked perfect. Everything except me. I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom and barely recognized the woman staring back. My dark curls had been pinned into an elegant style, and my makeup was flawless. I looked like a princess from a fairy tale. The problem was that fairy tales usually involved love. This wedding involved politics. A soft knock sounded on the door before one of the stylists peeked inside. "Your father is here, Miss Rossi." My stomach tightened instantly. "Send him in." The stylists hurried out of the room as if they couldn't leave fast enough. A moment later, my father stepped inside. Lorenzo Rossi had a reputation that stretched far beyond Italy. Rivals feared him. Enemies disappeared because of him. Men twice his size lowered their eyes when he entered a room. To the world, he was a ruthless mafia king. To me, he was simply Dad. His gaze moved over me slowly before a small smile appeared on his face. "You look just like your mother." The words caught me off guard. My mother had been dead for thirteen years, but there were moments when her absence still felt fresh. Hearing my father mention her was rare enough to make my chest ache. "You've said that before," I replied softly. "Because it's true." For a second, neither of us spoke. I noticed then that something seemed different about him. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. There was tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there yesterday. The closer I looked, the more I realized he seemed worried. That wasn't normal. My father didn't worry. My father was the reason other people worried. "You okay?" I asked. His eyes met mine through the mirror. A strange expression crossed his face. "Do you want the truth?" I turned toward him fully. "Since when do you ask permission before giving it?" A faint laugh escaped him, but it disappeared almost immediately. "You don't have to do this, Serena." I blinked. "What?" "The wedding." For a moment, I honestly thought I'd misheard him. I stared at him in disbelief. "You're telling me this now? An hour before the ceremony?" His jaw tightened. "I mean it." I folded my arms. "Then why spend the last year arranging it?" Silence filled the room. The answer never came. Instead, he walked toward the window and looked outside. "I've made mistakes," he said quietly. The words sounded so unlike him that I wasn't sure how to respond. "What kind of mistakes?" His gaze remained fixed on the view. "The kind fathers spend the rest of their lives regretting." A chill ran through me. The conversation had suddenly become strange. Too strange. "Dad..." He turned before I could finish. The vulnerable expression vanished as quickly as it had appeared. The mafia boss was back. "You'll be safe with Damien." I frowned. "That's not exactly comforting." His lips twitched. "You don't know him." "Neither do you." "I know enough." I shook my head. Damien Moretti was the heir of the Moretti family, our longtime rivals. The alliance between our families was supposed to bring peace after years of conflict. At least, that's what everyone claimed. Personally, I thought it sounded like two powerful men making decisions for everyone else. "Do you trust him?" I asked. The question lingered between us. To my surprise, my father answered immediately. "With your life." I searched his face, expecting hesitation. There wasn't any. Whatever else my father believed, he meant those words. Before I could ask why, another knock interrupted us. One of the guards stepped inside. "It's time, sir." My heart sank. Time. The moment I had been dreading all day had finally arrived. My father extended his arm toward me. For a brief second, I considered refusing. Then I slipped my hand through his arm and allowed him to lead me from the room. The chapel was already full when we arrived. Rows of politicians, business leaders, celebrities, and crime bosses filled the seats. Expensive suits and designer dresses blended together beneath the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. As soon as I appeared, every conversation stopped. Hundreds of eyes turned toward me. I hated it. Keeping my head high, I followed my father down the aisle. At the end stood Damien Moretti. The man I was about to marry. He was taller than I remembered, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. Dark hair framed a face that belonged on a magazine cover rather than in organized crime. Several women in the audience openly stared at him. Unfortunately, they weren't wrong. Damien was handsome. Dangerously handsome. The kind of handsome that came with warnings attached. His dark eyes locked onto mine as I approached. There was no smile. No warmth. No sign that he was excited to be here. Oddly enough, that made two of us. When we reached the altar, my father placed my hand in Damien's. His fingers closed around mine. Strong. Steady. Warm. For some reason, that surprised me. I glanced at my father, expecting him to move away immediately. Instead, he remained standing there for a second longer. His eyes met mine. Something flickered across his face. Regret. Fear. Love. I couldn't tell. Then he leaned closer. So close only I could hear him. "I'm sorry." My breath caught. "What?" But he had already stepped away. I watched him return to his seat, confusion swirling through my mind. Sorry for what? The wedding? The arrangement? Something else entirely? The ceremony began before I could think about it further. The priest spoke about unity, family, and commitment. His words drifted past me without meaning. My attention kept returning to my father's strange behavior. By the time the vows started, an uneasy feeling had settled in my stomach. "Do you, Damien Moretti, take Serena Rossi to be your lawful wife?" the priest asked. "I do." Damien's voice was calm and firm. The priest turned to me. "And do you, Serena Rossi, take Damien Moretti to be your lawful husband?" Every eye in the chapel focused on me. I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. The strange feeling in my stomach had suddenly grown stronger. Something felt wrong. Terribly wrong. A sharp c***k shattered the silence. For one brief second, my mind refused to understand what had happened. Then the second gunshot came. Screams exploded around the chapel. Guests dove beneath seats while guards reached for their weapons. Panic spread through the room like wildfire. My eyes searched frantically for my father. When I found him, the world stopped. Blood stained the front of his suit. He swayed unsteadily. Then another shot rang out. My father collapsed. "Dad!" The scream tore from my throat. I rushed forward, but strong arms wrapped around me before I could take more than a few steps. Damien. "Let me go!" "Stay down." His voice cut through the chaos. Around us, people were running in every direction. More guards stormed into the chapel with guns drawn. I fought against Damien's grip. "My father!" His jaw tightened. The look in his eyes told me everything before he spoke. "Serena..." The single word shattered something inside me. No. No. This couldn't be happening. My father couldn't be lying on that floor. He couldn't be dead. Not him. Not today. Tears blurred my vision as the chaos continued around us. Then, through the crowd, I noticed something strange. A man standing near the rear exit. Unlike everyone else, he wasn't running. He wasn't panicking. He was watching. Watching me. Our eyes met for only a second before he disappeared through the door. Gone. But in that moment, a certainty settled deep inside me. This wasn't a random attack. Someone had planned this. Someone wanted my father dead. And whoever they were, I was going to find them.