Emilia

Santo's POV "Santo!" Dante said for the tenth time. "The bridal shop to close by the time we get there." I ignored him as I concentrated on the goal. I was trying to calculate the amount of force I needed to hit the ball with so that I obtain an accurate hit. "Santo, do you even want to get married?" my best friend asked me. "Yes, more than anything in the world," I lied without even trying to sound convincing. I used the club to hit the ball with just enough force that it landed in the hole. "Perfect," I said to myself as I felt satisfied with my win. Golf is one was the most mentally challenging sports in the world. You need to be able to stay calm and focused under pressure. It takes skills that you thought you had but actually don't. It's no sport for a hothead like me but I love it. It calms me down when murderous thoughts run through my mind. Like right now for example. Dante kept interrupting me and reminding me why I was on the course today. But thanks to golf, I haven't murdered him as yet. "I didn't even know you were dating someone," he said confused. "Yet alone engaged." "Sorry for not telling you about everyone I sleep with," I said as I used my club to drag another ball closer to me. "I've seen all the women you sleep with," he said as he tried to figure me out. "I've never seen her. How the hell did you end up with the daughter of Enzo Mariano?" "I guess you haven't seen all the women I sleep with then," I said as I positioned myself to make another hit. I would tell him that this relationship was all business but Dante was one of those believers. He believes in love and whatever else bullshit people come up with these days. Maybe once he thinks I'm in love he'll stop bothering me. "What is she like?" he asked me. "What made you pick her of all people?" I sighed as I wiped my forehead with my handkerchief. "Dante, are you here to talk about my romantic life or play golf?" He's been holding the club since he got here and has not attempted to make one goal. "I came to talk of course," he shamelessly said. "Now answer the question." I rolled my eyes. "She's obedient." He scoffed. "She's obedient? That's the first thing you thought about when describing her? You're marrying her because she's obedient?" "What else do you want me to say, Dante?" I asked as I made another perfect shot. "I know you're not such a romantic but I was expecting you to say how happy she makes you feel or how fast your heart beats whenever you see her." "Yeah, I don't think so," I told him. I haven't even met her yet and I already hate her. From what I heard she's nothing but spoiled and annoying. As if I didn't have a lot to deal with already was getting a kid to take care of. I never wanted to get married. Enzo went and made a deal with my shitty father now I have to marry her. "Santo, this is someone's heart you're dealing with," he said. "If you don't love her, don't marry her." I stayed quiet. "Don't you think it's too soon? What's the rush?" he asked me. "You haven't even introduced her to us or your parents as yet." "You'll meet her when we get married," I told him. "Santo, you didn't get her pregnant or anything, right?" "What?" I asked as I turned to him. "Of course not." "Santo, you know I'm only asking to protect you," he explained. "She'sthe daughter of Enzo Mariano and our mafias aren't exactly working together." I know that Dante was just trying to look out for me. I appreciate it. He's been doing that ever since we were kids. That's why we are best friends. "I'll be fine, Dante," I assured him. Whoever this woman was she didn't scare me. I've done things that she couldn't even think about. The last thing I was going to do was be afraid of her. I put down my club and sighed. "Let's go. I'm not in the mood to golf anymore." ... "Are you sure you don't want her coming to pick out her dress?" Dante asked as he looked around nervously. We were the only men in here. All the other women in here were gawking at us. "You know the tradition," I told him as we looked around. "Since when do you follow traditions?" he asked. "Jaz picked her dress when we got married." I scratched my head. Dante was bombarding me with questions and I didn't know what the hell I was looking at "Mr. Valentino," one of the workers said as she walked up to me. "Do you need some help?" "Please," I said out of relief. She smiled. "What type of dance are you looking for?" "A wedding dress," I told her confidently. She laughed. "Sir, we only sell wedding dresses here. You need to be more specific." "Right," I agreed. "I am looking for a white wedding dress." Dante facepalmed beside me and I looked at him confused. What was his problem now? "Sir, what style are you looking for?" she asked. "We have ball gowns, mermaid, sheath, A-line, you name it! What do you want?" "I don't know," I answered honestly. Who knew wedding dress shopping was this stressful? She thought for a second. "Okay, what is your bride's style? How does she like to dress?" I cleared my throat. "I don't know that either." Dante looked at me. "You're in love with her but you don't know her style?" "Okay," she said as she thought. "What is her body type? If we know that maybe we can pick out a dress that suits her." This was starting to piss me off. “I don’t know, okay?” I snapped. “I don’t know anything about her.” Dante looked at me. “How about we bring in the girls and they can help you choose?” “I can’t,” I told him. “Today is the only time I’m free.” “Why don’t you send her pictures so she can pick which one she likes?” he suggested. I didn’t have her number. “I’ll pick one,” I finally said as I walked up to the dresses. Even though I don’t know her, I imagine that she is oddly sweet so I ruled out a few dresses that would define her as anything else. I am not a fan of gossip but for the purpose of my decision, I will take it into consideration. She was spoiled so there was no doubt about it that she wanted to be the center of attention. I, therefore, ruled out any dress that was too boring that no one would look at her but also not too bold that would distract people from looking at her face. My eyes landed on a dress and I immediately knew that it was the one. “That one,” I pointed. The worker smiled. "Good choice, sir!" "Looks like your sense of fashion isn't total s**t after all," Dante joked and I rolled my eyes. I was pleased with my decision. Emilia's POV "I can't even pick out my dress," I complained to Bella as she brushed my hair. "In their mafia, the groom usually does it." "I'm sorry, Em," She frowned as she looked at me in the mirror. "What did Enzo say?" I rolled my hands into fists as the thought of my father angered me. "He was completely fine with it. He said he had done the same thing with my mom. It's completely unfair." "Look on the bright," she smiled. "At least you'll be in your first relationship." I stayed quiet as the thought of that scared me. All my life I have been mostly isolated from others. I was homeschooled my whole life and the closest I have ever gotten to having a relationship was when I had my first kiss with one of the guards. Of course when my father found out, he 'fired' him and I never saw him again. "You're all ready now," Bella said as she placed the brush on the table next to us. I watched myself in the mirror. I wore a white dress shirt with jeans. I didn't want to dress too fancy to make it look like I tried but I also didn't want to look too casual. This will be the first time I will be meeting him. "What do you think he will look like?" Bella asked as she added a bit of blush to my face. "He's from the Sicilian Mafia so probably old, bald, ugly and..." I immediately trailed off when I realized I had nothing good to say about him. "What's wrong?" Bella asked. I shook my head. "I can't do this." She sighed as she hugged me. "It's going to be okay." I pulled away from our hug. "How do you know? Everyone keeps saying that it's going to be okay when they don't know shit." "Em-" "He's here," mom said as she walked in. She smiled when she saw me. "You look so pretty." I sighed as I started walking out of the room. "Let's get this over with." I started making my way down the stairs before pausing midway. There he stood in the middle of the living room dressed in a tailored, raven-black suit that complemented his broad shoulders. Beneath his suit was his pristine white dress shirt which failed miserably in hiding his abs. His hand, which had on his polished, stainless-steel wristwatch, held his phone while his other gently rested in the pocket of his pants. My breaths got heavier as my eyes traveled to his face. His jet-black hair was perfectly styled to frame his face and the contrast of the dark hue against his light complexion accentuated his features, more especially, highlighting the chiseled lines of his jaw and cheekbones. I automatically held my breath when his dark eyes landed on mine. "He looks neither ugly nor bald," Bella whispered into my ear which made me jump. Mom glared at me. "Don't be rude Emilia, go greet him." I cleared my throat before continuing down the stairs. As I approached him, a pleasant aroma filled the air. My stomach began to flutter. Was I nervous? When I reached about 6 feet from him, it hit me how tall he was. He couldn't have been any shorter than 6'4. "Hello," I nervously said as I stretched out my hand. He watched my hand for a second before slightly bowing his head to acknowledge me. I immediately lowered my hand out of embarrassment. I looked back at mom and Bella, who both had sympathetic looks on their face. The front door opened to reveal papá. Dad's eyes immediately widened. "Valentino, you're early." He turned around to look at my father and my eyes widened when his gun briefly showed from under his jacket. Dad walked over to us. "Emilia, this is Santo. Santo, this is Emilia." He turned to look at me once again, this time his eyes showed a hint of anger towards me. A few seconds of awkward silence passed before papá picked up on what was going on. "I'll go get the papers," he said before walking off. I looked back to see Bella and mom gone. When I turned back to him, he was back on his phone. "Could I get you something to drink?" I asked and he ignored me which pissed me off. "Hey, what the hell is your problem?" He paused before looking down on me. He then put away his phone before taking two large steps towards me which left little space between us. My heart started beating faster as his behavior scared me. "My problem is that I have to marry you." His deep voice sent vibrations through my stomach which made me lose my train of thought. I immediately shook my head before glaring at him. "It's not like I want to marry you either. I am forced to." He scoffed before looking away he in anger. "I can't believe I'm doing this." "Well don't," I bitterly said to him. "You can leave your guns with us and leave." My eyes lowered to his gun which was popping out. Without thinking, I reached to get it and he immediately grabbed my hand. I pulled away my hand. "Don't touch me." "If you try to grab my gun again, I will kill you. I don't care who your father is," he said with overwhelming anger in his tone. A throat cleared and papá walked up to us. "Valentino," he said sternly. "Control your damn kid. She's like an untamed dog," he said before taking the paper from dad and walking out. I glared at papá, "Are you seriously going to let me marry that asshole?" "That 'asshole' is a great asset to us. I'm being lenient with him because I am friends with his father. He doesn't want any of this but he will thank us later." "That still doesn't give him the right to be an asshole." "Valentino is a good man, he is just a little angry but he will come around. He is not going to hurt you, I promise." "I hate this," I said before walking back to my room. I don't like him. He is rude, full of himself, and disregards everyone's feelings. And that's only the few bad things I've noticed in the short time that I met him. As soon as I opened the door, I was immediately greeted by Bella and mom. I ignored them and grabbed my wipes. I rubbed my skin so hard that it started to burn. I wanted the makeup off. I shouldn't have even tried. "What's wrong, Emmy?" mom asked as she and Bella walked in. I ignored her as I continued to take off the makeup. "Emilia Mariano, stop!" she shouted as she grabbed my hand. "You're going to bruise your face. Tell me what's wrong." "Him!" I shouted. "He's wrong. It's already bad that I have to get married. Why do I have to marry him out of all people?" "Emilia," mom started to say but I knew she had nothing to say that would comfort me. I pulled my hand out of her hold and continued taking off the makeup. "I would like to be left alone." "Emilia," mom said again before I turned to her. "Please," I requested and she frowned. "Let's go, Elle," Bella said. "What can I do to make you happy? I hate seeing you like this," she asked. My mom had a heart of gold. She'd rather be the one suffering than see anyone she loves suffer. "Can you cancel the wedding?" I asked. "Emilia, you know I can't," she said. I continued to remove the makeup. "Well then, no, you can't." Today began my lifetime of misery.