Chapter 2
1122 Words
Elena’s P.O.V
Silence. Heavy. Suffocating
Jonathan has to be joking. He can’t be serious. My father wouldn’t do this to me. He wouldn’t
Someone touches my shoulder, and I look up at Jonathan, “Is this a joke?” I ask, my voice shaking. I realize my whole body is shaking.
Sebastian Russo… I’ve never seen him, but I’ve heard stories about him. Stories of how ruthless he is in the business world and the board room. Stories of how he’s driven so many companies out of business and pushed them underground. A shiver runs down my spine. Now I'm tied to a life with him. Marriage…in ninety days…to him.
“What the hell?” Valentina—My cousin speaks up angrily, “She’s going to get married to Sebastian Russo, the king of the underworld? That’s so stupid”.
“Valentina. Stop it. You’re not helping.” Auntie Bianca scolds, looking at Valentina suspiciously, like she’s telling her to hold her tongue.
“I’m sorry mum, but that’s absurd. she can’t marry him, he's dangerous”. she claps back.
“What do you mean king of the underworld?” I ask, looking at Valentina.
“Um…I just meant..king of the business world. How he’s driven so many companies out of business.” she says, looking away from me.
I want to ask her to clarify but I’m interrupted.
“Jonathan, is there anything else she can do? Anything? Does the will say anything?” Auntie Bianca asks hopefully, ignoring Valentina.
“I’m afraid not”. Jonathan replies. “There is no other clause, and the will has been formalized”.
“What the f**k was Lorenzo thinking? He’s feeding her to the wolves!” Auntie Bianca yells.
That definitely does not make me feel better. In fact, that makes me feel worse.
“Thank you, Jonathan,” I say, standing up and walking to the door. I feel like I’m in a dream, like I’m living someone else’s life because this surely can’t be my life.
“Where are you going, Lena?” Valentina asks, using the nickname she gave me since we were kids.
“Home,” I reply calmly, sounding unlike myself, my voice is steady, unnerving as I say, “I need some time alone.” Then I shut the door and get in my car, with Giovanni already in the driver's seat.
“Home, Miss?” He asks.
“Yes, Gio. Thank you,” I replied calmly. I can’t break just yet. I feel my eyes stinging with tears, but I beg them to go back in, turning to look out the window.
New York City.
Even at night, the streets pulse with life—headlights cutting through the darkness, horns blaring impatiently, pedestrians walking down the sidewalks, laughing without a care in the world, like the world hasn’t just shifted underneath my feet.
I wonder if their lives ever get ripped apart in a single sentence.
I wonder…
...if Sebastian Russo even knows about the arranged marriage.
Because something tells me…
He’s not the kind of man you survive walking away from.
;) 🖤 ;)
Sebastian’s P.O.V
My Phone buzzes on my desk. I answer it.
“She’s been informed, boss”. Marco says.
“How did she take it?” I ask, flipping through the documents on my desk.
“I’m not really sure, boss, she seemed…calm,” Marco says hesitantly.
Calm? Just calm? I mean, I didn't expect her to cry, but calm? That's strange.
“Hmm…What’s the word on our latest shipment?” I ask, trying to take my mind off the enigma called Elena.
“The boys and I are at the warehouse waiting for the goods to arrive,” Marco replies instantly. “Goods should arrive any minute,” he continued.
“ Keep me posted. Did you deliver the surprise?” I ask.
“Yes, boss. Left it on her doorstep myself,” he replies.
“Good,” I say. I end the call and lean back in my chair, turning towards the floor-to-ceiling windows, admiring New York beneath me. I allow myself a moment of thought.
She took the news calmly.
…interesting.
Most women would have panicked. Cried. Begged. Lorenzo raised her better than I thought.
…or maybe she just doesn’t understand what she’s getting into.
For some reason, I can’t seem to get her face at the chapel out of my mind. Fortunately for me, I don’t settle in my thoughts for too long. My door opens.
“Sebastian,” My father’s voice echoes in the room.
Unfortunately for me, it’s my father.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask sarcastically, already getting annoyed at his surprise visit.
He takes a seat in the chair opposite mine. “Today is the girl’s 23rd birthday,” He reminds me.
I lean back in my chair. “And?”
“I’m sure you know what you’re supposed to do,” he says, voice stern. “Don’t f**k this up for me, boy”. He continues, an underlying warning in his tone.
“You don’t need to remind me. I know what’s at stake, I’m not your boy,” I spat back.
“Good,” he says, standing up to adjust his suit. “Wouldn’t want s**t to go south before it’s even started,” he continues, walking out the door and slamming it.
Ninety days. Elena Moretti has no idea what she’s walking into.
;) 🖤 ;)
Elena’s P.O.V
The car pulls up in front of my apartment building. “Thank you, Gio,”I say as I climb out of the car and walk into the building. Going up the elevator, I try to understand what my father was thinking when he came up with that clause. What’s his plan? Why did he transfer all the shares to me? I know nothing about running a business.
Pulling out my keys from my purse, I notice a box on my doorstep, and I look around, hoping I would see the person who dropped it.
I walk into my apartment, box in hand, and open it. The lid lifts smoothly.
I move away the black tissue paper, peeling it back slowly—and my breath catches.
It’s a dress. Black silk. Form-fitting. The kind of dress that doesn’t just scream wealth–it commands it.
I lift it carefully, the fabric spilling between my fingers. A designer tag hangs from the collar. Dolce & Gabbana.
Of course.
Beneath the dress sits a small envelope. My name is written across it precisely.
Happy Birthday Elena.
I open it, and I gasp, the box falling on the floor.
Tomorrow. 8 p.m.
Wear this.
-S.R
- Writer
