Bella and the Beast

3

Bella’s POV

I stared at him, dumbfounded. "Tell me you're joking, Dad. I literally just survived death! I don't want to get married to anyone right now."

He barely glanced at me. "You're better off married. That way, you can cause less trouble for me."

My stomach churned. I hadn’t eaten anything today, but I felt like throwing up. The dull ache in my chest was proof I was still hurt by his words, even though I was older now.

My mind was reeling, everything within me screaming to tell him off, to finally stand up for myself, but I was too weak, doomed to forever be a puppet to my father.

"You could've at least warned me," I said, my voice quieter than my spirit. "I'm not even dressed properly for a date."

My father's lips twitched, almost amused. "Oh, so you could run away like a teenager? Aren't you tired of that life, Isabella? You're turning 24 in a few days."

I glanced at my reflection in the car window. My hair was a mess, my clothes wrinkled and casual. Those Hazel eyes looked lifeless now, the little fighter I had in me gone after the doctor’s visit. All that stared back was an empty shell. But even in my lowest moment, I knew marriage wasn’t the way out.

I shook my head. "No. I’m not doing this."

My father’s face hardened, a cold, commanding mask replacing the softer expression. It was a face I knew all too well. "You are, and if you embarrass me or our family name in any way, there will be consequences."

I stared at him, the weight of his control pressing down on me. I knew my father wasn’t bluffing. Growing up in a mafia family meant punishments were a lot harsher than for any regular rich girl. The thought of it made me shudder.

Taking a deep breath, I yanked the car door open and stepped out onto the busy street. The world around me spun for a moment, the noise of the city and my rapidly beating heart blending into a dizzying rush.

I took a few shaky steps into the restaurant, and almost immediately, I switched personas to the prestigious Bella Powers, despite looking like I had just rolled out of bed.

The restaurant was nearly empty, the workers quietly murmuring until they noticed me. Their gazes shifted—judgmental, curious, then amused. If they weren’t under workplace restrictions, I bet they’d be filming me for social media. I stood out like a sore thumb in this elegant setting. Good. Let them judge.

One of the staff members offered to lead me to my table. I guess they were expecting me. The usher opened the door, revealing a private blue room with a lone table—and a man already dining without his date.

He was handsome, in a way that felt too polished, almost intimidating. His hair was neatly combed, a few strands falling over his forehead. His sharp features looked as though they were carved from stone. His deep brown eyes briefly met mine, and for a moment, I saw something flicker in them—curiosity, maybe amusement—but it disappeared quickly. He looked completely at ease in his tailored suit, but I could sense the arrogance in his confident pose.

Forcing myself to walk with a semblance of grace, I approached the table. I stopped just short of it, crossing my arms defiantly. "I’m assuming you already know why I’m here," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He didn’t even look at me, continuing to cut his steak. "Sit down, Bella. There’s no audience here, no need to cause a scene." His voice was low, powerful, and commanding, making me feel an odd urge... to submit.

Rubbing my shoulder, I sat down but quickly pushed aside that feeling, letting my attitude take over. "I don’t want to get married, and I know you don’t either. So why don’t we save time and call it a day?"

He paused, finally lifting his gaze to lock onto mine. The intensity in his eyes made me falter for a second, looking away before I could flinch. "You may not want to get married," he said, his voice steady, "but I do, and I want to marry you."

I swallowed hard, my mind racing as his words hung in the air between us. I wasn’t expecting that. Who would want to be dragged into a loveless marriage? My pulse quickened as I searched for something to lift the tension in the room.

"You don’t even know me," I shot back, my voice wavering despite trying to sound confident. "Do you even know what it means to get into a commitment? It’s not a business deal."

He chuckled, almost mockingly. "Oh, but that’s exactly what it is. A business deal that would've been sealed yesterday if that tragedy hadn’t occurred."

"And do you know I almost died?" I snapped.

The arrogant bastard smiled again. "You’re alive, aren’t you?" His tone was calm, calculated. "I’m going to offer you a deal, one I hope you'll be sensible enough not to reject."

A chill ran down my spine—not from fear exactly, but from the way he spoke, as if he had everything figured out, the outcome already set.

"I don’t want to be a pawn in whatever game you and my father are playing," I said, my voice firmer now as I tried to regain control of the conversation. "I’m not some damsel you can save or manipulate."

He raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly, his eyes darkening with intensity. "Who said anything about saving you, Bella?"

“Then why? Why do you want to marry me?”

“Because my grandfather insists it must be you,” he said , resuming eating.

My brows crossed, confusion deepening. “I don’t even know your grandfather so why would he want me to marry you?”

“Don Giovanni. That’s my grandfather hope that helps.” The sascasm in his voice couldn’t be compared to my shock at the name he mentioned.

I froze. The name alone sent jolts of fear swaming through my system. He was by far the most feared crime head in the whole country. No one crossed his path and lived. My mouth went dry. What has my father gotten me into?