Vowed in Blood

Setting:A sun-drenched coastal estate in France. The sound of plates crashing down is heard with Mr. Montclair’s angry voice “Tu dis n'importe quoi ! (You’re talking nonsense!) How can she refuse to marry a prestigious man of gold standards? That is totally absurd!” Inès who has worked in the Montclair’s household for decades signaled a lower level household staff to pick up the broken pieces of the plates scattered across the marbled floor. “What is absurd is you compelling your only daughter into marital relations with the Moretti’s. You know how vile that family is. They will eat her alive!” “Those are just rumors from their enemies and Zoraya is old enough to handle herself ” Mr Montclair argues. “She is just twenty two. She is too young to be shipped off to an Italian Mafia dynasty. She knows nothing about the business Mr Montclair ”. Inès wasn’t backing down either. Mr Montclair scoffed “Bien Sûr (of course), why would she know anything about the business when you have raised her in a bubble of fantasies? Where is she anyway?” “You know where she is. Sculpting as usual ”she replied. Mr Montclair sighs “Bring her to me at once” Inès nods and leaves the room. He slumps into an armchair as he rubs his temple. His empire was on the brink of collapse but his daughter doesn’t seem to understand that it could be saved only IF she agrees to marry the son of Dante Moretti. He was fully aware of the ruthless nature of Dante’s son but he always believed that life was a matter of risks and survival. His daughter would never give in to the Italians temptation, She is too smart for that. “Papa?” His only child and daughter interrupts his train of thought. Zoraya carries the focused, weary air of someone who has just wrestled a soul out of the ground. Her hair is a vibrant, unruly copper-red , pulled back into a disorganized bun which failed to contain several strands now plastered to her forehead with sweat and grit. Her sharp cheekbones catches the afternoon light with a pair of observant, forest-green eyes. Despite the smears of grey mud across the bridge of her straight nose and a smudge across her jawline, her features remain undeniably intact and alluring. She is dressed in heavy denim dungarees of dried mud platters, one strap is slightly loose. Her tank top, reveals her forearms and elegant body. And her hands still caked in moist clay. A high rank beauty who isn’t afraid to get her hands, and her life completely dirty. “Mon tournesol” (my sunflower) Montclair says as he stretches his hands towards her. “What does your papa have to do to make you marry the man of my choice?” “Papa not this again” She rolls her eyes as she rests her hand on her waist. “I cannot simply marry a man who you think is good for me just because he runs the biggest scam in the country ” He stands up so quickly the armchair screeches “The Morettis are people of exclusivity. They have vast properties- lands and real estate holdings across Italy. They control half of the economic system and getting joined with their family, means eternal wealth”. “Arranged marriages are so outdated papa. I mean how do I form a bond with someone who hasn’t even been informed about my existence?” Zoraya pulls her father back to the chair. “Nonsense! You think your mother and I had a bond when we got married? Marriage molds every missing pieces together”. Montclair tries to explain to his daughter. “Then you can go ahead and marry him instead since you’re so desperate ” Zoraya fires. Montclair gasps as if he’s been struck. “I provide you the finest life and best education and in return i get a stubborn child. Zoraya I promised his father (Dante Moretti) that this union would bridge our dynasties . And I am honoring my word because of my loyalty!”