**Isabelle's.**
I should've known. I should've known that Matteo Antonio wouldn't care about my feelings. Not now. Not ever.
But now... Now, it's too late.
The first shot rings out, a deafening crack that slices through the tension in the room. The sound of the bullet hitting its target is followed by a sickening thud. One servant falls to the floor, his body lifeless in an instant. My heart slams against my ribcage, and I freeze. My breath stalls in my throat. The room is filled with the scent of blood, and my skin crawls with terror.
Matteo doesn't flinch. His eyes don't leave mine for even a second. He watches me, cold and emotionless, as the servant's body lies crumpled at his feet. He simply turns the gun, and without so much as a blink, fires again.
Another shot. Another body.
Each shot is a hammer blow to my chest. I can't breathe. I can't think. The world spins around me, the noise of gunfire ringing in my ears. But through it all, Matteo's eyes stay locked on mine—unblinking, unfeeling, as though I'm the only thing in the room that matters.
"Matteo! No! Please, stop!" I beg, my voice trembling, barely a whisper. But it's no use. The third shot echoes, and another servant hits the ground, lifeless. A scream dies in my throat, smothered by the weight of the horror unfolding before me.
I can't take it. I can't breathe. I can't watch another person die.
I snap.
"STOP! PLEASE, STOP! I'LL LISTEN! PLEASE, STOP!" My voice cracks under the weight of my desperation. It feels like I'm begging for my own life. I reach out, hands trembling, trying to grab his wrist. I need him to stop. I need this to end. "I'll wear the dress, okay? I'll do whatever you want. Just don't kill anyone else. Please."
I'm on the verge of breaking. I feel like I'm losing my mind, but I have to keep fighting.
But Matteo doesn't even glance down at my hand. He doesn't flinch. His eyes stay locked on mine—calculating, cold. It's like I'm nothing more than a pawn to him, a piece in some twisted game.
Then, just when I think I might actually get through to him, he speaks, his voice low and mocking, "You look good begging, Isabella." His words slide over me like venom, his gaze sharpening as he watches my reaction. "But don't think that'll change anything."
My chest tightens. It feels like the world has tilted, and I'm falling into some abyss. My body trembles, not just from fear, but from the sickening realization that I mean nothing to him. Absolutely nothing.
The fourth shot rings out. A young woman—who was only trying to help—collapses to the ground. The room falls silent for a moment, as if the entire world is holding its breath.
I want to scream. I want to run. But I'm paralyzed, frozen in place by the terror that's consuming me. I'm trapped. There's no escape.
"Please," I whisper, voice hoarse. "Please stop..."
But Matteo just stares at me, his expression still impassive. He lowers the gun slightly, but his eyes never leave mine. "You'll wear the dress, then?" His voice is smooth, like a snake's, laced with amusement. "You'll marry me?"
I nod, my chest heavy with the weight of my decision. I feel like a fool, a coward, but what choice do I have? If I don't, more will die. More will fall at his feet.
"Yes," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "I'll marry you."
For a moment, there's nothing but the echo of my voice hanging in the air, the lingering gunfire still ringing in my ears. Matteo watches me, his eyes cold and unfeeling.
"Good," he says, his lips curling into a faint, cruel smile. "I knew you'd come around eventually."
The weight of the moment crashes down on me. My heart sinks, and I realize—there's no going back. I'm trapped in this world, bound by something I can't escape. Not now. Not ever.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight, but in this moment, I am nothing. A pawn. And Matteo… he's the king.
Suddenly, his cold fingers reach up to touch my cheek, and I flinch, expecting him to slap me, or to hurt me further. But instead, his hand brushes against my skin, wiping away the tears I didn't even realize were streaming down my face. His touch is cold, unsettling, and for a moment, I freeze in place. The gesture feels so wrong, so twisted, like he's savoring my weakness, my despair.
"You look beautiful when you beg," Matteo murmurs, his voice a soft whisper as he caresses my cheek. His thumb lingers on my skin for a moment longer than necessary before he pulls his hand away, his eyes never leaving mine.
I want to recoil from him, to break free of his hold, but my body feels like lead, trapped under the weight of what I've just witnessed and what I've just agreed to.
I blink through my tears, my heart pounding in my chest, and I force myself to speak—my voice shaky, desperate. "I wasn't going to marry you, you know that? Why do you keep pressing for this wedding? I don't want this. I don't want any of it. Please… just stop." The words feel like a cry of defeat, but I can't help it. My heart aches. This wasn't my choice. It was never my choice.
Matteo's expression shifts, but only slightly. He looks at me with that cold, calculating gaze, as if measuring the weight of my words. There's no kindness there, no sympathy. Only the faintest glimmer of amusement.
"This isn't about what you want," he murmured, his voice low and deliberate as he leaned closer, his breath grazing my ear. "This is a matter of family business. You're just too stubborn to understand that."
His words hit me like a slap. And deep down, I know he's right. Not because I want to marry him, but because I have no choice. I've just become another pawn in his game, and there's no way out.
The room is silent again, but the tension is thick, suffocating. The world is closing in on me, and the weight of the blood on the floor seems to drag me further into the darkness.
I want to scream. I want to run. But I'm stuck. Trapped.
In the end, I wore the dress. My hands trembled as I adjusted the fabric, the weight of it feeling heavier than it should, like it carried the burden of my choices—or lack of them. Standing there, my voice hollow, I recited the vows, each word sticking in my throat like shards of glass.
I didn't do it because I wanted to. I didn't do it for peace or for tradition.
I did it because I knew. I *knew*. If I refused again, it wouldn't be me who paid the price. It would be someone else—someone innocent. Someone like the servant whose blood still lingered in the corners of my mind, staining my thoughts.
This wasn't a wedding. It was a war, and Matteo had already made it clear—he wasn't above using collateral damage to win.
If only this wasn't for my family I would have actually taken the blame I wouldn't have cared less about who died but it's my family in the line
If only this weren't about my family, I'd let it all burn. I wouldn't have cared whose blood stained the floor, wouldn't have flinched at the sound of another shot echoing through the room. Let Matteo do his worst. Let him unleash hell.
But this wasn't just about me.
It was my family strung up on the line, dangling over a pit with no bottom. Their lives, their futures—all held hostage in this twisted game Matteo was playing. One wrong word, one moment of defiance, and they'd be the ones to pay. I could see their faces in my mind, the weight of their trust pressing down on me like a vice.
I wanted to scream, to rip this veil from my head and tell him I didn't care, that I'd rather die than stand here and play his puppet. But it wasn't my life on the chopping block. Not anymore.
This wasn't about love, loyalty, or even survival. It was about duty. About keeping the people I loved safe, no matter how much of myself I had to sacrifice.
I swallowed hard, the fabric of the dress suddenly feeling tighter, suffocating. The vows I was about to say weren't just words—they were chains, binding me to a life I didn't choose. My voice would betray me soon, trembling as I spoke promises I didn't mean.
But I had no choice. Not if I wanted to protect them.
Because if I didn't say those words, if I didn't become the wife Matteo demanded, I knew exactly what he would do.
He wouldn't hesitate.
He'd line them up, one by one, just like the servants. He'd make sure I watched as everything I cared about was taken from me.
And so, I stood there, trembling but resolute, the taste of bitterness coating my tongue as I prepared to utter the words that would seal my fate. Because in Matteo's world, there was no mercy. And I couldn't afford to lose anyone else.