Giorgia ~
"And this is your soon-to-be husband, Javier," Omar Rodriguez announced, indicating at his son. From the moment I had entered I had tried my best not to look at Javier, least of all maintain proper eye contact with him but now I'd have to do that. I finally looked up at him, my blue eyes meeting his striking green ones, they were as light as venom - sharp and deadly. He had a perfectly chiseled face, jawline sharper than a knife. He had a devilish beauty which allured me and scared me at the same time. My heart throbbed in my throat.
And then he took my hand in his, the size of his palm dwarfing mine, and pressed a soft kiss to my knuckles. A shiver coursed through me, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His touch was gentle yet commanding, a dangerous balance that left me unsettled. Before I could process the moment, Antonio stepped forward, his arm sliding protectively around my shoulder. At least he cared enough to do that much.
Something in Javier shifted instantly. His eyes darkened, the faintest flicker of anger igniting within their depths. The air between us grew taut, brimming with unspoken tension.
"I think you two should talk," Omar suggested, his tone light but laced with expectation.
Beside me, Antonio straightened, his grip on my shoulder tightening like a silent warning.
Javier extended his hand toward me, and for a fleeting moment, I considered what might happen if I refused. What I truly wanted to do was kick off my heels and bolt from the room, but that wasn't an option. Reluctantly, I placed my hand in his, his fingers curling firmly around mine.
My stomach churned, a mix of nerves and dread tangling in my chest as he led me toward the living room. Even in heels, I barely reached his shoulder, a realization that only added to my discomfort. Javier moved with an effortless dominance, each step exuding confidence and control, as though he owned the space-even in his enemy's house.
He wore a dark blue suit, so deep it was nearly black, paired with a perfectly fitted black shirt that hinted at the taut muscles beneath the fabric. He looked devastatingly attractive, but the reminder of who he was quickly doused any admiration.
We now stood in the living room near the massive window, the soft light casting shadows across his sharp features. Back in the ballroom, surrounded by fifty ruthless men-killers with more blood on their hands than years lived-I hadn't felt fear. But here, alone with him, my composure crumbled.
A creeping dread took hold, and I realized my hands had been trembling faintly all along. The awareness made me want to vanish entirely, especially since I was certain he'd noticed. There was no escaping his sharp, calculating gaze.
He didn't say anything just stared at me. His expressions were so blank that I felt a little self conscious cause I couldn't make out whether he found me pretty or ugly. He took out a small ring box from his pocket and removed the ring from the box. The ring had a beautiful big diamond in the middle but I don't know why it didn't please me, not as if he cared, but still. He took my hand and slipped it in my ring finger, and suddenly his grip on my hand became a little tighter, my attention shifed from the ring to him, "If I see any other man touching you or even looking at you the wrong way, I will slice him open in front of you, I don't care if he is family or not," he spoke in his deep voice, each word sending a shiver down my spine, I nodded quietly, and then I understood why he suddenly became angry when Antonio came up beside me.
It was infuriating, the way he had threatened me-as if I were some object to be guarded, not his fiancée. I felt a surge of indignation. I wasn't just anyone, and he had no right to speak to me like that.
We returned to the ballroom together, and almost immediately, Antonio appeared at my side, draping his arm over my shoulder in a protective gesture. I shot him a pointed glare, not because of Javier's warning, but because this display of concern was as shallow as the champagne flutes being passed around. If he truly cared, we wouldn't even be here.
"You good?" Antonio murmured low enough that only I could hear.
"I'm perfect," I replied with a forced smile that didn't reach my eyes, brushing his hand off my shoulder.
For a while, I made polite conversation with a few men whose names I already couldn't remember, smiling and nodding as they discussed business deals and alliances. My face began to ache from the effort of pretending to care. The weight of everything pressed down on me until I couldn't take it anymore.
Excusing myself, I slipped away from the crowd and headed straight for the restroom. Once inside, I locked the door and leaned against it, exhaling a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
Turning toward the mirror, I stared at my reflection. The girl looking back at me was stunning, delicate, and poised-exactly how my father had always wanted me to be. Every detail, from the curve of my lashes to the gloss on my lips, was polished to perfection. Yet, beneath the surface, I felt anything but.
I leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Is this really what you want?" I whispered to the reflection, my voice trembling.
But the girl in the mirror didn't answer. She just stared back, as hollow as I felt inside.
This was wrong. Everything happening around me, everything happening to me, was wrong. Javier stood exactly as I had expected him to-by that, I didn't mean he was striking or handsome. No, he looked ascendant, as though the world itself bent to his will.
I stared at the ring on my finger, my eyes blurring with tears. It wasn't just a symbol of union between two mafia families-it was the mark of his ownership. It was as if I were being transferred from one gilded cage to another, and I had no idea what this new one would look like.
I let the tears fall, allowing myself this small escape from the overwhelming reality. The pain was sharp-knowing I was nothing more than a pawn, a possession to be handed over. My feelings? They didn't even register. No one thought twice about what I wanted, what I felt. It didn't matter. I didn't matter.
A knock on the door broke my thoughts. I quickly wiped away the tears and opened it, finding Martina standing there. "The dinner's about to start. We should go," she said softly. She must have noticed my red eyes, but she didn't comment on it. Instead, she offered me a small, reassuring smile that I couldn't bring myself to return.
We made our way to the dining area and took the first two vacant seats we could find. But as soon as we sat down, I realized with a jolt that we were directly in front of Javier. His piercing green eyes locked onto mine again, the weight of his stare heavy and unyielding.
I quickly shifted my gaze, unable to hold his intense, unblinking stare for long. It felt like he could see straight through me.
"God, I've barely met these people, and I already can't stand them," Martina muttered under her breath, her voice thick with frustration. "Especially that bastard sitting next to Javier. He kept staring at me all night, and when I glared back, he actually had the nerve to smirk. What a shameless asshole." The anger in her voice was palpable.
She was likely talking about Ivan-Javier's younger brother. He was my age, but there was nothing about him that screamed eighteen. His physique was nearly as imposing as Javier's, muscled in all the right places, and I could spot the faint outlines of tattoos peeking from beneath his cufflinks. I could only imagine what his hands must look like, completely covered in ink.
Next to Ivan sat a blonde guy, his face marred by a deep, menacing scar that cut through his right eye and trailed down to his cheek. I hadn't exchanged any words with him, but if I remembered correctly, his name was Victor. Ivan smirked at Martina again, muttering something low to Victor, and the two of them shared a laugh, as if some private joke was only meant for them.
I couldn't help but notice that, aside from Martina, even Javier seemed irritated by their presence, as if he deeply regretted ever bringing them here.
My father stood up, the sharp clink of a spoon against his wine glass commanding everyone's attention. As the room fell silent, he raised his glass. "Today, the Cosa Nostra and the Mexican Cartels have finally united with the official marriage announcement of my daughter, Giorgia, and the soon-to-be Cartels Capo, Javier. May this union remain unyielding."
A chorus of cheers erupted as glasses clinked together, and the crowd quickly returned to their meals.
"The marriage will take place in two years," Javier announced, his voice cutting through the murmur of the room. Instantly, every head turned toward him. The salami I had been bringing to my mouth froze mid-air as I looked up at him. He was already staring at me, his face completely unreadable. He continued, "Giorgia is still too young. I expect a mature wife."
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Did he really just call me immature? In front of fifty people? My cheeks flamed with a mix of embarrassment and seething anger, but this time, I refused to look away. I stared back at him, silently challenging him.
For a long moment, neither of us budged. It felt as though we were locking eyes into each other's soul, each of us unwilling to break the silence. How dare he insult me like that, especially in front of so many people? This was our first meeting, and he had the nerve to humiliate me so publicly.
Finally, Javier broke the stare and shifted his gaze to his father. Omar looked just as shocked by the sudden announcement as my father and the rest of the guests. There was a silent understanding between them, one that passed quickly before Omar gave a brief nod, seemingly in agreement with his son's decision. Even Ivan and Victor looked taken aback, as if they hadn't expected this. It was clear: this was a surprise, even to his own family.
Surprisingly, my father didn't say a word, though his displeasure was evident in the tight set of his jaw. The only one who seemed somewhat convinced by Javier's declaration was my brother Antonio. His calm demeanor suggested that he had anticipated this turn of events.
The rest of the dinner continued in a tense silence, the weight of Javier's words lingering in the air.
Martina nudged me gently with her elbow, and I leaned closer to catch her words. "What the fuck just happened?" she muttered, barely above a whisper. "God knows what this beast is thinking."
I found myself wondering the same thing. What was going through his mind? Did he want to prolong his bachelor life, or was this some twisted plan the Cartels had orchestrated to destroy us? Whatever it was, I knew it wouldn't end well for me.
Yet, strangely, a part of me felt a sense of relief from the announcement. Two years. At least that gave me some time to prepare, though deep down, I knew nothing could truly prepare me for what was to come. I just hoped things wouldn't get any worse.
Just then, my phone pinged, interrupting my thoughts. It was a message from....
Daniel.