A Bride in Chains
Elena Ricci had always known she was a pawn.
Tonight, as she stood in the grand ballroom of the Ricci Estate, adorned in expensive silk and diamonds. She felt the weight of her date pressing against her chest like an iron cage. Her father had spent years preparing her for this moment- this night where she would be handed over like an offering, her name tied to a man she had never chosen.
Luca Deluca.
The enemy.
The man she would now call husband.
The chandeliers above cast a golden glow over the guests, their laughter and murmured conversation filling the space like the hum of a battlefield before the first shot. The Ricci's and the Deluca's had been at war for decades, their rivalry staining the streets with blood. But tonight, they raised their glasses in celebration. A marriage to end violence. A truce written in vows instead of bullets.
Elena stood at the entrance of the ballroom, her father's grip firm around her wrist.
"Smile", he orders under his breath.
She forced one.
Her dress was perfection, fitted like armor, but she felt like anything but safe. As she stepped forward, all eyes turned to her watching, waiting, this is it, the moment I give up the law piece of myself.
At the altar, Luca stood stall, his back suit crisp, his silver eyes unreadable.
She has heard the rumors about him, the youngest Deluca heir, cold and calculating, a man who has never lost a battle. He has built his empire on fear and loyalty, his name spoken in husband tones even by his enemies.
And now, he is her's.
Or rather, she was his.
As she reached home, he extended a hand. His finger was warm, steady but they did not Linger. There was no tenderness here. No illusion of love.
Just a business transaction sealed with a ring.
The priest's voice drowned in Latin, but Elena barely heard it over the pounding of her heart.
She risked a glance at Luca, but his expression remained impassive. What are you thinking, husband?
And then, it was done.
The vows spoken. The ring was exchanged.
The truce signed in blood and diamonds.
Applause erupted through the room.
Glasses clinked. A century old feud had just been buried beneath a veil of silk and ceremony.
But as Elena turned to face the crowd, a flicker of movement caught her eye.
What are you hiding, husband? She said to herself.
The words were spoken, the rings exchanged. Applause rang out as their families cheered the unholy union in the name of marriage. But as Elena turned to face the crowd, she caught something—a shadow on the balcony. A flicker of silver.
Her body tensed.
Gun.
A gunshot cracked through the air.
Chaos erupted.
The shot range out before she could scream.
Glass shatters. Scream filled the air.
And then- chaos.
Elena felt herself being yanked backward, her body colliding with something hard. Arms wrapped around her as she hit the floor, her breath knocked her lungs.
The scent of gunpowder burned her nose, mixing with the sharp tang of blood.
The gasped, twisting with Lucas grip.
Her father lay motionless on the floor.
The red stain on his chest sprayed like ink on silk, his eyes frozen open in shock.
"No"- the word tore from her throat, raw and desperate, but Luca didn't let her move.
"Stay down". His voice was steel, his body shielding hers.
Another shot whizzed past them, embedding itself into the marble.
Elena's heart pounded, her vision swimming. It wasn't a botched wedding. This was an execution.
Luca's grip tightened on her wrist. "We need to move".
She struggled against him. "My father–"
" He is gone".
The finality in his tone made her stomach lurch.
She wanted to scream, to fight, but another burst of gunfire sent the guests scattering. Ricci and Deluca men were pulling out their weapons, returning fire.
Luca pulled her to her feet. "Run now"
Before she could argue he dragged her through the chaos, weaving between falling bodies and overturned tables. More men were storming in through the main door.
Assassin's.
Elena recognised the insignia on Their gloves– a skull and a dagger.
Not part of the Mafia. Mercenaries.
Her blood turned to ice.
Luca drew a pistol from his jacket and fired three precise shots. Three bodies dropped.
He didn't hesitate, didn't flinch.
Elena had sem men killed before, but never like this, Never with such calm efficiency.
Who the hell did I just marry?
They reached the side exit, bursting into the cold night air. A black cat idled at the curb, its engine running.
A man in the driver's seat turned towards Luca. "Boss, we have to go".
Elena froze. Boss?
Luca shoved her inside before she could protest, sliding in beside her, the doors locked and the car roared forward speeding away from the massacre.
Her pulse thundered.
She turned to him, eyes burning. "Who the hell were they?".
Luca exhaled, pressing a cloth on his forehand. "Not your father's men, not mine"
The words felt like ice in her veins.
"What are you saying?" She whispered.
Luca leaned closer, his voice low, steady.
"I am saying, Elena that those men were aiming for me"
A chill swept through her.
Her father's death has been a mistake.
The real target had been her husband, and now, whether she wanted to or not , she was now caught in the middle of a war she didn't understand.