Ruthless Monarch

She tilts her head, and her eyes soften. “I don’t think you have a choice. But despite the hard exterior, he’ll be good to you. There are worse men to marry.”

“Like Salvatore,” I mumble back.

“Yes, like Salvatore.”

“Well, since I have no choice, we might as well get this over with.” I move to stand, but before I do, I stop. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you think Matteo would let me invite someone?”

“I don’t know.” She nibbles on her lower lip, unsure. “Lord knows how his mind works. I can ask, though.”

For the first time since this whole debacle started, I smile.

“Thanks.”

Giana is a miracle worker. Not only did she find me a dress but she also found me shoes. Apparently, the only thing she couldn’t do was convince Matteo to let me invite Julia. I know my family won’t be there, but I don’t care about that. All I care about is having my friend by my side.

Tears fill my eyes.

I knew it was a long shot, but still, I hoped. Dreamed. But it serves me right.

Giana promised me the location for tomorrow. But apparently, Matteo stomped on that too.

No matter how much I try to find out, I get nowhere.

Giana says he’s probably afraid I would tip off my family.

I wouldn’t.

I don’t want them to stop this wedding.

I know the ship has sailed already, and there is no going back now. So instead of trying to think about it, I tuck myself in the bedroom on the sixth floor and close my eyes, willing sleep to come.

Fortunately for me, it does.

Now, I’m up and dressed. The gown Giana had picked out on my body. My hair and makeup also done. Giana is apparently a woman of many talents.

I look at myself in the mirror and am taken aback by what I see.

My hair is blown out in soft waves, and my makeup is nothing, merely a light dusting. The best version of my true self she had said as she placed the gloss on my lips earlier. I’m straight out of a fairy tale, ever the princess Matteo says I am. My eyes fill with tears. In this story, I’m not marrying the prince, and I’ll never have my happy ending. From here on out, I’ll be the property of a mob boss.

It feels like I’m slowly losing myself in a world I’m unfamiliar with. Like I’m walking into the unknown.

I’m scared.

Marrying Matteo is a calculated move, but what if I’m wrong?

What if this is the wrong decision?

What if, in my need to rid myself from my father’s grasp, I have damned myself to a worse fate?

My teeth biting into my lip has me shaking myself out of the void I’ve just entered. I have too much going on right now to think about this.

I head down the elevator because no way in hell am I walking down those stairs in these shoes, and before I know it, I’m being placed in a car to an unknown location.

Thirty minutes later, the car stops, and when I step out, I see Giana.

She’s smiling at me, but when I walk up to her, she pulls me into a hug. I am not expecting that, but it's exactly what I need with all the nerves running through me.

There is no one here for me today, so I welcome the friendship Giana gives me.

“Welcome to your new home.” My new home? This is where Matteo lives? It reminds me of an English manor. A large manicured lawn surrounded by trees keeps it cocooned in privacy, but the house itself makes my mouth drop. With large pillars and a limestone façade, it’s straight out of a fairy tale. “You ready?” she asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

I nod but cannot bring myself to say yes.

“How come I don’t believe you?” She laughs. Because I don’t even believe me. But I don’t say that. Instead, I just hug her back and pull back with a smile. “You will do great. Everything will be okay. Now, let’s go. It’s time.”

“I don’t know—” I start to admit. My vision clouds from the unshed tears.

“I wish I could say something else.” The look she gives me is insecure. I know she does. “I wish I could say you don’t have to do this, that we can leave . . .” She motions around us. Not only do I not know where I am but it also appears we are in a heavily guarded compound. “But you can’t. You need to be strong.” I nod at her words, and she does as well. “Let’s go get you married.”

She pulls me along with her until we are inside. I feel like I’m a little girl whose mom is forcing her to go somewhere she doesn’t want. I’m a rag doll in her grasp.