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“I was on the phone with Marco when I heard Macy barking. We have a medic available at all times in case of emergencies. I did what needed to be done.”

Not sure why I’m surprised this situation hasn’t fazed him, I pack up our things, trying to hide my anxiety.

“How brilliant is their Macy dog. If she hadn’t alerted everyone, goodness knows what would have happened.” I shudder at the thought. “I’d love a dog like Macy. I’ve always wanted a dog.”

“A Guerra will have what they desire. I will instruct Marco to bring the dog back with him. She shall be yours.”

“What?! No, you can’t do that!”

“Believe me, Katherine, I can do whatever I want. A dog is an insignificant price to pay for saving her son's life. I doubt she will argue.”

“Don’t you dare, Leo! She is as much her baby as Alfie is. Please don’t!” I cry until I see him smirking.

“Ahh, dear Katherine. You are so easy to wind up.”

“You’re a monster!”

“You’re right; I am a monster. Let’s go.”

At home during dinner, we really start to connect.

Leo tells me about his brother, Alex. Alex was the elder of the two brothers.

He was a born leader, according to Leo. A strong, loyal man who lived and breathed the Guerra family and all it represented.

Alex had met and fallen in love with the Guerras' archenemy’s daughter.

Unaware of who their families were at first, the couple had a relationship, and they fell deeply in love.

When they realised who each other was, it was too late.

They were one. Leo’s father was not happy at first, but he declared a truce for his son.

The Guerra and the Martelé families would rule beside each other but never together.

When Leo was in England looking for me, Martelé murdered his brother. Alex’s girlfriend or recent fiancée killed herself later that day, for whatever reason. Leo speaks with such hatred for her. He doesn’t tell me specifics, but he obviously blames her for his death.

The layers are slowly peeling away. He’s letting me in. I actually forget that this is a man basically holding me hostage, forcing me into an arranged marriage, threatening me with legal action, and worse. He brings me back to reality when he tells me my plans for tomorrow.

“You’re having lunch with my mother tomorrow. Then you will get measured for your wedding dress. You will be wearing a dress I select. Past experiences have taught me you can’t be trusted where clothing is concerned. I will not have my wife exposing herself.”

My knife and fork drop from my hands, making loud clanging sounds as they hit my plate. Not knowing what to say, I stare at him, my mouth presumably half open at his audacity.

“It’s bad enough you have had sexual relations with three other men.”

What the actual hell? How does he know I have slept with three other men?

“Don’t look surprised, Katherine. You know I am a man of many means. Of course I would want to know what my future wife has been up to.”

“This is unbelievable.” I stand up to leave, but Leo grabs my wrist.

“Where are you going? We haven’t finished our dinner.”

Tears fill my eyes. I’m so angry and frustrated. I look him in the eye.

“Why are you doing this, Leo?”

He drops my arm, so I return to our room. As I climb into bed, my phone pings with a message.

Damien: We’ve found a loophole. We just need to get you back to the UK. Working on it. Hang tight. Damien.

Thank goodness. Hopefully, it won’t be much longer now, then. I’ll keep my head down and my mouth shut. Cuddling my teddy, I fall asleep feeling more optimistic that this nightmare will be over soon.

I don’t speak to Leo at breakfast. He didn’t come to our room last night, or I didn’t notice if he did, anyway. I slept well, and I’m feeling better after the news from Damien. Leo’s mother turns up looking very glamorous in a white trouser suit.

“Katherine! I’m so looking forward to today.” She brings me into a hug. I reluctantly return the gesture. “We are going to have so much fun!”

“Van will be with you today, Katherine, as Marco and I have some business to attend to. There will also be someone from my mother's team. Enjoy, ladies. Treat yourselves; anything you like is yours.” Leo kisses his mum’s cheek.

“Ha!” Anything I like, when he’s already told me I have no say in my dress. They both look at me quizzically. I don’t say another word, just smile. It doesn’t matter anyway; this wedding is not happening.

On the ride into town, Leo’s mum makes small talk. A nod and a smile is all she gets in return. I now resent the beautiful Italian views which once filled me with excitement and happiness. I’ve never wanted to see the grey English weather more than I do now.

The bridal shop is very elegant. It’s a place you would dream of getting your wedding dress from.

Only for me, this is a nightmare. My measurements are taken, and then the shop assistants rush around, showing us different gowns while we sit and drink champagne.

Well, Leo’s mother does; she is in her element.

“Which would you like to try on, Katherine?”

“None of them.” I reply sadly.

“You haven’t seen anything you like?”

“Oh, I’ve seen many I like, but Leo has made it quite clear he will be choosing my dress, so there’s no point.”

The shop assistant looks at me sympathetically.

“Give us some time to discuss, please.” Mrs. Guerra ushers them away, then asks, “What is the matter, Katherine?”

“Are you seriously asking me that question?”

Mrs. Guerra sits up a little straighter, obviously annoyed with my tone.

Feeling a little guilty for taking it out on her, but more so, scared of insulting such a powerful woman, I decide to apologise. “I’m sorry. I’m just finding this all very overwhelming.”

She stands up and grabs my bag. “Let’s go for lunch.”

The restaurant Mrs. Guerra takes us to is only a couple of doors down from the dress shop. All the staff fuss around us the minute we walk through the door. A waiter pours Mrs. Guerra some wine and then moves to do the same for me.

“Oh, not for me, thank you.” I put my hand over my glass.

Mrs. Guerra bats it away. “Yes, you will. You need to relax.”

Okay, then. The waiter fills my glass.

A range of Italian dishes are brought to our table. We both eat in silence until Mrs. Guerra begins to talk.

“Leo was always a mummy’s boy. So kind, thoughtful, and caring.

As a child, he loved to draw and paint. We spent our days together, crafting and using our imagination.

Leo was always the complete opposite of his brother Alex.

Alex was always playing some sort of sport.

He was forever coming home covered in cuts and bruises after scrapping with his friends.

Alex had an air about him that made people stop and pay attention.

He bloomed at a young age. By thirteen, he had started shaving and his voice was so deep, you would think he was a fully grown adult.

Other boys looked up to him, Leo especially.

” Mrs. Guerra is emotional when she speaks.

After taking a large sip of her wine she continues.

“The day Alex died, so did Leo. He knew he needed to step up. Since that day, he has been put through the most gruelling training to turn him into the man he is today. It breaks my heart that I have lost both of my boys. It pains me that my boy can no longer be his true self. My husband is dying. He is very weak. The Guerra family needs a strong leader, which is now Leo. He needs a strong, loyal wife by his side. That is you. I will teach you everything you need to know about being a Guerra woman.”

“But Leo doesn’t love me. I don’t love him. Why me? Why do I have to be the Guerra woman?”

“Love is a weakness. He doesn’t need love. He needs a tough, strong-willed woman. Someone for the people to look up to and respect.”

“But what if I don’t want to?”

Mrs. Guerra looks at me and smiles. “Oh, Katherine—you do want to. I see the way you look at my son. You just don’t know it yet.”

She is so wrong. Cutting up a piece of chicken on my plate to avoid eye contact and the need to reply, I notice the meat is undercooked in the middle, so I push it to one side of my plate.

Mrs. Guerra notices my action and takes a closer look at the chicken.

“Lesson number one. Guerras are to be respected. We are the leaders, and people must be shown that. Send the chicken back.”

At a click of her fingers, a waiter appears at our table.

“I’m sorry, but the chicken isn’t quite cooked,” I say politely.

Mrs. Guerra rolls her eyes while I continue.

“Could we get a new one or cook this—” I’m cut off midsentence.

“Are you trying to poison us?” Mrs. Guerra snaps, interrupting me.

The waiter apologises profoundly, I can see fear in his eyes; I feel extremely guilty. When he leaves, Mrs. Guerra continues.

“We do not apologise for something we have not done, Katherine. We don’t even apologise for something we have done, for that matter.”

“I’m not cut out for this.” I shake my head.

“It will take some time to get used to it, but you will. I know this is not the most traditional way of getting married, but you are only delaying the inevitable.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, surprised Mrs. Guerra thinks me marrying her son is a good idea.

“You’ve always wanted Leo. You loved him from the moment you met him. You have even learnt Italian for him.”

“How do you know I still love him, and what makes you think I’ve learnt Italian?”

“Guerras are very good at reading people. We have to be. And when that waiter apologised in Italian, you understood every word.”

Not sure what to say, I let her continue.

“You will have a life of good fortune with the man you always wanted. The hows and the whys of all this are irrelevant, Katherine.”

Truth be told, I’ve dreamed of a life with Leo, but this seems to be more like a nightmare. People say you should be careful what you wish for. I should have been more specific.

We finish our food and wine while making small talk. She was right—I did need to relax, and the wine has helped.

“Now let’s get back to the dress shop and choose your wedding dress. I will have a word with Leo. He will not be choosing your dress; that is the bride's job.”

Trying on wedding dresses is actually quite fun. Even though I don’t plan on wearing the dress, I pick out a beautiful backless fitted gown.

After spending thousands of euros on Leo’s card, we return to the house.

Mrs. Guerra—or rather, Maria, as she has now insisted I call her—and I burst through the doors, a little tipsy and laughing hysterically.

Not concentrating, I trip over the rug in the hall, and just as my knees are about smash into the marble floor, strong hands catch me and pull me against a hard, warm body. Leo.