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MARIA

I stare at myself in the mirror. This is the dress of my dreams. I never gave much thought to my wedding day, and to be quite honest, I don’t care much for it now. But after speaking with Daniele, I feel hopeful that we could build a good life together.

But I still haven’t seen the groom in over twenty-four hours. The last time I spoke to him, he stormed out of the ballroom with his father in tow. I didn’t see him all of yesterday, and now I stand by the mirror, dressed in my gown, ready to marry this man.

“Oh, you look stunning, cara.” My mother comes into view in the corner of the mirror.

She’s dressed in a lavender gown that compliments her skin perfectly.

Her brown hair is swept up into an elegant updo, and her face is dusted with the softest makeup to accentuate her features.

“I’ve seen the dress already, but seeing you now, all dressed up… a true princess.”

I give her a small smile in the mirror, letting go of a shaky breath as I look over my body.

A beautiful floor-length gown with a tight sweetheart bodice holds my breasts perfectly.

The skirt cascades down to the floor with a slight side slit that allows me the freedom to move.

My hair flows down my back in loose curls, and I wear a tiara—a family heirloom my mother dusted off for this day.

I hear the door to the bridal room creak open, and in walks my father, dressed in his tuxedo. I expect him to at least look somewhat pleased that this deal is finally going through, but instead, I see only the tension locked into his features.

I turn around, my heart already slipping to the floor. “Papá, stai bene?” Dad, are you okay?

His eyes find mine, and from that stare alone, I know something is wrong. A cold weight sinks in my stomach, rooting me to the spot. My mother moves to stand beside him, her face drawn with concern.

“Marcello?” She places a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

My father runs a hand through his graying hair. His shoulders are tight, his jaw clenched.

“Daniele is gone.”

I blink. “What do you mean he’s gone? Gone where?”

“Matteo tells me he left in the night. Headed back to the States,” he explains, and I catch the slight bitterness in his tone. “You won’t be marrying Daniele…”

There’s a flicker of disappointment, but it’s followed—almost instantly—by a rush of relief. I’m free. I had come to accept that marrying Daniele wouldn’t be so bad. But now that he’s gone—likely running from the very thing I feared—it feels like a weight has finally lifted from my chest.

“So… that’s it? No wedding?” I ask, hope fluttering like a dying bird in my chest. I try to keep my voice steady, but it trembles despite me. As much as I hated the idea of marrying Daniele, my father had been counting on it. I had been preparing for it.

“No,” my father says, voice tight. “There will be a wedding.”

I blink. “I… I’m sorry—what?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m pretty sure a bride needs a groom to have a wedding,” I say, my heart picking up speed.

His eyes find mine. Cold. Unblinking. “You have a groom.”

Something in my body freezes. A sudden, unnatural stillness, like the air before an earthquake.

He breathes out the words like they don’t carry the weight of a thousand knives.

“Matteo.”

My entire world splits in two.

Silence. Deafening. My breath catches, and I swear the room tilts.

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head as if that might erase what I just heard. “No, Papá, you’re not?—”

“I am,” he says. “It’s done.”

“Matteo Davacalli. No.” I take a step back, like the space between us will undo what I’ve heard. “No, this isn’t happening. You can’t do this. This wasn’t the plan. I was supposed to marry his son, the boy I once knew, not… not the devil wrapped in silk and power!”

My knees almost give out. My hands shoot out to the vanity for support, my knuckles going white. My chest tightens, and I forget how to breathe.

He doesn’t flinch. “The deal stands. The name stands. The groom changes.”

I stare at him—this man who raised me, protected me, once swore he’d never hand me over to monsters. And now here he is, offering me up to the biggest one of them all.

The silence stretches. Suffocating.

And then, softly— “You’re feeding me to the Warlord.”

“Marcello, what are you talking about?” my mother asks—voicing exactly what I’m thinking. “She’s marrying Matteo now? As in… the father of Daniele?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” My father sighs heavily, placing a hand on his hip. “The wedding will still take place. You will still get married, and this deal will still go through.”

I can’t believe this.

Only a week ago, we buried my brother in a cemetery just twenty minutes from this very cathedral. That same day, I was betrothed to my childhood friend. And now, a week later, I’m set to marry his father.

I shake my head. “No. Papá, I won’t marry him. I’ll find Daniele—I’ll talk to him. Just two days ago, we were steady, aligned… we were ready to face this together. He can’t just be gone…”

There’s no way he would abandon me. He gave me his word. He promised me.

“There is no other choice, Maria.”

“He’s a widower. His wife passed away not long ago. How do you expect me to be the bride of a man who already had a wife?”

My father pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to maintain his composure. I know he hates when I push back—but I refuse to let him dictate this.

“You won’t be the first woman to marry a widower, and you definitely won’t be the last.”

I throw my bouquet onto the armchair and step toward him, rage and desperation mixing in my blood.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand as I close the space between us—the man never meant to be challenged.

But right now, I don’t give two shits. This is my life he’s playing with, and I refuse to marry the Warlord.

“You can’t do this to me. I don’t agree to this.” I seethe, my anger rising higher than it’s ever dared with him. “If fucking Daniele isn’t here, then there is no wedding.”

“Watch your tongue, Maria.” The fury in his eyes makes me falter, but the fire inside me pushes through. “I am still your father, and you remain under my care.”

“I am twenty-four, Papá. I’m an adult. I can walk out of here right now, and you can’t stop me.”

I see the muscle in his jaw twitch.

“Not with my name, you don’t. If you walk out of those doors, you’ll be stripped of it all—my fortune, my mercy, my name.” My father storms over and grabs my wrist. “If you leave this cathedral, you will never again be allowed near this family.”

My lips part. A gasp slips free.

“Marcello,” my mother says, her voice sharp and low. “She’s our daughter—my daughter. You won’t speak to her like that. She is the last of our children. Your heir. You’ll disown her over my dead body.”

My father’s eyes dart to hers, and I see the regret hit him immediately. He does love me—I know he does. But he’s running on grief and desperation. We all are.

He blinks, then turns his gaze back to me. Guilt and remorse flicker in his eyes.

“You will marry this man, or our family will pay a price we cannot afford.” His grip on my wrist tightens. “Do you want your brother’s blood to be for nothing?”

“Marcello,” my mother gasps again.

“You know it’s true, Marta,” my father snaps, turning to where my mother stands. “Do you think I want to give her away? To force her into a life she didn’t choose? I don’t have a choice.Without Matteo, we will drown in the pool of blood Antonio left behind.”

My heart clenches at the mention of my brother. I don’t want to accept that he’s gone, but every time we speak of his death, I’m plunged back into the nightmare I’m trying so desperately to escape.

The room falls silent. The only sound is the gentle strumming of a violin as guests begin filtering into the cathedral. I can hear the faint, distant rhythm of my heart breaking with every beat.

“I’m sorry, my daughter,” my mother says, her voice breaking the heavy silence.

Tears brim in my eyes, threatening to spill, but I hold them back. I push down the despair clawing at my chest and dig deep for the strength I need.

“Maria, listen to me. This isn’t just about you—it never was.

It’s about our family’s survival. Since your brother’s death, we’ve been exposed.

Vulnerable. They hover at the edges, drawn to the scent of weakness.

If we’re humiliated now, in front of all these families, we lose everything.

Respect. Power. Support. No one will stand with us. ”

I swallow hard. “So, this marriage… it’s just politics to you?”

“It always has been.” His voice didn’t waver. “Matteo needs this alliance as much as we do. He wants control in Italy, and we’re the perfect bridge. That’s why he’ll never walk away from this union—because it strengthens both our names. This marriage is our insurance.”

My hands curl into fists at my sides. “This isn’t fair…”

“No. It isn’t.” His tone didn’t soften. “But fairness has no place in our world. Think about your mother. Think about what happens if we fall from power. She becomes the easiest target. They’ll go after her first. Do you really want that?”

The knot in my throat tightens. “I… I don’t want that…”

“Then you need to understand something, and you need to understand it now.” He stepped closer. “If you walk away from this, you’re not just walking away from a marriage. You’re turning your back on your family. On everything we’ve built. On the people who love you.”

He paused, eyes locked on mine. “Is that a risk you’re willing to take?”

“I will marry him,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel.

I hold my father’s stare, refusing to let my eyes waver, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. But inside, something splinters—quietly, irrevocably.

“I’ll wear the dress. Smile for the cameras. Play the part of the dutiful bride,” I continue, each word tasting like ash. “But don’t mistake my silence for submission.”