Sold to Moretti Mafia

Elena

Staring at my reflection, a feeling of surrealness washes over me. I thought Julian was drunk when he came into the bedroom last night and said we were getting married, but as it turns out, he wasn’t drunk, nor lying. Here I stand, in a wedding dress, and I’m about to get married to a man who bought me for ten million dollars. A man, I foolishly thought I could love. He knows nothing of love. This is all revenge, that’s all it is. He doesn’t want me the way I want him. It’s a façade, a mirage. I keep telling myself maybe he’ll forget about finding my father, but I know better. He won’t stop till he’s dead.

“Are you ready?” Julian calls through the closed bathroom door, and my thoughts slip away like grains of sand through an hourglass.

“Yes,” I yell back at him. Carefully, I step toward the door and open it just enough to peek through the crack. “Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride in her dress?”

“I didn’t see you in your dress on our first wedding day, and you saw how well that worked out.” He purses his lips.

I guess he’s right. What could possibly happen that hasn’t already?

Pulling the door open all the way, Julian’s entire body comes into view. He’s standing a few feet away from me in a fitted tux. He looks sharp, roguish, and dangerous. My mouth goes dry, and I swallow my tongue, afraid that it might slip out like a dog’s when it pants. His sea-blue eyes take me in from head to toe, drinking the image before him up.

“You look… breathtaking.” He licks his lips, and I’m taken aback by how genuine his compliment is. There’s a kind of adoration in his tone that I’ve never heard before. It’s especially surprising after all the things he told me last night and the abrupt way he left and returned to tell me we were getting married.

Sometimes, I think Julian has a split personality. Or maybe he is just a monster inside, and this caring version of him is a façade. Either way, I’m about to marry him. Marry him and all of his sides, the dark one that’s front and center and the kind one that no one ever gets a glimpse of.

“Come. Father Petro is waiting for us,” he offers me his arm. I close the distance between us and loop my arm into his and shiver when my hand brushes against his.

My stomach churns like I’m on a rollercoaster. I’m about to get married.

Julian leads me down the stairs, holding me extra tight as we walk down the long staircase. When we reach the bottom step, I almost sigh. Maria comes around the corner, and my thoughts shift.

“Oh, Elena. You look stunning,” she beams, looking me up and down. “Here, I made you this.” She hands me a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

“Thank you, Marie.” I smile happily, grateful that she is here. At least I have one friend present at my wedding. One person, I would have invited regardless of when it took place.

Julian dismisses Marie with a wave of his hand, and I have to grind my teeth together to stop myself from saying something to him. I don’t understand his distaste for her. Yes, she is his employee, but she is a human as well. Hopefully, with our union of marriage, I will get a say in how things are run around the mansion.

We continue our walk through the house, and it feels very much like we’re walking to the cemetery to lay someone to rest. Reaching the terrace, Julian opens the French doors and the cool morning air kisses my skin.

As soon as we step outside, I forget about everything. All my worries, fears, and anxiety over marrying Julian fade away. There is a white woven arch set up at the edge of the terrace, white roses are braided into it. The entire thing is picturesque and whimsical.Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

Behind it, the sun is sitting in the center of the bright blue sky, illuminating the magical scene. The weather couldn’t have been more perfect. Dragging my eyes away from the décor, I find the priest is already standing under the arch, a friendly smile gracing his lips as we walk up and stop in front of him.

I never expected my wedding to happen this way. I always thought my father would walk me down the aisle and give me away. Even though I never imagined it going this way, I have to admit, it’s beautiful.

While the priest performs the ceremony, Julian holds onto my free hand with an iron grip while I clutch onto the bouquet with the other.

Father Petro reads a few passages from the bible about cherishing and protecting each other. I wonder if our marriage will ever be that of others. Bursting with love and joy. I hope those things can find their way into our marriage.

After we each say our vows, which are generic ones, we repeat after Father Petro. We exchange wedding bands at the very end, and my fingers shake as I slide the silver wedding band onto Julian’s finger. I think I’m going to be sick. I can’t believe I’m married.

“I, hereby, pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Julian turns to face me, looking every bit as intimidating as he was the night he showed up in my father’s office. Turning, I do the same and swallow thickly as I lift my gaze and meet his. He’s watching me like I’m his prey, and I guess in a way I am.

Lowering his head, he leans in and presses his lips to mine, sealing our fates with a kiss. The kiss is gentle and kind, completely unlike anything I would expect, then again, Julian officially owns me now. I am Mrs. Moretti.

“Congratulations.” Father Petro smiles as we break the kiss. My lips are burning, and my entire body is trembling.

“Thank you,” Julian whispers and grabs my hand, clutching it tightly like he is worried that I’ll run away. He guides us down the steps and toward the pool, where I see a table is set up with a variety of fruits, pastries, and other breakfast items.

“Mrs. Moretti,” Julian smirks as he helps me into my chair.

“What happens next?” I ask, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Did he find my father already? Is he going to spring it on me at any second? Guilt gnaws away at my insides. I’m married, and my father wasn’t even here to witness it.

“Now we have breakfast and get ready for our honeymoon.”

“Honeymoon?” I try not to sound as shocked as I feel. “We’re going on a honeymoon?”

Julian smiles, showing off his sparkly white teeth. “Yes, we’re staying at a private beach house on a secluded beach, where we will spend the next thirty days together. I want to give you some freedom and let you enjoy yourself. I think it will be good for us and give us a chance to get to know each other a little more as well.”

It’s like I’ve woken up in another dimension. I can’t believe what I am hearing, and for a brief second, I simply stare at him in awe.

“You seem shocked, perhaps you would rather be locked in our bedroom?”

“No…” I blurt out and reach for the glass of orange juice while Julian grabs my plate and fills it with food. “I’m just surprised is all. After the way things ended last night, I didn’t expect something like this…”

“You’re my wife, and I want you to be happy. This trip will allow you the freedom you seek, without me worrying about someone hurting you, or you running away.”

And just like that, I realize the freedom he is giving me is a false sense of hope. He doesn’t trust me, not really. He’s giving me freedom but only as much as he is allowing, and it’s on his terms. My stomach sours, and the idea of eating makes me nauseous.

“I thought when we married, you would trust me more and give me more freedom?”

“I am and will.” He takes a bite of strawberry and hands my plate, which is loaded with food, back to me.

“Only on your terms, though, right?” I scoff angrily.

I was so foolish to think that getting married would make things better. Foolish to think that Julian Moretti, the dark wolf of the mafia underbelly, would fall for me. All he wants to do is control me. Nothing has changed.

“Everything is on my terms, wife, you should know this by now. When your father is taken care of, and I have nothing more to worry about, you can be free. Now eat, we have a long day ahead of us,” he orders me like I’m a child, and I’m tempted to object, but what good would that do me. Not eating isn’t going to hurt anyone but me.

Begrudgingly, I pluck a piece of fruit off the plate and shove it in my mouth. I chew the fruit viciously with maddening anger like it’s the person I want to hurt.

A moment later, Lucca comes sauntering up to the table, and Julian excuses himself, leaving me to sit at the table alone, and I hope this isn’t a vision of the future. I’ve already lost my mother, and my father is soon to follow. I’m not sure what I will do if I can’t get Julian to see past his vengeful ways.

Is there a future of love and happiness for us, or were we doomed from the very start?