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After the events of last night, I had been locked in my room throughout the entire morning. I woke up with my pillowcase stained with mascara, and looking like a walking corpse. From there, I was forced to get ready for the ever so important dinner.
The air was unusually cold for an evening in late May. My body suddenly felt exposed as I stepped out of my father's black Bentley. I was wearing a simple black dress, a pair of black Louboutins, and an oversized leather jacket. The fabric against my skin felt icy, and I was abruptly aware of what I would have to face as soon as I walked into the restaurant before me.
My future husband.
The three words made me nauseous to even think about.
My father trailed behind as I briskly moved through the cold air. My footsteps stopped when his hand gripped my wrist. "Behave yourself, Violet. You have no idea how important this is." He reminded me. I rolled my eyes in response while biting the side of my cheek. As if I needed to be reminded of what he would do if I blew this. "And for God's sake, take off that jacket." I immediately pulled my wrist from out of his grip without another word.
After opening the rather heavy and extravagant door, I stepped in, instantly relieved as the warm air surrounded me. The smell of tomato sauce and spices filled the room, and the sound of clinking glasses and lively conversation created a continually atmosphere. After not having the slightest clue of what I was doing as I stood in front of a 'Please Wait To Seated' sign, I turned around to look at my dad.
"This way." He spoke impatiently with an unimpressed expression played across his face. Was it the jacket? Because I wasn't taking it off.
Swiftly, he guided us through the Italian restaurant. I was amazed, to say the slightest. Painted artwork and delicate architecture filled the area from head to toe. Most seats were rounded with rustic orange sofas around them. There was limited greenery, but the dim lighting and the soft music tied everything together.
Our footsteps made their way towards a table that was hidden away at the back left corner of the room. There sat two men; one wearing a black tailored suit, the other in a white button up. Their hair was black, and they both had somewhat of the same muscular build, just one was obviously younger than the other.
My heart began to pound in my chest as we neared. It wasn't too late to run away, was it? The younger man's features became more noticeable, thought I couldn't make out his face. His elbow was propped up against the table, the palm of his hand resting against his forehead as he waited.
YOU ARE READING
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒
Romance𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐀 - Intricate and witty, her life has twisted upside down after her father's past scarred his family. At the young age of twenty, Violet is informed that eight years ago, she was promised to marry a Mafia Don's son by h...