Emilia: Finding My Forever

2|A Lifetime of Misery

Emilia's POV

"I can't even pick out my dress," I complained to Bella as she brushed my hair. "In their mafia, the groom usually does it."

"I'm sorry, Em," She frowned as she looked at me in the mirror. "What did Enzo say?"

I rolled my hands into fists as the thought of my father angered me.

"He was completely fine with it. He said he had done the same thing with my mom. It's completely unfair."

"Look on the bright," she smiled. "At least you'll be in your first relationship."

I stayed quiet as the thought of that scared me.

All my life I have been mostly isolated from others.

I was homeschooled my whole life and the closest I have ever gotten to having a relationship was when I had my first kiss with one of the guards.

Of course when my father found out, he 'fired' him and I never saw him again.

"You're all ready now," Bella said as she placed the brush on the table next to us.

I watched myself in the mirror. I wore a white dress shirt with jeans.

I didn't want to dress too fancy to make it look like I tried but I also didn't want to look too casual.

This will be the first time I will be meeting him.

"What do you think he will look like?" Bella asked as she added a bit of blush to my face.

"He's from the Sicilian Mafia so probably old, bald, ugly and..." I immediately trailed off when I realized I had nothing good to say about him.

"What's wrong?" Bella asked.

I shook my head. "I can't do this."

She sighed as she hugged me. "It's going to be okay."

I pulled away from our hug. "How do you know? Everyone keeps saying that it's going to be okay when they don't know shit."

"Em-"

"He's here," mom said as she walked in. She smiled when she saw me. "You look so pretty."

I sighed as I started walking out of the room. "Let's get this over with."

I started making my way down the stairs before pausing midway.

There he stood in the middle of the living room dressed in a tailored, raven-black suit that complemented his broad shoulders.

Beneath his suit was his pristine white dress shirt which failed miserably in hiding his abs.

His hand, which had on his polished, stainless-steel wristwatch, held his phone while his other gently rested in the pocket of his pants.