MAFIA CONTRACT MARRIAGE

Chapter 19

Eleonora POV

I stand in front of the closet, my heart racing with anxiety. I know that Lorenzo has left something for me to wear. I open the door, and my eyes widen as I see a stunning black dress hanging in front of me. It's a designer gown, sleek and sophisticated, with intricate lace details and a low back. I can tell that it's expensive.

Next to the dress, I see a pair of high heels, black pumps with a delicate strap and a stiletto heel. They're beautiful, but I know that they'll hurt my feet. I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I should try to find something else to wear. But then I remember his words, his cold and detached tone. I know that I have to do as he says, no matter how much I don't want to.

I take a deep breath and begin to get ready, my hands shaking as I unzip the dress and step into it. The fabric is smooth and silky, hugging my body in all the right places. I look in the mirror, and my eyes widen as I see how beautiful I look. The dress is stunning, and it fits me perfectly.

I slip on the heels, wincing as the straps dig into my skin. I know that I'll have to wear them for hours, and my feet will be screaming by the end of the night. But I don't have a choice.

I make my way downstairs, the dress hugging my body like a shroud. I feel like a prisoner, trapped in this beautiful gown, forced to play along with Lorenzo's games. I see him standing in the hall, his eyes cold and detached as he looks me up and down.

"You look acceptable," he says, his voice devoid of emotion. "Let's go."

I raise an eyebrow and reply, "And you don't look bad yourself." My voice is laced with sarcasm, a subtle jab at his cold demeanor.

His eyes widen in surprise, his face frozen in a moment of shock. He doesn't say a word, but his expression speaks volumes. He's not used to me speaking back, to me not being the submissive wife he expects me to be.

He walks out of the house, his strides long and purposeful. I follow behind him, my heart racing with anticipation. He reaches the car and opens the door, but instead of waiting for me, he gets in and locks the door behind him. I'm left standing outside, forced to open my own door and slide into the passenger seat.

As soon as I'm in, Lorenzo puts the car in gear and steps on the gas, accelerating away from the house without warning. I'm thrown back in my seat, my stomach lurching with the sudden motion.

"Lorenzo , what the hell?" I exclaim, my voice sharp with anger.

His eyes darken, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "You think you can talk to me like that?" he growls, his voice low and menacing.

"I can talk to you any way I want," I snap, my defiance burning bright.

His eyes flash with anger, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel. The car speeds up, the engine roaring as we hurtle down the road.

*************

Lorenzo's anger seems to dissipate as he focuses on the road ahead. His grip on the steering wheel relaxes, and his breathing slows. We drive in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the rush of wind past the windows.

Finally, he speaks up, his voice calm and measured. "Eleonora, I've been thinking... we need to talk about our future."

I turn to him warily, unsure where this is going. "What about our future?"