𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐧.
ꙬꙬꙬꙬ
All that Yara Morello was told all her life was that she was the shame of the family. She was a mistake that was never supposed to happen, a disgrace to be shunned and cast...
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If I had a shit list, my annoyingly gorgeous fiancé would appear at the top in capital letters. Not only did he threaten to cut off my hands within the first few minutes of meeting him, but he also subjected me to the agony of mingling with snobbishly rich and obnoxious people while ignoring my existence the entire time.
Papa had forbidden me to talk freely with the people here, it's not like I wanted to anyways. All I was supposed to do was smile and only speak when spoken to. I was meant to remain as an insignificant accessory to Emilio.
The fear that first consumed me at being at the mercy of Emilio disappeared the moment he threatened me. Instead, I was angry, and even angrier because I couldn't do shit about it.
I was sick of everything here.
I was sick of the stupid dress I was wearing, sick of the paparazzi lurking around the room with their blindingly bright camera flashes, and entitled nepo overgrown babies everywhere in this hall. I stuck out as always, like a sore thumb.
I sneaked a peek at my fiancé struggling to keep up with his strides. He carried himself with a frightening confidence and a killer ego. I could literally feel the power radiating off him. It was like he was fed arrogance and pride in his baby formula.
The people we encountered were either terrified of him or fawning over him. The mafia's reputation was no joke; they could either make you or destroy you so thoroughly that you'd wish for hell instead. Everyone knew that, and even though the mafia was involved in pretty much everything illegal, the government loved what they could benefit from them more than the wellbeing of the ordinary people.
He stops in front of a man and tips his head to acknowledge him, while I try not to pant because I am so out of breath. The man in front of us has the same dead look that Emilio has, except he somehow appears human when looks at the woman beside him. Unlike Emilio, he doesn't radiate a murderous aura.
Emilio starts speaking to the man in Italian, and I tune them out, looking at the woman instead. I recognize her; I've seen her on TV before and Allegra and her minions never shut up about her. Estelle Kennington, also known as the nation's "it girl" and trendsetter. In person, she was stunningly gorgeous. the pictures and clips of her online did no justice to her beauty.
Her gaze meets mine with a hint of curiosity before she graces me with a warm, friendly smile. I'm momentarily taken aback not just by her blindingly pearly white teeth, but by the fact that she acknowledges my existence, unlike the others who barely spare me a glance, their attention fixed solely on Emilio.
I barely had a chance to return her acknowledgment before Emilio began walking away briskly, leaving me struggling to keep up once again. Being with this man was like living in a personal hell, and I don't even know what my sin is. I give her one last look, and I don't miss the pity in her eyes as she watches me walk away.
I felt like a charity case.
We reach a table, and he takes a seat without even glancing at me. I bite my tongue, drag the closest chair out, and plop myself down. It was clear as day that he intended to ignore me for the rest of the night, so I decided to return the favor and not pay him any attention.
