Capture My Fiancé (A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance)

03

EMILIA

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to understand the image looking back at me.

The black dress I wore clung to my curves, a bold statement of defiance. It was a deliberate choice—dark, daring, and nothing like the soft colors Mamá usually picked for these kinds of events.

A sense of satisfaction washed over me. The dress felt like armor, a way to show I wasn't going to play by their rules. Mamá had wanted me in a conservative white or silver dress. Well, I wasn't having any of that.

My makeup was heavier than usual—dark eyeliner and deep red lipstick. It made me look more intimidating and perhaps a bit older than my years.

If I was going to this event, I wanted to give him every reason to reconsider the engagement. Maybe seeing me like this would make him rethink everything. Who knows?

I had picked out every detail of my outfit myself, even the six-inch Louboutin black heels. Everything was chosen to push him away, not to impress.

As I adjusted my dress one last time, I made my way down the stairs. I carried a purse in one hand and lifted the side of my dress with the other.

"Emilia! Dios mío! What on earth are you wearing?" Mamá gasped, her eyes wide with shock.

"Mamá, it's just a dress," I said, trying to stay calm.

"I picked out a great outfit for you! Sube las escaleras y cámbiate ahora!" she demanded, her voice sharp.

"No, Mamá. I won't. We're out of time!" I rolled my eyes, frustration rising. Mamá had always needed to control everything. Since she couldn't stand up to Papá, she took it out on me and everyone else in the house.

"Enough!" Papá's voice boomed, silencing us both. "Stop with the act, Emilia Marcella. I see right through you and know exactly what you're up to."

He seemed to see right through me. Papá was used to me obeying his rules, but this time was different, and he could sense it. I didn't want to argue, so I quickly looked away.

Ignoring them both, I headed straight to the car. The driver was already waiting by the luxury van. I slid into the back seat, sinking into the soft leather as the door closed behind me.

As the car drove off, I watched the city lights streak past the window. The engine's hum was calming, but my mind was racing. I knew what awaited me at the venue: an engagement party where Valentino and I would be the center of attention.

When we arrived at the venue, my mind was a whirlwind. My palms were sweaty, and I could feel everyone's eyes on me. The staff led us from the lobby to the entrance of the ballroom where the event was being held.

"Emilia, I expect you to be on your best behavior," Mamá said, her voice tight but trying to sound cheerful. She reached out to tuck a stray strand of my hair behind my ear, her touch gentle yet firm. "Remember, this is an important event. Make a good impression."

I nodded, though my mind was elsewhere. I couldn't argue with her, especially not in front of everyone.

The grandeur of the venue felt like a gilded cage, the weight of expectations pressing down on me. I was overwhelmed by the opulence surrounding us.

Papá stood next to Mamá, appearing calm and content, though I knew it was just a façade. He kept checking his watch, his impatience barely hidden. The man who prided himself on efficiency wasn't one for waiting, and I could read his every movement as if he had spoken his thoughts aloud.

When the doors to the ballroom finally opened, we were led inside. The room sparkled with crystal chandeliers and elegant floral arrangements, creating a setting that was as luxurious as it was overwhelming.