Capture My Fiancé (A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance)

06

EMILIA

I'm small again.

I can't move. My legs are too short, too weak.
I look down at my hands, but they're tiny—childlike, clumsy.
My heart is pounding. I can feel it in my ears, loud and frantic.
Everything around me is too big.
The walls, the ceiling, the windows.
They loom over me, like shadows, closing in, pressing down.

I'm trapped.

I'm standing in a room I know well, but it feels wrong, distorted.
My childhood bedroom—pink walls, pristine, everything perfectly in its place.
Too perfect. Too neat. Like a dollhouse. Like I'm a doll.

I can hear them outside the door.
Footsteps. Voices. My mother. My father.
They're coming. They always come.

I want to run. I can't move.

I try to cry out, but no sound comes.
My throat tightens.
No one can hear me.

The door creaks open.

They step inside, their faces shadowed, but I know it's them.
My mother's sharp heels clicking against the floor.
My father's heavy steps, his hands clasped behind his back, his face unreadable.

"Emilia," my mother's voice cuts through the silence, cold, commanding. "Stand up straight."

I try to, but my legs won't obey.
They feel like lead.
The weight of everything is too much.

"You have to be perfect," she says, her eyes narrowing. "You know the rules."

Her hand reaches out and grabs my arm—too tight.
It burns.
It burns.
Her nails dig into my skin, and I wince, but I don't pull away.
I can't. I've learned not to.

"Don't embarrass us, Emilia," my father's voice booms, low and authoritative. "You are our daughter. You will do as we say."

I open my mouth to protest, to say anything, but nothing comes out.
My voice is gone. 
I can't breathe.

"Emilia!"

I was lost in a nightmare, trapped in a dark, suffocating place, my chest tightening with panic.

"Emilia, wake up!" Mamá's voice pierced through the darkness, sharp and urgent, pulling me out of the terrifying dream.

I shot up in bed, drenched in sweat, gasping for air. My heart pounded in my chest as my eyes darted around, trying to make sense of where I was.

"It's okay, calm down," Mamá said, her voice softer now but still firm. She stood by my bedside, her hand on my shoulder. "It was just a dream."

I groaned, my whole body feeling heavy, like I hadn't slept in days. The remnants of the nightmare still clung to me. I wanted to sink back into bed, but her voice wouldn't let me.

"Emilia, Valentino's downstairs. His parents came this morning." There was a hint of irritation in her tone, snapping me out of my daze.

My heart skipped a beat. I sat up straighter. "W-what? What are they doing here?" I stammered, panic bubbling up again.

Her brows furrowed in frustration. "What do you mean, what are they doing here? They're here to talk about your wedding!"

Oh, no. Not this again.

"Get up already! You're embarrassing us! Your father is waiting downstairs!" She had that familiar tone of impatience, the one that always made me feel like I was never quick enough.