Forced To Marry The Mafia

Design

The morning sun painted the room in warm colours as I jolted awake, my eyes widening in horror as I glanced at the clock next to me, 11:30 AM. Today was the day of my appointment at the designer's studio, the crucial fitting for the wedding dress that would bind me to this marriage. Panic set in, and I jumped out of bed, the urgency of the situation pulling me into action.

"Damn it," I muttered under my breath, scrambling out of bed and making my way into the bathroom to brush my teeth. As I quickly brushed my teeth realization hit me, I had to wake Jennie up. The house was silent as I rushed down the hallway, my bare feet barely making a sound on the polished floor. I burst into Jennie's room, her peaceful slumber undisturbed by the chaos outside.

"Jennie, wake up!" I shook her gently, my voice urgent.

She groggily opened her eyes, confusion etched on her face. "Elara, what's happening?"

"We're running late for the designer's appointment! Get ready, we need to leave right now!" I exclaimed, my heart racing.

Jennie blinked away from the sleep and nodded. 

In no time, we were both scrambling to get dressed, the minutes ticking away like the sands in an hourglass. The car engine roared as I revved it up, and we sped through the streets towards the designer's studio.

The bustling city outside the window blurred into a colourful mosaic as we navigated through traffic, skillfully dodging cars and honking horns. The air inside the car was charged with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. 

We arrived at the designer's studio, a haven of elegance in the midst of all the chaos. The designer, an elegant woman with an eye for detail, greeted us with a warm smile despite our delay. "Better late than never. Let's make sure you still have plenty of time to create the perfect gown," she said, leading us towards the fitting room.

As I stepped into the ethereal world of lace and silk, the weight of the impending arranged marriage momentarily lifted. The designer's skilled hands worked like magic, crafting a gown that felt like a manifestation of dreams and expectations. As the fitting commenced, Jennie and I collaborated with the designer to bring the dress to life, it made my inner child scream with excitement, it had been my dream to design my own wedding dress, but I never thought I would get the chance to and never would I have thought that it wouldn't be on my own terms.

I delicately handled the elegant vintage purely silk ballroom white wedding gown. As I carefully slipped into the gown, the silk cascaded around me, wrapping me in a luxurious embrace. The smooth fabric felt cool against my skin, and I savoured the sensation as it draped over my shoulders, leaving them bare in a modern and classic way. The gown's clean lines and lack of intricate details allowed the natural sheen of the silk to shine through, casting a soft glow that illuminated the fitting room.

I took a deep breath as I wrapped the slender silk sash at my waist, feeling the gown define my figure with subtle grace. The absence of embellishments highlighted the simplicity of the dress, and I was in awe at how the gown's minimalist look exuded a timeless appeal.

And as I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn't recognise myself. It felt like I was a whole different person, I looked delicate, something I would have never imagined myself looking like. Jennie's eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she hugged me tightly.

"You look breathtaking, Elara," she whispered.

"Thank you, my love." I held my tears back hugging her as I looked at myself in the mirror.

"I can't believe you're getting married." Jennie smiled at me as she wiped her tears.

"I guess we've finally grown like we always said we would." I laughed. The designer sensing that this was an intimate moment left the room for us.