19. Lelia
Chapter 19
Lelia
I wore white for the fitting. Ivory lace stitched by a woman with trembling hands and a mouth that murmured bellissima under her breath while she pinned the bodice tighter. She definitely knows who the groom is.
She doesn’t speak.
She just does her job, like everyone else in this house.
Like me.
The seamstress folds and tucks the fabric as my reflection stares back from the mirror, glassy-eyed and still. I look like someone else.
Regal.
Cold.
A woman built for duty.
For alliance. For legacy.
But underneath?
My heart is chaos.
The door creaks open. One of Igancio’s guards leans inside, perfectly composed in a black suit and white dress shirt that fits him perfectly. It’s as if all the men in this house have been dressed by one monster who wants to keep control.
“You’re wanted downstairs,” he says. “Your fiancé’s requested your presence.”
I nod once.
He doesn’t notice my hands trembling.
When I descend the stairs, he’s already talking to his soldiers. I have expected Cassio to be here, but he’s not, thankfully.
Ignacio Mosca—the Boss of the Mosca clan. Educated abroad. Smiles too wide.
My future carved in violence, dressed in charm.
He stands when I enter, and everyone watches my face.
I smile like I’ve been trained. Controlled. Measured. Like I’m not thinking about a man who touches me like I’m not some pawn on a chessboard.
Nico is nowhere in sight, but I feel him. Like a phantom under my skin.
Ignacio steps toward me and kisses the back of my hand. “You look stunning, my future queen,” he says, but there isn’t anything pleasant in his tone. There is only darkness.
“Thank you,” I murmur, trying to act demure, calm, but I’m far from it.
He doesn’t notice that I don’t look him in the eye.
Later that night, I find Nico in the corridor outside the east wing, half-shadowed under the arch. His stance is casual, but his eyes are sharp.
“You weren’t in the living room tonight. I was scared,” I whisper as I approach him, stopping beside him. I can’t touch him because there are too many eyes on us.
“I volunteered to help with setup. I didn’t want him to ask questions,” he says, barely glancing at me. “Wanted to keep an eye on the guests.”
He doesn’t say the rest out loud. Wanted to keep an eye on you. We both hear it anyway.
“And you know when Cassio is arriving?” I ask.
He nods. “Next week,” he tells me then, and my chest tightens. That doesn’t give us enough time. It’s going to go wrong. I have a feeling.
“That’s only five days.” My voice is a trembling whisper. It’s clear I’m scared. Even I can hear it. But I have to be strong. I can’t allow this to overwhelm me. If I do, Nico and Gillie won’t let me be a part of it.
“There is more than enough time, and we will carry out this plan,” he assures me, then finally turns to look at me. Those dark eyes holding me hostage, and I know if anyone were to see us right now, they’d be able to tell how much I love this man. “Ignacio is concerned. I’m sure he’ll want to spend as much time with you as possible over the coming days,” he says then, and my stomach lurches. “You need to play the role, Lia.”
There’s a bite in his tone, but I can’t blame him. I don’t say what I want to: he’s nothing more than a problem we will soon get rid of, and I want to be the one to do it.
Instead, I glance down the hallway to make sure we’re alone, then take one small step closer. “He’ll be more vigilant for the next two days. He wants us to… get acquainted, but there are limitations to what he can do before the wedding.”
Nico’s jaw tightens. He knows what I mean, and that’s the only saving grace. Ignacio will wait till our wedding night to want sex. It’s tradition, and one thing I know about these men, they’re strict when it comes to the rules.
“I’ll stay close,” he says. “Keep an eye on you and if you need me…”
I look up at him, my voice barely audible. “And after that?”
He pauses. “After that, I have something in motion. But I’ll need your help.”
I swallow. “Tell me what to do.”
His eyes soften just enough to make my knees feel weak. “You sure?”
“No one has ever held my heart the way you do. I’m not walking away from you, and I’m not going to lose you.” For a moment, we’re alone, finally, and I rest my hand on his chest. “I’ll do anything for you.”
He closes the distance, just enough for his fingers to brush mine. “You don’t owe me anything, Lia. But I need to save you, keep you alive.”
“I don’t need saving,” I whisper.
“I know,” he says softly. “But I still want to try.”
In the light, I’m someone’s bride.
In the dark, I’m his.
The next day, I’m woken by a knock on the door and ordered to be downstairs in thirty minutes. I know what this entails. My fiancé wants to play happy families. I’ve been hidden away since I arrived, but now that the wedding is close, it’s time for him to parade me around.
Ignacio is waiting on the patio when I get downstairs. “My bride,” he says in a dark tone that is meant to appear happy, but there is a threat twisted around every word. “I insist on walking the gardens with you today. There is a photographer here to take some candid shots of us.”
I nod and smile. “Of course.” Demure, shy, and complacent, just how he wants me.
“Tell me, my bride,” he says as we walk side by side through the gardens. I can hear the click of the camera as we do, and all I want is for the ground to swallow me whole. “What is it you’d want to do with your life once you’re married?”
“I haven’t thought about a future in Italy. I mean, I would love to study, to further my education.” It’s true. The only honest thing I can give him.
“You’ll be able to do anything you want here. I have control over the city, and they’ll gladly offer you space at the university.”
As we walk farther, I answer his questions about favorite wines and favorite colors and how many children I’d like someday. He talks like we’re already married.
“I think once you bear a son, we can try for a daughter. I’m sure you’d enjoy dressing her up and taking her shopping while I work.” Ignacio’s voice is light, nothing like the tone he used with me when we were in the room. But as he continues, it feels like he’s at a restaurant and he’s placing an order.
I don’t scream. I don’t run. Even though I want to, every bone in my body is telling me to escape.
I’ve learned how to float above my body like a ghost.
But when he touches the small of my back, I flinch—and his eyes sharpen.
“Still shy?” he says, amused.
I force a fake laugh. “Just not used to attention.”
“I find that hard to believe.” He tips his head to the side and regards me. “I do enjoy role playing.”
Bile rises from my gut, burning its way to my throat.
“We can play some delicious games when we’re alone. My men will understand.” Then he leans in and whispers, “You can fight all you want, but I’ll know you crave it.”
I fight the puke that’s slowly making its way into my mouth, but then I’m saved by the subtle shift of shadows at the garden edge. Nico. Pacing slow. Pretending to check the perimeter. But I feel his stare like a flame on my skin.
And for a moment, I remember how it feels to be touched like I’m a secret. Like I’m wanted , not owned.
Ignacio bends close to brush his lips against my temple. “We’ll get comfortable with each other soon enough.”
I want to spit in his face.
Instead, I smile again.
Because this is what survival looks like.