Chapter Three
Sofia
I’ve heard of runaway brides before, but I never thought that I would seriously consider becoming one. Perhaps my parents anticipated it, hence the reason the bridal suite is far from the emergency exit with two burly men guarding my door.
This is supposed to be the best day of my life, but instead, it feels like the start of a prison sentence, and the guards my parents posted outside aren’t helping ease my nerves either.
“They’re just here for your protection, mia figlia,” Mom told me when I pointed out that I didn’t need men following me around. “You have no idea how many enemies your father and the Rossis have. Enemies that would do anything to stop our two families from joining!”
I didn’t believe her for one second—not the part about Dad and the Rossis having enemies but that the bodyguards are there to protect me.
The men are there to ensure I don't run away and escape my "obligations" as the eldest daughter of the Marino family.
Obligations I tried to beg, argue, and cajole my way out of without success.
The truth is, I did consider making a run for it.
I have enough money saved to sustain me for a couple of months while I start work and get settled into my own place.
I even threatened to do so if my parents didn't cancel the engagement, but I was told the wedding would happen whether or not I was present. Simply the bride would change.
I'm not my father's only daughter, I was told when I pushed the matter.
If I chose to leave, Elena or Gia would take my place.
Elena is only twenty-two and about to start her final year of college.
Without their support, Elena wouldn't be able to graduate, leaving her no choice but to agree to their demands.
And Gia. Christ, she's only twenty-one and deep into her ballet career.
They wouldn't just be sacrificing their careers but their chances at finding true love, something I have no interest in anyway.
I’m not sure what hurt more—my parents’ callousness or my father’s casual claims that Matteo Rossi would hardly notice a change of bride.
I am well aware that my groom does not love me, but after the way he’d looked at me over dinner the night we met, I’d at least hoped he might have some preference for me.
But it seems he doesn’t, and I’m left to fall on the sword for my sisters.
Yes, the burden of joining two wealthy families is mine to bear.
If only to protect them. My feelings be damned.
I gave up on romance for myself years ago.
Watching my mother transform from a vibrant model into my father’s perfectly groomed accessory taught me everything I needed to know about marriage in our world.
Men like my father—like Matteo Rossi—don’t love.
They possess. They control. They take everything a woman is and reshape her into what they need.
So I’ll marry Matteo. I’ll play the role of the dutiful wife. But I won’t give him my heart—that, at least, I can protect. And maybe, just maybe, I can shield my sisters from this same fate long enough for them to find something real.
“Seriously, Sofia, it wouldn’t hurt you to smile," Mom says as she moves behind me to pin the veil over my hair, adjusting it in place. “A wedding is the most important day of a woman’s life.”
I rest my hands on my lap and stare down at them, perfectly manicured and painted pink, just like Mom wanted. “I just wanted a normal life.”
“Tsk.” She makes a dismissive sound. “You should be happy that you’re marrying into a good family.”
"Good?" I look up and meet my mother's eyes in the mirror. "The Rossi family home was raided by the FBI last year. What kind of ‘good people’ get raided by law enforcement?” I turn around and grab her wrist, my eyes pleading. “Mama, it’s not too late to call off the wedding. Give me some time, and I promise I’ll find someone better.”
She tugs her hand from my grip, shaking her head in disappointment. “There is no better man out there than Matteo Rossi!”
“But I don’t even know him!”
“You don’t need to know a man to marry him.”
“What about my career? I worked so hard for years, and now I have to throw that away. Didn’t you ever want more in life than being a wife and mother?”
“What more is there?” she scoffs, leaning down and kissing the top of my hair.
“Silly girl. There is no greater accomplishment for a woman than to secure an advantageous marriage. This wedding isn’t just about you, cara.
It’s about the whole family! A partnership with the Rossi family will provide security for ours.
There is nothing more important than family! ”
I slump back in the chair, fighting the urge to snap at her that if family was so important, why weren’t she and Father there for any of our school events, performances, or graduations.
I know I’m pouting, and it only makes me angrier.
I’m about to promise my life to a man I have only met once.
A man fourteen years older than me. I’m going to kiss him and touch him, have his children… he’ll expect that, right?
Oh.
God!
After the wedding ceremony, he’ll want to consummate the wedding, and then what do I do? I don’t have any experience in that kind of thing. How do I reveal intimate parts of myself to a man I barely know?
“I can’t do this,” I whisper as a fresh wave of panic sets in. It doesn’t matter that the man is hot enough to melt steel and has eyes as dark as the night. But Christ, I can’t just let a stranger touch me. “He’ll want to sleep with me, won’t he?”
“Of course,” she says with a shrug, leaning into the mirror to check her makeup—spotless, as always.
“It is your wifely duty to be intimate with your husband. At your age, I’m sure you’ve experimented enough in college and know what to expect but here’s a tip for you.
” She leans closer, and once again, her eyes meet mine in the mirror.
“Do everything it takes—and I mean everything—to make a man happy, and he will lay the world at your feet. Now get ready; the wedding should start any minute now.”
The wedding…
Right.
The one where I promise my love and commitment to a man I haven't seen since that one dinner at my parents' house. And that was a month ago!
And now, I’m about to be his wife.
I clasp my clammy hands on my lap, feeling both cold and hot. Christ, how will I walk down the aisle without passing out? All those strangers watching me walk to a man I hardly know. A man I’ll be spending the night with.
“I need to see him,” I blurt, turning my panicked eyes to my mother. “Before the ceremony, I have to see him, Mama.”
“Don’t be silly, Sofia,” she says, turning to walk away. “If this is your new plan to try and get out of the wedding, I’m warning you, mia figlia, it’s not going to end well. Besides, it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before a wedding.”
I push up from the chair and turn to her. "Mama, the whole wedding is a sham, and the only luck I've had lately has been terrible!”
“Sofia!” my mother snaps, her voice a cold slap.
She takes a step forward, hands clenched by her sides, but she spots something that stops her in her tracks.
I follow her gaze and gasp when I see the man standing in the doorway, watching us with something dark and dangerous in his expression—like he’s deciding whether to punish whoever made me cry or claim me right here and now.
Matteo.
It shouldn’t embarrass me that the man heard what I said, but it does. I fight the urge to wring my hands or shuffle nervously on my feet when those dark eyes lock on me.
“I apologize for interrupting, Mrs. Marino, but I would like a moment with my bride.”
I wait for my mother to protest or shut the door in his face as she did earlier with a relative who was trying to get pictures of me, but instead, she nods and steps out of the room without another word.
Matteo steps in and kicks the door shut behind him, locking us alone in the bridal suite. For long tense seconds, he says nothing, watching me with those dark eyes in a way that leaves my skin burning.
I back up a step when he takes one forward, gasping when my back connects with the dresser. “W-why are you here?” I whisper, reaching back to grasp the table so I have something to support my weak knees. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck for a groom to see his bride before the wedding?”
He smirks. "You don't strike me as someone big on tradition."
"You don't know me," I retort, adding a little bite to my voice.
“I’ll have plenty of time to get to know you after our wedding.” Another step. “As for what I’m doing here, I could have sworn I heard you say you wanted to see me.”
He heard that. Shit. How long was he standing there? “You were already here before I could send someone for you.”
“Maybe I’m just that good at anticipating my bride’s needs.”
He’s playing with me, like a cat toys with a mouse. Why? “Why are you here?”
“Relax, tesoro mio,” he says in a deep voice that sends blood humming in my ears. I watch him reach into the inside pocket of his tux and come out with a box. “I came to give you this.”
“What is it?”
“A necklace,” he says, opening the box.
I gasp when he reveals a delicate chain of shimmering gold with a stunning emerald at its center. The verdant gemstone winks under the light with such delicate beauty that it steals my breath away. Just like the man holding it.
“It belonged to my late mother. She wore it on her wedding day and made me promise to give it to my bride on my wedding day.”
I force my eyes away from the necklace and to the stunning man holding it. “Then you should save it for the person you want to marry.”
“I am marrying you, Sofia.”
I ignore the way my heart skips at his words. “I meant your real wedding. I know you don’t want this wedding either, and someday, you’ll meet a woman you’ll want to spend the rest of your life with. You should give her that necklace.”
“This is a real wedding, Sofia.”