The room felt powerful, a constant reminder of her authority in our family.

"Why did it take you so long, Serafina?" she asked impatiently.

I approached her cautiously, trying not to make her angrier. "I'm sorry, mother. I was talking to Michele," I replied politely.

She narrowed her eyes, studying me closely. "You need to manage your time better, Sera. Small talk can wait. We have more important things to discuss."

I braced myself for the lecture that usually followed our conversations. But deep down, I wondered if there was more to life than just the Mafia world. Was there a way to break free from the restrictions that bound me?

My mother's intense gaze interrupted my thoughts. "Your twenty-first birthday is coming up, Sera," she stated matter-of-factly. "And you know it's a crucial milestone for our family."

I nodded, understanding the importance of turning twenty-one. It meant I would be pushed into the world of arranged marriages and alliances, where others decided my future.

"We have found a suitable match for you," she continued, her voice lacking emotion. "He comes from a respected Mafia family with power and influence." She smirked.

Silence filled the room as I processed her words. Another pawn in the game of power, forced to marry someone I didn't know.

It was a destiny the women had reluctantly accepted, but deep down, they longed for a say in their own life.

But, I am Serafina Moretti. I reluctantly shape my destiny.

"I don't give a flying fudge to it, mom. I get to marry when I want, and I choose whom I will marry."

"Seraf-"

I cut her short, "Save that explanation for father, mom."

Saying this I left

The following days were filled with melancholia. The only best things my days had were the car rides with Lucien or girly gossip with Gabby and Lilly.

Today we were discussing a crucial strategy for our upcoming drug deal. The tension was palpable in the room, and I was sitting there with my veins popping out. My father won't listen. The plan he and his old men are suggesting is shit.

It's like giving open ground to the law to come and get us. No covers at all. Because of their outdated techniques, last time my brother was shot and nearly arrested.

"No, Serafina," my father said firmly, his voice echoing through the room.

"What I am suggesting is the best."

I clenched my fists under the table, struggling to keep my composure.

"Father, if we don't adapt, we'll be exposed. My plan minimizes that risk. Last time, because of the same plan as this, Fratelllo was shot and nearly caught."

His eyes hardened. "Enough. Your brother was caught because of his mistake. He didn't take the cue, and he was caught. My decision is final."

"It's easy for you to say so because you have never been on the ground with the enemies surrounding you. You don't know the tension a soldier has there; it's easy for you to make loose plans, get people killed, then pay condolences to their family and move on.

Saying this, I got up.

"I don't give a damn about your plan. My men won't be a part of this."

I left the meeting abruptly, the tension unresolved. I stormed out of the room, my frustration boiling over.

As I stepped into the hallway, I saw Lucien standing outside the mansion, just as we had agreed.

His presence for me was the ultimate solace.

Without a word, I walked straight to him and wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his chest.

He hugged me back, his arms strong and comforting around me.

"Hey," he whispered softly. "It's okay."

I didn't respond; I just held onto him, letting in his warmth and steadiness.

I just held him in complete silence. Only the sound of chirping birds and the distant rustling of the leaves, were creating a soothing background music.

Breathe Serafina.

I breathed in his Iris scent, which soothed my frayed nerves.

"𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑙? 𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔."

"𝑀𝑦 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑎 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑢𝑚𝑒. 𝐼𝑡𝑠 𝐵𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑡 𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔𝑒 𝑖𝑠 540. 𝐷𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡?''

" 𝑁𝑜. 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑒. 𝑀𝑦 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑖𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑟, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑠𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠."

"𝐼𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑜?''

''𝑌𝑒𝑠.''

"𝑆𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑢𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙?"

"𝑂𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝐼𝑟𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑅𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑒."

After a few moments, I pulled back and looked up at him, grateful for his silent support.

"Let's get out of here," I said quietly.

Lucien nodded, understanding without needing to ask.

We left the mansion and drove to the beach, the salty breeze and crashing waves providing a much-needed escape from the tension of the day.

We walked along the shore, the sand cooling beneath our feet. The water glowed golden as the sun began to set.

For a while, we just walked in silence, letting the serenity of the beach wash over us.

I couldn't help but admire Lucien's calm demeanor.

He had this way of making everything feel less complicated, even when my world was spinning out of control.

I glanced at him, wondering how he managed to stay so composed amidst the chaos of our lives.

As we continued walking along the shore, I remembered a time when family dinners were filled with laughter and warmth, before the weight of the Mafia world turned them cold and distant.

The memory of my father's rare, genuine smiles felt like a distant dream.

After he became a Capo, everything changed.

Lucien, sensing my shift in mood, gently squeezed my hand. "You okay?"

I nodded, but the truth was, I wasn't. The beach, with its soothing sounds and tranquil setting, only made me more aware of how far I was from the life I once imagined.

I thought about the arranged marriage and the loss of freedom that awaited me.

"You know," I said, my voice wavering, "sometimes I wonder if there's a way out of this. If there's a way to be more than just a pawn in this game."

Lucien stopped and looked at me with a seriousness I rarely saw. "I wish I could give you a simple answer, but I know that's not how this world works. All I can promise is that I'll be by your side, no matter what."

He pulled me close, and I felt the warmth of his body against mine. "You're stronger than you know, Serafina. And maybe, just maybe, we can find a way to change things together."

After a while, he spoke. "You want to talk about it?"

I sighed, kicking at a seashell. "It's my father. He doesn't trust my judgment. Every time I try to prove myself, he shuts me down. And the fact I've already proved myself to him, doing the most undreamable thing for him and yet he still shadows my thoughts"

Lucien stopped and turned to face me, his eyes filled with understanding. "It's tough, being in that position. But he does it because he cares, even if it doesn't feel like it. When I was your age, after my 16th kill my father thought I was finally worthy of something to do in this world. So cheer up, we have a very long way to go"

"Killed my 30th man yesterday... Isn't that enough?"

He acted surprised for a second and let out a laugh.

"Damn woman, you should be a mobster already.''

"Exactly, I have the responsibilities of a mobster but not its title.'', I scoffed.

I looked out at the horizon, the endless expanse of the ocean reflecting my turmoil.

"I just want him to see that I'm capable, that I can handle more responsibility."

He reached out and took my hand, his touch grounding me.

"He will, Perle. You're strong and smart. It's just going to take time."

We continued walking, the conversation flowing more easily now.

We talked about our dreams, our fears, and the weight of the lives we were born into.

Lucien shared stories from his childhood, and I found myself laughing, the tension slowly melting away. He always has a story about him to tell whenever we meet.

His tales are never ending.

"You know," Lucien said, a smile playing on his lips, "when I was a kid, I used to think I would grow up to be a race car driver. My mom had to hide my toy cars because I'd race them down the stairs."

I laughed, picturing a young Lucien causing chaos with his toy cars. "I can totally see that. Did you ever get into trouble?"

"All the time," he admitted, grinning. "But it was worth it. Those were the days when everything seemed so simple."

I looked at him, admiring the way the fading light played on his features.

"You've always been driven, haven't you?"

He nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. "I guess so. But it's different now. There's so much at stake."

I felt a pang of sympathy, understanding all too well the pressures he faced.

"It's hard, isn't it? Balancing what we want with what we have to do."

"Yeah," he said softly. "But it helps to have someone who understands.

"We continued walking, the conversation shifting to lighter topics.

We reminisced about the places we used to go as children, the mischievous adventures we had, and the dreams we had shared.

As the sky darkened and the stars began to appear, we sat down on the sand, the cool night air wrapping around us.

I leaned against Lucien, feeling more at peace than I had in a long time.

"Thank you," I said softly. "For being here, for understanding. Always."

He smiled, his arm around my shoulders. "Always, Perle. I'm here for you, no matter what."

He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from my face.

"You're strong, resilient, and passionate. And I admire you for that."

"Take things easy and you'll be fine. And if they are not, we can shoot whoever that bothers you in their head."

"Even it is my father?''

"Yes if he hurts my precious Pearl."

His words were like a balm to my wounded pride, and I found myself leaning into his touch, seeking comfort.

"You know," I said, breaking the comfortable silence, "I think we should do this more often."

Lucien looked at me, his expression soft. "I'd like that. It's nice to get away from everything and just be ourselves for a while."

I nodded, feeling a sense of contentment I hadn't felt in a long time.

As we walked back to the car, I realized that this night had been a turning point.

It was a reminder that, no matter how complicated our lives became, we still had each other.

And in that moment, that was enough. We sat on the hood of the car, staring out at the waves. I took a deep breath and decided to share something that had been weighing on my mind.

"Lucien," I began hesitantly, "my mother talked to me about marriage yesterday."

He turned to look at me, curiosity and concern in his eyes. "Oh? What did she say?"

I shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just the usual. She thinks it's time I settled down, find someone to marry. You know, for the sake of alliances and all that. She said they have found someone for me. But I don't know if I want to marry him or not. I am leaning more towards the 'no' side. What if he is a very old guy? And his children are of my age?"

"That's a nightmare.", he laughed.

"I mean I have to accept whatever happens, its not like the deal can be compromised. I just feel that... I should get the chance to fall in love and make someone fall for me. I want that freedom."

He kept staring at me the whole time I was speaking.

He is the only one who makes me feel heard.

In this world where even loud screams are turned a deaf ear, he doesn't let my whisper go unheard.

"If you don't like your husband, try to call the marriage off."

"What if nobody listens?", I asked him.

"La nuit va tomber pour toi, mon ami. Le prince parlera.", he laughed.

Night will fall for you, my friend. The prince will speak.

The rhythm of the waves was soothing, a gentle reminder that even in our chaotic lives, there were moments of calm.

"Let's build something," Lucien suggested, breaking the silence with a playful grin. "Something to take our minds off everything."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Like what?"

He grabbed a nearby stick and began drawing in the sand. "How about a sandcastle? It's been years since I last made one, and I'm curious to see if I still have it in me."

Mind you, as playful as he is now, he is deadlier than this in the battlefield.

I chuckled at the thought. "You're on. But let's make it a bit more interesting. How about we build the most elaborate sandcastle we can and see who can come up with the best story about it?"

Lucien's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Deal."

We set to work, the soft, cool sand slipping through our fingers as we sculpted towers and walls. Lucien's concentration was intense, and I couldn't help but smile at his determined expression. I found myself lost in the simplicity of the task, the worries of the day fading as we built our sandy fortress.

As we worked, we chatted and laughed, sharing stories and childhood memories. Lucien recounted his mischievous adventures with toy cars, and I told him about the time I attempted to bake a cake for my father's birthday, only for it to turn into a disaster.

Our laughter echoed over the beach, mingling with the sound of the waves. The sandcastle slowly took shape, a testament to our shared effort. The sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the horizon with hues of orange and pink.

Finally, we stepped back to admire our creation: a sprawling castle with turrets, a moat, and even a tiny bridge. It wasn't perfect, but it was ours.

"It's a masterpiece," Lucien declared, surveying our work with satisfaction.

I laughed and nudged him playfully. "I think we make a pretty good team."

He looked at me with a tender expression. "Yeah, we do. Sometimes it's nice to step away from all the chaos and just be ourselves."

We sat down beside the sandcastle, the cool breeze brushing against our faces. As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, I felt a sense of peace I hadn't experienced in a long time.

"This is exactly what I needed," I admitted, leaning against him.

Lucien wrapped his arm around my shoulders, his warmth a comforting presence. "Me too. It's moments like these that remind me what really matters."

We sat in companionable silence, the sounds of the beach a gentle backdrop to our shared contentment. For a brief moment, the weight of our responsibilities and worries felt lighter, and the world seemed a little more manageable.