Raffaele and I sat in the cabin of the private jet, the sleek interior barely registering in our minds as we flew towards New York. We had both been lost in thought for the majority of the trip, the weight of the situation looming over us. In less than a day, we’d be meeting the women who were to become our wives—an arranged marriage, set up just a week ago to forge an alliance between our families.

It was strange how quickly it had all happened. One moment, we were living our lives, focused on our own futures, and the next, we were caught in the middle of a plan that felt more like a transaction than a union of love. Not that either of us believed in love. For generations, alliances like this had been common, used to solidify power, wealth, or status. Ours was no different. Yet, the speed of it all left little time to process. A week wasn’t enough to come to terms with the fact that the rest of our lives would be tied to women we hadn’t even met yet.

Raffaele had been grumpy the entire trip, but I couldn’t blame him. He had always been the more private one between us, his guard permanently up. Like me, he wasn’t someone who enjoyed being vulnerable. No matter how strong we looked on the outside, there was always a fear that came with letting someone in, especially under these circumstances.

“We don’t know anything about them,” Raff muttered, breaking the silence.

I nodded. That was the unsettling part. We had tried to find out more about the women, searching online for any clue of who they might be. But all we had managed to dig up were a few blurry, distant photos—taken without their knowledge. Their faces were hard to make out, and the images didn’t reveal much. What we did know was that they were both adopted, but even that information was vague.

“I just hope they’re decent people,” I replied, trying to stay positive. “And, you know… of age.”

Raffaele snorted but didn’t respond. The thought lingered in the air, though. We knew nothing about their backgrounds, their personalities, or even their ages. The pictures were too unclear to give any sense of who they truly were. All we had to go on was what little our father had told us, which wasn’t much. It felt as though the entire situation was shrouded in secrecy, and we were walking into the unknown.

As the city’s skyline came into view, a mix of dread and anticipation settled in my chest. There was no turning back now. In a few short hours, our lives would be forever changed, bound to two strangers we barely knew, all for the sake of a future that had been decided for us by our control freak dad.
We were collected from the tarmac in a sleek black BMW, its tinted windows offering us a brief moment of calm before the inevitable. The drive to the mansion was silent, with both Raffaele and I lost in our thoughts. When we reached the gates, towering and wrought iron in a polished black, they swung open to reveal the mansion itself—an enormous structure that exuded power and elegance. The stone walls had an aged but pristine finish, as though they’d been standing for centuries, guarding secrets we were about to step into.

The car rolled to a stop, and we got out, making our way towards the grand entrance. Dante Caravello, the man orchestrating this entire arrangement, greeted us at the door. His sharp suit and effortless charisma gave off the impression of a man in control of every detail. After exchanging pleasantries, he led us inside the sprawling mansion. The hall was just as magnificent as the exterior—vaulted ceilings, intricate chandeliers, marble floors, and art that spoke of old money.

Dante informed us that the girls would be joining us for lunch shortly, and afterward, we could spend some time with them to familiarize ourselves. Raffaele, standing beside me, appeared more agitated than usual. The idea of small talk with strangers was already irritating enough, but what really seemed to bother him was Andrea. He had heard whispers that she was “the last woman anyone wanted to marry,” and it soured his mood further. Still, he forced a smile, the same fake grin I wore for appearances. This was all part of the deal, after all.

As for me, I wasn’t exactly thrilled about meeting my fiancée either. Women of this world could be demanding, and coming from a family as influential as theirs, I feared she might fit that mold. Still, it was better to meet her now than for the first time at the wedding.

He sat us down at the dining table.

"I spoke to your father this morning," Dante said smoothly, though the hint of satisfaction in his voice was unmistakable. "He agreed we can announce the engagement on social media next week and set the wedding for two months from now."

Raffaele clenched his jaw so tightly I was amazed his teeth didn’t shatter.

I kicked him under the table, a silent reminder not to show how much Dante’s words were getting to us.

"That’s actually fantastic," I replied with a forced grin, though there was nothing remotely good about this.

Before the conversation could intensify, the grand doors of the dining hall swung open with a soft creak, and two girls entered, drawing everyone’s attention.

The first girl walked in with a quiet grace, her posture elegant and poised. She wore a stunning light blue gown, the off-shoulder design perfectly complementing the full-length sleeves. The fabric flowed delicately around her, catching the soft light. Her chocolate-brown hair fell in loose waves, framing her delicate features. What stood out most, however, were her eyes—bright blue, like the clearest sky or the deepest ocean. For a brief moment, her gaze locked with mine, a flicker of recognition or curiosity, before she turned her attention to the second girl.

In stark contrast, the second girl’s appearance was nothing short of chaotic. She was dressed in a garish green dress that looked more like a costume for a Halloween party than an outfit meant for dinner. The overwhelming number of frills made it difficult to discern where her arms even were, and she had somehow decided to pair the monstrosity with cowboy boots. Her blonde hair was tousled, giving her a wild, unkempt appearance, but her emerald eyes sparkled with mischief, completely unapologetic for her fashion choice.