Author's POV:

The grand dining room of the Anderson mansion was an imposing space—large enough to fit dozens, but tonight, it would serve only a select few. The table was adorned with the finest Chinese crystal glasses, and candlelight that flickered like whispers in the dark. 

Everything was meticulously prepared, not for a family gathering, but for the arrival of a predator, Lorenzo Vitale, the most feared mafia boss in Italy, and the man Leyla was expected to marry.

After an Hour...

Leyla walked into the room, her heart heavy with dread but her face calm, a mask of indifference she had perfected over the years. Her mother had coached her, her father had insisted, but none of that mattered to her now. She was being sold off, and tonight, the price would be her freedom.

As she approached the long dining table, her father, William Anderson looked up from his conversation with Lorenzo and smiled at her, pride gleaming in his eyes. Her mother stood next to him, perfect as always, her gaze sharp as she subtly nodded at Leyla to play her part.

Leyla standing at the side of the room gaze at everyone presented in the large hall, her brother Noah, her father William, Carol her mother and then at last her dark future Lorenzo Vitale.

Seated at the head of the table, Lorenzo's presence dominated the room, though he hadn't said much since his arrival. Dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, his dark hair slicked back, he looked every inch the mafia king he was. His sharp features, chiseled jawline, and piercing gaze made him a man others feared without question. But his most dangerous quality wasn't his appearance—it was the cold, calculating aura that surrounded him, the kind that made people second-guess every word they spoke in his presence.

Leyla felt a chill creep down her spine as Lorenzo's eyes locked onto hers. There was a flicker of something—interest, perhaps—but nothing that resembled warmth or affection. He didn't see her as a person, only as a piece of his empire.

Suddenly, he stood up from his chair, his movements slow and deliberate. He began walking toward her, each step steady, unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. Leyla's heart raced in her chest, her breath caught in her throat, and she couldn't seem to tear her gaze from his eyes, which never wavered from hers. She was frozen, stunned into inaction by the intensity of his stare—her destroyer, the man who would shape her future.

When Lorenzo was just a few inches away, he stopped. Leyla could feel his presence all around her, the heat of his body contrasting sharply with the cold that had settled in her bones. He reached out, his hand brushing against hers, and the sudden contact made her flinch. His skin was warm, hard—his fingers encircling hers with a quiet dominance that sent a wave of electricity through her.

Their eyes locked again, and Leyla couldn't look away. His expression was unreadable, but there was a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. The smile wasn't kind. It was a silent promise of control, a gesture that told her she was already his.

Lorenzo guided her hand, turning it gently until it rested against his chest. His lips brushed the back of her hand, soft but lingering, sending a shock through her. The kiss felt cold, distant—more like a claim than an act of affection.

"Your place is beside me," he whispered, his voice low and commanding.

Without waiting for her to respond, he gently tugged her toward him, guiding her to the seat beside him. Leyla's legs trembled as she stood, but she followed his pull, feeling the weight of his hand on her arm. She couldn't pull away, couldn't find the strength to resist. As she sat down beside him, he leaned closer, his presence overwhelming, filling the space around her.

His hand remained on her, possessive and unyielding, as if marking her as his. Leyla sat still, trapped in the silence between them, the heavy weight of her future settling in her chest like a stone.

The future. Her future—a future that felt like a noose tightening around her neck.

She sat down, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she tried to keep her expression neutral. The tension in the room was palpable, every word spoken between her father and Lorenzo laced with underlying threats and power plays.

The dining hall was unusually quiet, the air heavy with tension as everyone sat at the long, polished table. The soft clink of silverware was the only sound, as if the room itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to break the silence. Leyla sat beside Lorenzo, the weight of his presence next to her like a constant, oppressive force. Her family sat across from them, each of them trying to maintain composure, though the strain was evident.

Her father, William, kept his gaze steady on Lorenzo, a forced smile playing on his lips as he leaned forward, eager to please. "We're honored to have you here, Lorenzo," he began, his voice smooth, his tone almost too polite. "It's clear that a partnership between our families could prove very... fruitful."

Carol, sitting next to William, nodded quickly, her eyes flickering nervously to her daughter and then to Lorenzo. "Yes, absolutely," she added, her voice warm but tinged with desperation. "We've always admired the Vitale legacy. It would be a great honor to be aligned with your family."

Noah, who had been sitting in silence, suddenly shifted in his chair, his gaze hardening as he looked at both of their parents. His protective instincts for Leyla were undeniable, and he couldn't suppress his frustration any longer. "Are you really okay with this?" he asked sharply, his voice rising a little. "You're willing to let her marry a man like him just for some business deal?" He shot a glare at Lorenzo, though his expression remained cold and composed.

Lorenzo, unfazed by the interruption, leaned back slightly in his chair, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "Your concern is touching, Noah," he said, his tone mocking but controlled. "But this isn't about just business, is it? It's about securing the future of your family. For your father, your mother... and for Leyla."

Leyla stiffened at his words, but she didn't look at him, instead focusing on the plate in front of her. She could feel the pressure of the moment—the heavy expectations pressing down on her from all sides.

Her father nodded, clearly more interested in the financial benefit than any emotional attachment. "Exactly," he agreed smoothly, his eyes never leaving Lorenzo. "This is about ensuring the prosperity of both our families. It's a wise move, a strategic alliance." He gave a pointed look at Noah, as if daring him to argue further.

Noah's face flushed with anger, but he kept his voice steady as he turned back to Leyla. "You don't have to do this," he said quietly, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "I won't let you go through with this, Leyla. We can figure something else out."

But Leyla couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. She knew what was expected of her. She knew there was no escape from the future Lorenzo had planned for her, and it was already too late to turn back. Still, her heart ached with the pressure mounting around her.

Lorenzo, sensing her discomfort, reached over and placed a hand gently on hers, his fingers cold and possessive. "We'll be making this official soon, Leyla," he said smoothly, his voice low but firm. "Our families will benefit, and you'll have your place beside me. You know this is the way things are supposed to be."

She could feel the weight of his touch, the finality in his words. There was no question—it wasn't just a business deal. It was a claim, a mark on her life that she could never undo. And yet, her family sat there, eager to please, as though nothing was wrong. They were already imagining the wealth and power that would come with their association with Lorenzo. They were too consumed by greed to see the damage it was causing her.

Carol, always the one to keep the peace, forced a smile. "It's such a wonderful opportunity for all of us," she said, though there was an edge of uncertainty in her voice. "A union like this... it's a dream."

Lorenzo turned his gaze on her, his smile never reaching his eyes. "Indeed. A dream for all of us," he said smoothly, before turning back to Leyla. "But for you, it's not just about business. It's about understanding your role in this new world we're creating. A future where you will be by my side—always."

The words were a knife twisting in Leyla's chest, but she didn't speak. She couldn't. Not in front of her family. Not in front of him.

Noah stood up suddenly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "This is wrong," he said, his voice filled with frustration and anger. "I won't sit here and pretend this is okay. Leyla deserves better than this—better than him."

Lorenzo raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the outburst. "Your sister's future is already decided, Noah. You should accept that." His voice was calm, as though he were speaking to a child.

Noah clenched his fists, but his gaze shifted to Leyla, a silent plea in his eyes. "You don't have to do this, Leyla," he repeated, his voice quieter this time, filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination. "I'll fight for you."

But Leyla just looked at him, her heart breaking with each word. She knew there was no fighting this. The deal was done. Her future had already been sealed.

Her father, sensing the tension escalating, cleared his throat loudly. "Let's not turn this into a disagreement," he said, his voice sharp as he shot a quick look at Noah. "We all want the best for Leyla, and this partnership will ensure that. Lorenzo is a man of his word, and his family has more than enough to offer."

Carol nodded quickly, though there was a faint tremor in her voice. "Yes, yes, we're all on the same page here. This is what's best for everyone."

Lorenzo's hand tightened around Leyla's, his touch unyielding. "I look forward to the formal announcement," he said smoothly, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "It's a step toward a new era for both our families. And I trust that you'll be happy in your new role, Leyla."

The room fell silent again, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. The family, with their greed and ambition, had already accepted their place in his world. Leyla, however, was still caught between them—her family's expectations, her brother's plea, and the dark future Lorenzo had already set in motion for her.

She didn't know what would come next, but she did know one thing for certain: she was no longer just their daughter. She was a piece of their game. And Lorenzo Vitale, the man who had claimed her, was in control of it all.

The dinner had ended, but the atmosphere remained thick with unspoken tension. William, never one to miss an opportunity to smooth things over, shifted in his chair and turned to Leyla with a calculated smile. He glanced at Lorenzo, then back at his daughter.

"Leyla, why don't you take Lorenzo to the garden? You two could use some time alone to talk," William suggested, his voice smooth and too casual, as though this were just another friendly suggestion rather than an instruction. His eyes lingered on Lorenzo for a moment, before shifting back to Leyla. "It will give you a chance to discuss things, and I'm sure Lorenzo would like to get to know his future wife better."

Leyla's breath hitched at the words "future wife," and she could feel the weight of the moment sinking in. She wasn't given a choice—this wasn't an invitation, it was an expectation. Despite the discomfort twisting in her gut, she rose from her seat slowly, her eyes meeting Noah's for just a split second. He didn't say anything, but the concern in his gaze was unmistakable.

Lorenzo stood up at the same time, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. "I'd be delighted to have a talk with my fiancée," he said, his voice smooth and laced with a quiet amusement. There was no kindness in his tone, only the thrill of claiming something that was already his.

Leyla turned without a word and started walking toward the garden doors, her heart racing. She didn't look back, knowing the inevitable was only moments away. Lorenzo followed, his footsteps steady and confident, echoing in the quiet hallway.

As they reached the garden, the night air was crisp and cool, the sky stretched above them with stars glimmering faintly. The moon cast long shadows across the manicured lawn, and Leyla couldn't help but notice the beauty of the garden in contrast to the storm brewing in her chest. She stopped near a stone fountain, the sound of water gently flowing the only sound in the quiet night.

Lorenzo came to stand beside her, his presence as imposing as ever. He didn't need to say anything for her to feel the weight of his attention on her. His eyes lingered on her face, reading her every emotion, every subtle shift in her body language.

He spoke first, his voice low and controlled. "I must say, it's a rare thing to find someone so... resistant," he said, his amusement barely concealed. "You're putting up quite the fight, Leyla. But it's in your best interest to accept what's happening. I can make your life... much easier if you simply cooperate."

Leyla forced herself to look at him, her expression unwavering. "I don't need your help," she said, her voice sharper than she felt. "I don't need you, or anyone, to decide what's best for me."

Lorenzo chuckled softly, the sound dark and rich with amusement. "You're adorable when you're defiant," he remarked, stepping closer, his gaze never leaving hers. "But let's be honest. This is already decided, isn't it? You're not going anywhere, and neither am I. You can keep fighting me, but eventually, you'll see that this is the only path forward. For you, for your family... for your future."

His words hit her like a blow, and though she tried to steel herself, she could feel the dread swirling inside her. She didn't want this future. She didn't want to be his. But she couldn't deny the fact that it was happening, and no amount of resistance seemed to change it.

Lorenzo took another step closer, his presence closing in on her. "You see, I find it fascinating how much resistance a person can offer when they've already lost," he said, his tone smooth, almost too calm. He reached out, his fingers lightly grazing her arm, the touch sending a chill through her. "Your parents—they've already given you to me. It's just a matter of time before you understand that."

Leyla flinched, instinctively pulling away from his touch. "I'm not some object you can own," she said, her voice tight with anger. "I don't belong to anyone. Not you, not anyone."

Lorenzo's lips curled into a small, knowing smile, as though her words amused him. He took another step toward her, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and something darker. "Of course you don't think you belong to anyone. But you do, Leyla. You already do." His voice dropped lower, his tone rich with possession. "You'll learn soon enough. When we're married, when you see the world I offer you, you'll forget all this resistance. You'll learn to like it."

Leyla's pulse quickened, her breath shallow. She took a step back, the words he spoke sinking into her like cold steel. She didn't want to picture that future with him. She didn't want to belong to him.

"I won't ever like it," she snapped, her voice breaking slightly under the weight of her own conviction. "You can't make me like it."

Lorenzo didn't flinch. He didn't look surprised, either. He regarded her with quiet amusement, as though her defiance was exactly what he expected. "I don't need you to like it," he said softly, his tone almost condescending. "I don't need your approval. But eventually, you'll understand that you don't have a choice. You'll learn to obey. You'll learn to be mine."

Leyla's heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to scream, to fight him, but the truth lingered, suffocating her. There was no fighting this. He was already in control. He would always be in control.

She pressed her back against the cold stone of the fountain, her gaze meeting his with a defiance that only barely masked the fear growing inside her. "I won't be yours," she said, her voice trembling despite her effort to sound strong. "You can't make me."

Lorenzo stepped closer, his eyes darkening with an unreadable intensity. He leaned down just enough so that his lips brushed against her ear, sending a shiver through her. "We'll see, won't we?" he whispered, his voice a low, commanding growl. "Sooner or later, you'll realize you don't need to fight anymore. You'll realize how much easier it is when you let me take care of everything."

He pulled away slightly, eyes still locked on hers, the smirk never leaving his face. "But for now, I'll give you time. Time to come to terms with it."

Leyla didn't answer him. She couldn't. Her resistance, though fierce, felt like it was slipping away with every word he spoke. She was trapped in a web she couldn't escape, and Lorenzo knew it.

As he turned to leave, his hand brushed against her arm once more, sending a jolt through her body. "We'll be seeing more of each other, Leyla," he said, his voice dripping with a quiet, dangerous amusement. "You'll get used to it. To me. To us."

Leyla watched him walk away, her body still trembling. She was no longer sure what to believe. But she knew one thing for certain- her life had just changed forever, and she had no idea how to stop the storm that was about to engulf her.

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Hi cuties (❁'◡'❁), 

This is my first timing of writing a story and please comment and vote so that I know story is interesting or not. 

Also, in starting chapters may be boring but as the story progress it will become interesting.

Any thoughts....

Lorenzo's look