Chapter 1

The Rossi Family's Mansion

The air inside the grand ballroom is thick with tension. Gianna Rossi stands before a large mirror, adjusting her veil as she takes one last look at herself. Her reflection is a beautiful contradiction—poised, but her clenched jaw betrays the storm of emotions inside her. The elegant dress, custom-made to fit the daughter of a mafia family, does little to comfort her.

This is not a fairy tale. It's a business arrangement.

Gianna's father, Don Salvatore Rossi, walks into the room, a mixture of pride and cold calculation in his eyes. He places a hand on her shoulder and speaks in his low, controlled voice. "You know your duty, Gianna. This marriage will secure our future. The Romano family will be a powerful ally."

Gianna doesn't respond immediately. She doesn't want to be a pawn in her father's mafia game, yet she knows she has no choice. There is no room for rebellion in this world—especially not from a woman. Her mother, who had been silent on the matter, watches from the corner of the room, her eyes hollow as if she's already given up on ever having a say in her daughter's life.

"I know," Gianna says, her voice tight. She turns to her father, masking the bitterness in her gaze. "I won't disappoint you."

Don Salvatore nods, his expression unreadable, and leaves the room without another word. Gianna's hands tremble as she adjusts her veil one last time. The moment she steps into that ballroom, she will be a wife to a man she doesn't know. A man she doesn't want to know.

Enter Luca Romano

Luca Romano stands at the altar, his dark eyes scanning the crowd. As the head of one of the most feared mafia families, he's used to attention, but there's a coldness in his expression. This marriage, like everything in his life, is a strategic move. His family's power needs to grow, and this union with the Rossi family is the perfect solution.

He hears the soft murmur of voices and turns just as Gianna enters the room. His gaze locks onto her, and for the first time in what feels like forever, Luca is struck by something other than business. She's beautiful, certainly, but there's something more. It's her defiance, the way she holds herself despite the gilded cage she's about to enter. Luca wonders if she knows what she's getting into.

He watches as Gianna walks down the aisle, her eyes focused straight ahead. When their eyes meet, there's an instant connection—a silent understanding that this is not a romantic ceremony, but a declaration of power.

As Gianna reaches the altar, Luca holds out his hand to her. She hesitates, her fingers grazing his for just a moment before she places her hand in his. It's cold. Neither of them speaks. The air between them is thick with unspoken tension.

The priest begins the ceremony, but the words fade into the background. Gianna can't hear them over the pounding of her heart. She's not here for love. She's here because her family expects her to be.

Once the vows are exchanged and the ceremony concludes, Luca leans in slightly, his voice low and commanding. "The deal is done, Gianna. I expect you to remember that." His words are not meant as a threat, but as a cold reminder of the reality they both now face.

Gianna wants to snap back, to show him that she is no one's property, but the weight of the situation presses down on her. This is her life now. This is the world she has been born into. A world of power, manipulation, and ruthless decisions.

"I understand," she says, her voice steady but her heart racing. Her mind spins with the questions she hasn't dared ask—how far will Luca go to control her? How far will her father go to ensure this alliance is upheld?

The reception is filled with glitz, champagne, and the kind of artificial smiles that only a mafia wedding can create. Gianna stands beside Luca, playing the role of the dutiful bride, her smile tight, her mind far away. She barely listens to the guests complimenting her on her beauty. All she can think about is the life she's just stepped into.

Luca, on the other hand, is the picture of calm authority. He makes polite conversation with the powerful figures around him, his eyes occasionally scanning the room to check for threats. He's not interested in the wedding or the meaningless small talk; this is a transaction. The sooner it's over, the better.

But even as he focuses on the business side of things, he can't help but notice Gianna's quiet strength. She's a woman who is not easily swayed, and for reasons he doesn't fully understand, that makes him more intrigued by her. But intrigue isn't the same as admiration.

As the night progresses, Luca pulls Gianna aside for a private moment. The grand ballroom feels miles away, and for a brief moment, they are alone in a secluded hallway.

"You know, you could have made this easier on both of us," Luca says, his tone dark and tinged with frustration.

Gianna crosses her arms, her chin raised defiantly. "And let you think I'm just some obedient little pawn? No thanks."

Luca's gaze sharpens, a flicker of something dangerous crossing his face. "I don't need an obedient wife, Gianna. I need a partner who knows her place."

Gianna meets his gaze, unflinching. "I'll never be your partner, Romano. Not in the way you want me to be."

The tension crackles between them, an undeniable spark that neither can ignore. But both are too proud to give in to it.

As the evening winds down, Gianna steps out onto the terrace for some air. The night is quiet, but her mind is anything but. She has just agreed to marry a man she doesn't know, and already, the weight of that decision feels heavier than anything she's ever experienced.

Her father's voice echoes in her mind: This is for the family. This is for the empire.

But Gianna doesn't want the empire. She wants freedom.

Behind her, the door opens, and Luca steps out, his presence looming like a shadow.

"It's not too late to change your mind," he says, his voice low.

Gianna turns to face him, her heart racing. For the first time since the wedding, she feels something other than anger. Something dangerous.