Amber’s pov:
“I’m sorry, I think I misheard you, could you repeat yourself?” I ask the tall man in front of me. He, still unbothered and expressionless, says, “I need you to be my wife.” Is he out of his mind?
Thinking about what happened yesterday, the scene still haunts me. His eyes looked dark and monster-like, and the way he…He sh..shot the other man who was cold-blooded.
I look up at him and when my eyes meet his, I notice a hint of pain hidden in his eyes behind his long lashes. His curly black hair accentuates his sharp facial features.
I say, “No deal.” As I start to walk away, his hand snakes my waist and he turns me to face him. My back hurts a little as it is pressed against the well-carved white doorframe. He says in his deep, husky voice, “Look, Amber, I am offering you the deal of a lifetime. You can run your art gallery in peace, and all you have to do in return is pretend to be my wife, only at charity events or some balls and sometimes, around my family.” His grip tightens and he continues, “Think again, carefully, because reckless decisions lead to poor outcomes.”
His words seem to be working on me as I begin to rethink my decision. I say, “I need a few minutes.” He lets go of me and walks out of the room and closes the door like nothing ever happened.
Standing in front of a long mirror, I think about my family, and I start to tear up again.
No. No more crying about yesterday. I deserve to be happy and live life the way I want to. Things happen for a reason, right? Yes, they do. This man’s offer will be a jackpot for me. My own father has thrown me out of his house, but I will not mope. I am my mother’s daughter.
I wipe my tears with my hands, inhale deeply, and open the door. As I stand in the hallway, I realize that I am one floor above the ground. The mansion is marvelous, even bigger than the one that I live in. The carvings on the ceiling and doorframes give the house a very antique touch.
The chandelier is aligned perfectly and the smaller lights complement it.
I see three servants hustling to get their duties done.
“Done devouring my house with your eyes?” His voice draws me back. I face him and say, “Well, it is beautiful.” He nods. He moves past me, but I stop him with, “Deal.” He faces me. I go on, “Before that, I need to conduct a question and answer session. Also, I’ve got a few more things to add to the deal.” He asks, “Over lunch?” I cross my arms and say, “No, I hate lunch.” He says, “In the evening, then?” I nod.
The helpers lay down a few dresses for me to pick from. I choose the red-colored one. It is off-shoulder and the lace adds to the good texture. I knot my hair into a bun. I never put on makeup until and unless it is a special occasion.
The clock struck six, and I heard the main door unlock. I step outside my room and see the man walk in. He is dressed in black; his coat, pants, and shirt match. I walked down the stairs, gracefully, and I could feel his eyes tracing every inch of me while still standing in the foyer.
He extended his arm, but I walked out of the main door right past it. He followed behind and said, “Where are we off to, Amber?” I say, “Anywhere you’d like.” He says, “I was thinking about inside the house.” I roll my eyes at him. He says, “We can sit right here.” He points to the two chairs and a table placed near the fountain.
I seat myself on one of the chairs. He sits in front of me and says, “You look beautiful in that dress.” I say, “Gives me a good reason to never wear it again.” He smirks and says, “I’m trying to be nice.” I sneer, “Try harder.” He gets up and walks to me. I see a hint of playfulness in his eyes. His hand traces my fingers, then he lifts it and plants a soft kiss, then says, “As you wish.”
He moves away and I gulp. I’m not one to allow people close to me physically or mentally, but I didn’t feel the need to push him away as his intentions didn't seem malicious.
The rosé wine bottle arrives, and he says, “Ask away.” I begin my inquiry, “What is your name?” He says, “Alessandro Bianchi.” Bianchi? No. That…That belongs to one of the most powerful mobsters in the city. I gulp and ask, “Okay…Who were you shoot…shooting yesterday?” He answers, without a glint of emotion, “Santino Martino’s gang member, he had been hired to kill me and the gang is my biggest rival.”
I empty one bottle of wine, effortlessly.
Great! I am seated with a gangster. I say, “Alessandro…” His eyes light up when I take his name. I clear my throat and continue, “Alessandro, you are a part of the mafia, what if I die?” He says, “Well, I cannot assure you that you won’t be under attack by marrying me, but you will be safe.” I say, “Screw the attack, I am scared of guns and gunshots, it terrorizes me. Besides, I don’t trust you.” He takes time to think, then says, “Look, Amber..” Not again, the last time he said that my mind took a steep turn in his direction, and with the wine it’ll only add more to the same effect. He continues, “What if I help you get over your fear?”
The wine took over.
I shake my head and say, “It’s not just a fear, I have been diagnosed with hoplophobia and phonophobia, it might as well be my end if I marry a man from the mafia, and what’s the point in having an art gallery if I don’t live long enough to see it thrive?” He says, “What if I promise to help you cross the bridge?” I repeat, “ I don’t trust you, you can use this against me to torture me, you know?”
He chuckles and says, “Amber, I am not cruel to people without a reason. You will learn to trust me. I will help you with your phobia.” He pats the table and says with an accent, “Another benefit in the favour of Amber Williams.” I laugh. Maybe because of his silly gesture or maybe because I have someone who will help me out with my phobia. Maybe I don't trust him, but at least he has no reason to betray me.
I sip on the glass of wine in sync with him. Is the second bottle down, or is it the third? I lost count.
He smiles at me lightly. I bite my lower lip and let out a chuckle. Then, he asks me, “Amber, why the passion for art?” I answer, without hesitation, “Art has been an important element in my life. I can display my emotions on the canvas, only using my mind and some brushes mixed with vivid colors. Ever since I was a kid, it is all that I've dreamt of. It was my mother’s dream as well.” My eyes betray me as they start to tear up. I stand up and turn around immediately. After wiping my tears, I ask him, “Why do you want us to play husband and wife?”
He answers, calmly, “Being the capo of a mafia family, there is constant pressure to increase my power. So, I have been receiving a proposal from Julia Pentanova’s father, who is a rich and powerful man in the mafia. My brother keeps nagging about how important it is to marry her, but I don’t want to.” His frustration is clear in his voice.
I ask, “How is marrying me going to be beneficial to you?” He says, “You are Pietro Williams’ daughter, so with you being my wife, I will have a good hand in the business world, globally.” I should tell him about how I was thrown out of the house, but he might withdraw the contract if I do, so I keep my mouth shut.
He continues, “But I don’t need anything from your family business, it is just to put on a show for Harlow, my brother.” I stand firm with, “ We, under no circumstances, are letting my family know about this.” He cocks an eyebrow at me. I justify, “My family would not tolerate me marrying someone without their knowledge.” Alessandro’s eyes have a million questions, but he does not ask a thing.
He puts forth the marriage contract, the part under his name already signed. I pick up the fountain pen placed next to me, and carefully sign under my name. I might be drunk right now, but it is better to do it this way than do it when I’m sober. The deal was sealed.
I made him shake hands with me. Yup, I am drunk.
Before he leaves, I ask him, “Why do you not want to marry Julia?” He is repulsed, “I cannot tolerate her, not even for a second.” I mock him, “How do you know that you will be able to tolerate me?” He comes close to me, and whispers in my ear, “I’m here with you, aren’t I, Tesoro?”
Mhm, do you think Amber made the right choice?
Amber's pov: He heads back inside and leaves me in the cold, his words repeating in my head. I walk into the house after a few minutes. Tesoro? I rest my head on the silky cushions laying on the bed of the guestroom pondering Alessandro's behavior. He seems to be completely different than I'd expected. I thought that he would be the typical cold-hearted and angry mob boss, but he portrayed himself to be rather sweet. With these thoughts, I doze off. The following day: "Amber, we've got to go." I heard a voice, and I replied without opening my heavy eyelids, "Mhmm...Five more minutes." "No, sit up, right now." The voice asserts its dominance. I groaned but obeyed it and then, opened my eyes. It was Alessandro. His muscular body was highlighted by the tight, blue suit sitting on him, and one of his large hands carried a thick silver watch that looked like it cost a fortune. "Don't order me around!" I snap. Alessandro smirks at me, then says, "Tesoro, get used to it, you're my wife
TW: ViolenceAlessandro’s pov:The blood-curdling memory of my father’s skin being torn apart from his body haunts me. The way his eyeballs are pulled out of his socket. Just thinking about how I was there right in front of him and yet, I couldn’t do anything about it, makes my blood boil.“Ales…Sand…Dro.” Her voice draws me back. As soon as it hits me that I’m hurting her, my grip weakens. I let go of her and walk away; up to my bedroom.I have turned into a monster while hunting down my father’s villains. What I did down there was out of order. My head hurts as I try to bury the memories of my father being tortured.I calm myself down, and after a few hours, I walk outside the room and look down the hallway. She's there.Walking down the stairs, the automated lights turn on one by one. I see Amber, still on the cold floor. Her body shivered. I say, softly, “Amber, I’m sorry.” She does not respond. I carry her up to my room in bridal style. I sprinkle some water on her face as I plac
Alessandro's pov: I order, "Give me a heads up once the snipers are done with their job." I say, calmly, "Amber, follow me." My voice gives her a clear idea about how crucial the matter is. I warn her, "Don't speak, if you do, know that it might be the end of us." She trails my path and we head toward the painting I despise. Next to it, there is a reading corner with a few books and two sturdy chairs. I pull the lever hidden amongst the books. The door next to the painting opens up. Amber gapes at the sight, I push her inside and say, "It is dark inside, just walk ten straight steps, then take a sharp right and sit tight. Here wear these." I hand over a pair of noise-canceling headphones. I hear Giovanni Flavia, the head of the gang. I close the door and seat myself behind the bookstand strategically. I open the trunk hidden under one of the tiles and get a hold of my rifles. I load them, fully and unlock the door again. I step inside and shut it, tight. "AHHHH!" Amber screams. I
Amber's pov:My heart fluttered as his thumb traced my lips. "Alessandro Bianchi!" I heard Harlow scream from the hall. Alessandro rolled his eyes as he stood up and walked away immediately. I could hear them screaming from downstairs. I am proud of myself today, for the first time in a very long, I didn't faint within the first few seconds of hearing the gunshots.Alessandro's protection somehow managed to help me, he did live up to his words.The next morning, the bed seems rather cold, as my eyes open, I notice that Alessandro is gone. "Mrs. Bianchi, today is the day of the masquerade ball. The gathering commences at 7 p.m. and will go on till 9 p.m. I've got outfits for you to choose from, all of them have been hand-picked by Mr. Bianchi," says the lady in black standing in front of me. I go over the dresses and the matching masks.All of them are beautiful in their way. I select an embroidered emerald gown with a matching lace mask. Alessandro would look great in royal green, I t
Amber’s pov:No. No, this can’t be happening right now. “Father!” I greet him cheerfully and hug him before pulling him away to a corner. He is confused. “What are you doing here?” He asks. “I don't have to give you an answer,” I glare at him. “Whatever. You were in close proximity to Alessandro Bianchi, you do know who he is, right?” He asks me, but I don’t reply. “Stay away from that man,” he warns me. “What right have you got to dictate that to me?” I ask. “Just because I kicked you out of the house, doesn't mean you aren't my daughter,” the audacity that he has to say that. I shoot him a dirty look before saying, “Look, Pietro, you have never been a father to me. Ever since my mother passed away, you have buried yourself in work and Gretchen. Not once have you bothered to ask me how I felt, or what I was going through. I was just a child, and yet, I had to deal with it on my own. Art was the only thing I could focus on, but every opportunity I got was stolen from me. Gretchen had
Alessandro’s pov: Today, the sun is shining brighter than usual. The rays of the sun plant themselves on her beautiful face. Her facial features are sharp...Just like her tongue. “Eyes off of me, Mr. Bianchi,” she whispers. “Just trying to get even. You were ogling me yesterday,” I tease her. She doesn't deny it, but rather walks into the bathroom. Yesterday, when her tender fingers stroked my rough chest, my heart pounded like never before. It was rather odd. I lay in bed, hearing her fill the tub, drop her clothes to the floor, and sit herself down in the bathtub. She hums a tune as she plays with the water. I want to walk in on her and…My phone rings and breaks me out of my trance. “Alessandro, you’re alive?” Harlow chuckles. “Pretty much,” I scowl. “Sorry for the smoke bomb brother, it was a borderline mistake,” he says. “I’m over it,” I say as I cut the call. “Alessandro, what happened yesterday?” Amber asks walking out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel covering her fine
Amber’s pov:I feel a strong pair of arms picking me up, bridal style. My eyelids are too heavy to lift, so I just stay still in his warmth. As my body touches the soft mattress, it is hesitant to let go of the warm embrace. I grip his bare arms strongly and request, “Don’t let go.” His warmth lingers around me until I fall asleep.“Good morning, Tesoro,” he gently kisses my forehead. I caress his cheek with my hand and speak through my yawn, “Good morning.” I open my eyes and realize that I was daydreaming. I can’t wrap anything around my head ever since he kissed me. I felt the need to rip his shirt off him that very minute, but I controlled myself. I shake those thoughts off me as I dress up in a short wrap skirt and a lace top, both black. “Lilly,” I greet her with fake cheerful energy, “Let’s go, shall we?” I ask her. She drags her feet across the room, and out the door, her eyes stuck on my man. I mean, Alessandro. “Lilly, are the invitations set to go out?” I ask her. “Yeah,”
Alessandro’s pov: Amber is unlike any woman that I’ve met before. All the women that I’ve brought here so far had been engrossed with swiping my card for drinks, dresses, jewelry, and whatnot, but here she is working on her hobby, literally standing out of the crowd. Her lips are pressed together, nervously as my hand is set on her waist. “We should call it a night,” she says, standing up and adjusting her skirt. “As you wish,” I say as we climb down the flight of stairs hand in hand. We head back home after a short drive. As usual, she goes to bed while I use the bathtub. I want to ask her why she drew Bianca’s portrait, but maybe she doesn't want anyone to know right now, so I’ll keep it that way. I slip into bed, and we share the same quilt. My hand grabs her fleshy thigh under the sheets. “Alessandro, keep your hands to yourself,” she says trying to escape my grip. “I don’t feel like it,” I tell her, squeezing it harder. Slowly, I move my hand up, tracing every inch of her uppe