c1

 Lily's POV

Lily gazed out the window, lost in thought. The world outside was a blur of colors and shapes, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was off and that she was missing something important. She sighed and turned away from the window, eyes scanning the room. It was familiar yet foreign as if she had never truly belonged there. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, but the feeling persisted. She needed to figure out what was wrong, but how?

Her heart pounded as she hurried down the long hallway toward her father's office. Her heavy footsteps echoed off the walls, announcing her arrival before she even reached the door.

She approached the door with a sense of trepidation, her hand reaching out to grasp the cool metal of the doorknob. With a careful twist, she pushed the door open, her heart racing as she stepped inside. Her heart raced as she approached his office door.

She hesitated momentarily, taking a deep breath, before finally mustering up the courage to knock. The sound echoed through the quiet hallway, and she anxiously awaited a response. As the door opened, she was met with his piercing gaze, and her nerves only intensified. She stepped inside, feeling small and vulnerable in his presence. Despite the warning signs and the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, I couldn't resist the temptation to enter.

I pushed open the creaky door and stepped inside, the musty air filling my lungs. The room was dimly lit, with only a few flickering candles casting eerie shadows on the walls. But I pressed on, my curiosity getting the best of me. And so I came in anyway.

As I stood before my father, I solemnly vowed that I would not allow him to see the fear etched on my face. I knew I had to be vital to show him I could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

With a deep breath, I straightened my posture and met his gaze steadily. Though my heart was pounding, I refused to let my emotions get the best of me. I was determined to prove that I was made of sterner stuff to my father and myself. I strode confidently towards my father's study, my heart pounding with anticipation. I stood tall and proud as I entered the room, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination.

"Yes, Father," I said firmly, "why did you call me?" I took my place in front of his imposing wooden desk, which dominated the space and seemed to fill the entire room.

Despite the weight of his presence, I refused to flinch or show any sign of weakness. His hand trembled slightly as he reached for his glass, causing the liquid to slosh over the rim and onto the papers before him.

He cursed under his breath as he watched the droplets soak into the once-pristine pages, leaving behind a sopping mess. With a heavy sigh, he gathered the now-wet documents and set them aside to dry, hoping the damage wasn't too severe. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the empty bottles on his desk. The amber liquid had been consumed, leaving nothing but a faint aroma of hops and barley. He sighed, feeling the weight of the day's events settles heavily on his shoulders.

The emptiness of the bottles seemed to mirror the emptiness he felt inside. He knew he shouldn't have turned to alcohol to numb his pain, but it was the only thing that seemed to offer relief. With a heavy heart, he reached for the empty bottles and placed them in the recycling bin, hoping to rid himself of the physical reminder of his weakness. The room was shrouded in darkness, the heavy drapes drawn tightly shut to keep out any hint of sunlight. It was as if the very essence of the space had been cursed, doomed to remain forever in shadow.

As I approached him, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. His stern countenance made anyone think twice before coming to him. However, I mustered up the courage to speak to him. He was facing away from me, his broad shoulders hunched over the bar as he took a long sip of his beer.

"Excuse me," I said tentatively. "Do you have a moment?" He turned his head slightly, acknowledging my presence without fully facing me. "What do you want?" he asked gruffly. I hesitated for a moment, intimidated by his demeanor.

 But I knew I had to push through my fear. "I was just wondering if you could help me with something," I said, shaking slightly. He took another sip of his beer before finally turning to face me. His eyes bore into mine, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. But to my surprise, he spoke to me in a calm and measured tone. Despite his intimidating appearance, he seemed almost approachable.

As he extended his hand in greeting, he softly said, "You are my youngest child and the only daughter in our family." His eyes held a warmth that spoke of love and pride, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in his presence.

 She returned his handshake, feeling connected to this man who had just revealed himself as her father. My father took a long drag from his cigarette before extinguishing it in the ashtray.

Slowly, he turned around in his chair to face me, his eyes piercing into mine. Without hesitation, he spoke the words that would change my life forever. "You are going to marry Damian Hertz," he said, his voice firm and unwavering. I felt my heart sink as the weight of his words settled in. I knew there was no arguing with him; my fate had been decided.

My heart skipped a beat at the mere mention of his name, and my breath caught in my throat. It was as if the world around me had suddenly come to a standstill, and all that mattered was the sound of his name echoing in my mind.

Damian Hertz muttered his name under his breath, his mind racing with disbelief. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was as if he were living in some twisted dream. "Damian Hertz, what the fuck?" he muttered again, his voice barely above a whisper. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, but the image before him remained unchanged. It was a surreal moment, one that he would never forget.

She racked her brain, trying to recall when she had last heard his name. It had been so long since they had spoken, and yet his memory lingered in the back of her mind like a faint whisper. She closed her eyes and focused, trying to summon any detail that might help her remember. Finally, a faint glimmer of recognition sparked in her mind, and she softly whispered his name. I gasped suddenly, my eyes widening in surprise or shock.

Trembling, I spoke up, my voice barely above a whisper. "They were part of one of the largest underground mafia enterprises," I said, my heart pounding.

She had always dreamed of a pure and true love that would transcend societal expectations and norms. She didn't want to be subject to the restrictions of her position, status, or anyone else's expectations but her own. For her, love was a sacred bond that could only be forged between two souls who truly understood and appreciated each other. She longed for a partner who would love her for who she was and respect and cherish her in every way. And so she refused to settle for anything less than true love. The trappings of wealth or power would not sway her, nor would the allure of status or prestige tempt her. For her, the only thing that mattered was finding someone who would love her unconditionally and be her partner in every sense of the word.

His father's jaw clenched tightly as he spoke sternly, "Exactly." As she sat at her desk, staring at the calendar, she couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over her. He would be arriving in just one week, and she knew that she had to be ready. The consequences of not being prepared were too severe even to consider. She took a deep breath and tried to push the anxiety aside. She knew what she had to do.

She had to make sure that everything was perfect. The house had to be spotless, the meals had to be delicious, and she had to be always on her best behavior. She couldn't afford to slip up. Not this time. The last time he had visited, things had not gone well. She had been unprepared, and her behavior had been less than ideal.

The consequences had been severe, and she vowed never to let it happen again. As she made her to-do list, she couldn't help but wonder what would happen if she failed. She didn't even want to think about it.