The night felt longer than it had any right to be. After the chaos of the chapel, Elena was too numb to process anything. The reality of the situation hadn't fully sunk in. One moment, she was free, running from a life she couldn’t bear, and the next, she was shackled by an unexpected marriage to the man who had vowed vengeance on her.
The mansion loomed over her as they returned, a cold, imposing structure that seemed to swallow her whole. Its gothic architecture and barren grounds were a sharp contrast to the warmth of the city. Every step she took toward it felt like a step further away from the life she had known.
Sebastian didn’t speak a word as they entered the mansion. His grip on her wrist never loosened, guiding her through the long, dimly lit corridors. Elena's mind was a whirlwind of confusion and anger, but she knew better than to lash out. The last thing she wanted was to provoke him further, not when he had already proven how easily he could bend the world to his will.
They reached a grand staircase, its marble steps leading to the upper levels. “This is where you’ll stay,” Sebastian finally spoke, his voice cool, indifferent. He stopped at a large set of doors, opening them to reveal a lavish bedroom.
Elena stepped inside, taking in the room’s opulence. The bed was large enough to swallow her whole, the linens pristine white and impossibly soft. The room was decorated in muted tones of gold and ivory, a far cry from the chaos she had left behind in Rome. There was a vanity against the far wall, mirrors lining every corner, and a view of the estate’s garden through the windows. But none of it comforted her. It all felt like a gilded cage.
Sebastian stood at the threshold, watching her with an unreadable expression. “I don’t need to explain the rules,” he said, his gaze heavy. “You’re mine now. And you will follow my lead.”
She turned, meeting his eyes for the first time since the ceremony. There was a certain chill in her veins, but she refused to show weakness. “I will never be yours, Sebastian,” she spat, the words sharp and defiant. “Not now, not ever.”
A slight smile tugged at his lips, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “We’ll see, Elena. We’ll see.”
With that, he left, his footsteps echoing down the hall, leaving Elena alone in the quiet, cold room. She stood there for a moment, her fists clenched by her sides. Her mind raced with plans and schemes, but she knew she had to bide her time. The man she was now bound to wasn’t just dangerous—he was ruthless. But Elena Viteri was no stranger to power plays. She had her own tricks up her sleeve.
As the door clicked shut behind him, Elena finally allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. Her breath hitched, and she sank onto the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. The life she had run from had caught up with her faster than she had anticipated. But no matter how dark this chapter seemed, she refused to let it be the end.
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Hours passed before Elena finally rose from the bed, her resolve hardening. She couldn’t remain passive in a place like this. Sebastian’s cold dominance wouldn’t break her. She had survived worse than this.
She moved toward the window, pushing the curtains aside to gaze at the sprawling garden below. The moonlight illuminated the grounds, casting long shadows over the path that led into the woods beyond. She had to get out. She couldn’t let herself become a prisoner in this grand house.
Just as her thoughts began to crystallize, the sound of footsteps approached the door. She tensed, her pulse quickening as she straightened, readying herself for whatever Sebastian would throw at her next. The door opened, and to her surprise, it wasn’t him.
A woman stepped inside, her presence commanding but softer than Sebastian’s. She was older, with sharp features that looked like they had once been youthful but now carried a weight of age and experience. Her eyes were dark, studying Elena with curiosity.
“Are you the one he married?” the woman asked, her voice low and measured.
Elena’s posture stiffened. “Who are you?” she demanded, wary of the woman’s intentions.
The woman smiled thinly, her lips curling with a mixture of disdain and amusement. “I’m your aunt, or will be, I suppose,” she said, as if it were a casual statement. “I’m Francesca. Sebastian’s aunt.”
The word hit Elena like a punch to the gut. She had no memory of a family connection to this woman, but she could sense the power in her tone. The woman wasn’t just a relative; she was someone who had likely played a central role in Sebastian’s world for years. That realization struck Elena with a sharp chill.
“I didn’t know I had an aunt,” Elena said slowly, choosing her words carefully. “What do you want?”
Francesca’s smile widened, though it was far from comforting. “I wanted to see what kind of woman Sebastian has chosen for himself. You’re... interesting.”
Elena narrowed her eyes. “I’m not here by choice, if that’s what you mean.”
Francesca’s gaze softened slightly, but only for a moment. “No one is ever here by choice. But the real question is what you intend to do about it.”
Before Elena could respond, Francesca turned on her heel, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. “Dinner is in an hour,” she said over her shoulder. “You’ll find me in the dining room. I’m sure Sebastian will join us soon.”
Elena didn’t speak. She stood there for a long time, digesting the words. It was clear that Sebastian’s family didn’t see her as an ally—nor would they offer her any comfort. She was, at best, a pawn in their game. But if there was one thing Elena had learned from her years in the mafia, it was that power was not easily taken. She would play their game—on her own terms.
But for now, she had a meal to face.
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