The mansion is silent, but my thoughts are loud.
I sit by my window, the night wind brushing against my face. My heart feels too heavy for my chest. I've been awake for hours, staring at nothing, just replaying my uncle's words over and over again.
You'll marry Liam Valtieri.
Marry him or leave this house.
I squeeze my knees close to my chest. Every part of me feels trapped.
I've heard his name before whispered in school hallways, in hushed gossip about a man who rules the underworld like a king. People fear him. They say he's heartless, dangerous, cursed never to love a woman.
And now, I'm supposed to be his bride.
A man I've never met.
A man the whole city fears.
A man who doesn't even know I exist.
The moonlight spills over my hands, pale and trembling.
I whisper into the darkness, "Dad… if you were here, would you let this happen?"
There's no answer. Just silence is thick and cruel.
I don't know when I fall asleep, but it's restless. My dreams are filled with faceless men, whispering deals and vows I never made.
Morning comes too soon.
The mansion is alive with movement. Maids rush down the halls. Beatrice's heels click sharply against the marble floor as she barks orders.
"Clara! The tea set goes in the gold room! And for heaven's sake, polish the silver! We're hosting the Valtieris, not street vendors!"
I'm still standing at my door when she spots me.
"There you are," she snaps. "Don't just stand there go change into something decent. Valtieris will be here any minute."
"Yes, ma'am," I say quietly.
She looks me up and down with disgust. "And do something about your hair. You look like you've been dragged through mud."
I nod and hurry back inside, pulling open my small wardrobe. Most of the clothes in it are hand-me-downs from Samantha. I pick the simplest one a pale blue dress that's not too wrinkled and smooth it over my body.
When I look in the mirror, I barely recognize the girl staring back. She looks terrified.
A knock at the door jolts me.
"Miss Rose," Nora whispers from the hall. "They're here."
The moment I step into the sitting room, the air feels different heavier.
Uncle Albert stands near the fireplace, hands clasped behind his back, trying to look confident. Beatrice sits on the edge of the sofa, her smile too wide to be real. Samantha lounges beside her, clearly annoyed.
And then I see them the Valtieris.
Three people enter as though they own the world.
First is an older woman with silver hair twisted neatly into a bun. Her posture is regal, her eyes sharp as steel. She doesn't need to speak to command the room. That must be Isabella Valtieri the grandmother.
Beside her, a tall woman in a dark emerald dress glides forward, her beauty severe and polished. Her lips curve slightly as she surveys the room. Matilda Valtieri the stepmother.
The man following them, broad-shouldered with salt-and-pepper hair, gives a curt nod. Uncle Marco Valtieri, I guess. His expression is unreadable.
Behind them trails a lawyer in a crisp gray suit, Mr. Grey, carrying a black folder.
Beatrice rushes forward, her voice dripping with false warmth. "Mrs. Valtieri! Such an honor to have you here."
Isabella gives a small nod. "Mrs. Albert." Her tone is cool, measured, the kind of voice that could silence anyone with a word.
Beatrice gestures toward the sofa. "Please, make yourselves comfortable."
Matilda's eyes sweep the room before landing on me. Her gaze lingers for a moment, sharp and assessing, before she turns to Albert. "And this must be… Rose?"
My throat feels dry. "Y-Yes, ma'am."
"Come closer, dear," Isabella says softly, though there's nothing gentle in her voice.
I step forward. My palms are clammy. The air feels colder with every step.
She studies me from head to toe, eyes narrowing slightly. "She's young."
"She turned eighteen yesterday," Beatrice says quickly, with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.
"Hmm," Isabella hums, leaning back. "A child, then."
Matilda chuckles under her breath. "Liam will be thrilled."
I glance at her, confused. "Thrilled?"
"Oh, don't take it the wrong way, dear," she says smoothly. "Liam doesn't… entertain much company. He's quite private."
Beatrice jumps in. "We understand, of course. We believe Rose's quiet nature will suit him perfectly."
Matilda's lips twitch. "We'll see."
Uncle Albert clears his throat. "Shall we discuss the arrangements?"
Mr. Dario opens his folder, pulling out several documents. "As discussed, the marriage contract between the Valtieri and Albert families will finalize the merger of your late brother's company, Carter & Sons, with Valtieri Enterprises."
At the mention of my father's company, I stiffen. Beatrice shoots me a warning glare, and I lower my eyes.
"Rose will move into the Valtieri estate within the next two weeks," Mr. Dario continues. you will have to sign the marriage satificate tomorrow
My stomach twists. "Tomorrow?"
Everyone looks at me.
Albert's expression hardens. "Yes, tomorrow. Is there a problem?"
I open my mouth, then close it again. "No, sir."
Isabella tilts her head. "You don't seem pleased."
"I… just didn't expect it so soon."
Matilda's voice cuts through like silk hiding a blade. "Expectations are luxuries, dear. In our world, we do what is necessary."
Isabella smiles faintly, but her eyes never soften. "You'll learn.
Mr. Grey continues The wedding date is to be discussed once Mr. Liam Valtieri approves the final terms."
Samantha frowns. "So, he doesn't even know her yet?"
Matilda smiles, sipping her tea. "Liam doesn't need to 'know' anyone to make a decision."
"Doesn't he have a say in who he marries?" Samantha asks.
Isabella's lips curve faintly. "He does. He trusts my judgment."
Beatrice nods eagerly. "Of course, and we're honored"
But Isabella raises a hand to silence her. Then, slowly, she pulls out her phone.
"Perhaps," she says calmly, "we should let him confirm that himself."
The room falls completely still.
Albert shifts uncomfortably. "You mean… call him? Now?"
"Yes." Isabella's tone is absolute. "I like transparency."
She dials a number and sets her phone down on the coffee table.
On speaker.
The room fills with the soft ringing tone.
My heart races faster with every second.
Then a deep voice answers, low and sharp as a blade.
"Nonna."
Even through the phone, the sound of it makes the air in the room change colder, heavier.
I've never heard a voice like that before. Smooth, commanding… dangerous.
"Liam," Isabella says with a hint of pride. "We're at the Alberts'. The girl is here."
A pause.
"Rose Carter," she adds. "Your fiancée."
There's silence long enough to make my skin prickle.
Then, his voice again. Deep. Controlled.
"I didn't approve any visit."
Isabella's eyes flick toward Albert. "It's only formalities, caro. We're discussing the alliance."
Another pause. Then his tone hardens.
"Do whatever you want," he says flatly, "as long as it doesn't affect the company."
Every word echoes through the speaker, filling the room like thunder.
Matilda hides a smirk behind her glass of wine.
Beatrice forces an awkward laugh. "Oh he's just… very focused on business."
But Liam's voice cuts through again before she can finish.
"And one more thing," he adds, colder this time. "Keep her out of my way until the wedding."
The line goes dead.
No goodbye. No emotion. Just silence.
Everyone in the room stays frozen.
Even Isabella looks slightly tense as she ends the call and picks up the phone. Then, with a faint sigh, she says, "You heard him."
Beatrice clears her throat nervously. "Well… of course. Business first."
Matilda stands, smoothing her dress. "Prepare her. We'll send the marriage satificate tomorrow."
I can barely breathe.
My heart hammers against my ribs so hard it hurts.
The way he spoke… it wasn't anger. It was power.
Cold, absolute power.
As the Valtieris turn to leave, Isabella glances at me once more.
Her voice drops, calm but piercing. "He doesn't tolerate weakness, dear. I hope you learn quickly."
I can't even respond. My lips feel numb.
When the door closes behind them, I'm still standing there frozen, staring at the silent phone on the table.
The man I'm supposed to marry just said he doesn't want to see me.
And somehow, that terrifies me more than if he had.