Chapter No. 6
1275 Words
Cassandra Petrova:-
Smooth as silk, the jet landed on the private airstrip with a quiet thud, with the quiet luxury of the short landing hiding the chaos that had just happened in the cabin. By the time we landed, and I didn’t speak a word to Eliseo for the flight, the bruise blooming on his jaw, crimson now from my elbow, was a small mercy.
I tensed as soon as the aircraft doors opened. The tarmac was warm, the Italian sun was shining, and a row of black SUVs sat, engines purring like beasts. Stiff as statues, armed guards made a pathway to the largest vehicle at the front. Eliseo stood and straightened his cufflinks and looked down at me, as if I were a prized possession that he had just been delivered to his doorstep.
"Welcome, Mrs. Leone," he said, with mock warmth.
He offered his hand down the stairs, and I rolled my eyes and stepped down on my own.
The Leone estate came into view, draped in winding hills, and we drove through. The Leone mansion was a fortress—ancient stone wrapped in ivy, and history; wrought iron gates, and surveillance cameras hidden somewhere around the corner. It breathed power and money. I hated it instantly.
A receiving party opened the SUV doors, stopping at the main entrance.
Standing with one hand in his pocket, Tomasso Leone, former Don of the Leone Mafia, stood with sharp features carved of decades of blood and command. Looking regal and cold, Donna Angela stood beside him, her expression like winter frost.
And a few other family members, just as unimpressed, were behind them. But one woman stood out. Kiara. Upright in soft cream, dark hair in a sleek chignon. The only expression with warmth was hers. We stepped forward, and Eliseo placed a hand on my lower back. I shoved it away.
Tomasso’s sharp eyes swept over me, narrowed. "This is her?"
"She’s the one," Eliseo replied. "My bride-to-be"
Donna Angela had no desire to hide her disdain. "She looks defiant and impolite. Didn't Petrovs teach you some manners?"
"In case you are blind, Angela, then let me tell you that I am standing right here. My parents taught me some good manners but also taught me to be impolite to those who don't deserve it. To top it off, your charming son kidnapped me and ruined my wedding and then dragged me here like I was some savage animal. Well, save your pretentious looks. I don’t need your approval, and I don’t care about your opinions so you all can shove it down your asses."
An icy silence followed.
Tomasso’s expression darkened. "And you speak so boldly for someone so expendable."
I growled and stepped forward until we were almost chest to chest, "Try me. You think I fear your threats? I’ve buried men more dangerous than you a thousand times in my life. You want obedience? Pick another bride for your son and free me."
Eliseo didn’t interfere. His eyes were dark and satisfied.
Donna Angela looked with distaste. "No class. No respect. Eliseo? This is what you bring into our home?"
Eliseo said coolly, "She’s more Leone than half the blood in this house. I am the Don here, and I make the rules over here. Cassandra is my chosen bride, so I want everyone to treat her with utter respect and nothing else, or you all would have to answer me."
I felt a hand on my arm suddenly. Gentle. I turned to find Kiara.
"Ignore them," she whispered kindly. "When I first arrived, they hated me, too. You will learn to get through the ice."
I blinked, not expecting it to be so sincere. I didn’t feel utterly alone for the first time since stepping into this nightmare. But I know better than to trust anyone. They are all Leones—the vultures.
She wrapped her hand around my arm in a way that was supposed to comfort me, but it only made my walls rise higher. She led me up the marble steps into the Leone mansion, which was thick with history, wealth, and blood.
"Come on, let me show you to your room. You must be exhausted from such a long flight. You can confront them tomorrow," she said sweetly as she tried to take me to the room somewhere in this place.
I yanked back my arm and glared at her. "Don’t act sweet with me. I don’t know you, and hell no, I don’t need a friend in this house.”
Kiara blinks, severely surprised but not offended. The hand went down, she said gently. "You don’t trust anyone here. That’s smart."
"Good. Keep your sympathy to yourself, then."
Kiara’s lips pursed, but she nodded quietly with grace, a smile still plastered on her face. She was a red flag, but isn't everyone in the room a red flag over here for me?
The chandeliers glistened like crystal nooses, roses’ scent covering something metallic—power, maybe. Old blood. Mafia blood. Donna Angela hissed to one of the maids, but her eyes were on me as though I were the plague. Already done with me, Tomasso turned away, the snort of contempt coming from his throat, and walked away with his wife.
Eliseo was the last one to enter, acting as if he owned the house and every single one in it. “Make her comfortable,” he told one of the guards, before returning to me with his eyes. “But lock the doors. She’s not going anywhere.”
I clenched my fists at my sides. "I’m not a pet, Eliseo."
He smirked darkly. "No, you’re my wife," he said.
"I’m not your anything."
"You keep saying that." I caught the warm, spiced smell of his cologne, and he stepped closer, his voice dropping low to a husky murmur. "But each time you do, you do not sound so convinced because you know it too, that you belong to me."
I gave him a glare of gritted teeth. "You can't keep me caged in your prison forever, Eliseo. I am a free bird. You are smart, so you must know that birds always tend to get free with their abilities. No matter how tall a cage you can put a prisoner in."
His eyes flickered with fury and warning. But I didn’t let him speak. Swishing my chin high, I shoved past him and followed the maid with a thunderous heart. This could well have been their kingdom. But I would be their curse.
We walked through the rich hallways with the old oil paintings and an echo of power until the maid gave way to Kiara, and she showed me upstairs herself. She didn't utter a single word until we stopped in front of a set of double doors at the end of the hall.
I crossed my arms and watched her suspiciously. "I hope you aren't planning to lock me in broom closet."
Kiara smiled faintly and pushed open the door. On the other side of the door was a massive room, deep hues, rich wood, masculine. A king-sized bed. No frills.
Turning, she said, "This is Don Eliseo’s room."
I didn’t move. "What? No...no...I’m not sleeping with him in his bed."
She tilted her head. “That’s not up to me.”
Fury welling up inside me, and it poured to the edge of my mouth, I bit myself in the cheek and refused to let the rage or panic show on my face.
"You're his pet, right? Then, go and tell your Don that I won't be sleeping with him."
- Writer
