Bloodstained Vow

Sienna's POV

The air in my father's study was thick with the scent of cigars and deception. I stood before his mahogany desk, arms crossed, as he swirled a glass of whiskey in his hand. The dim light from the chandelier above cast long shadows across his face, making his features look even more severe.

You're marrying Luca Valentino. The words crashed into me like a bullet to the chest.

I stiffened, my nails digging into my palms. He said it so casually, as if he were discussing the weather. As if my life wasn't about to be handed over to a man whose name alone sent shivers down the spines of grown men.

Luca Valentino "IL Diavolo" Cold, Calculated and Ruthless.

The man who had murdered my uncle in broad daylight without a single ounce of hesitation.

I forced my face to remain blank. Showing weakness in front of my father was like bleeding in a pool of sharks. But inside, my mind was already spiraling, grasping for a way out. No, my voice was steady, but my pulse thundered in my ears.

My father sighed, as if my refusal was merely an inconvenience. He took a slow sip of his whiskey before leveling me with a bored look. This isn't a negotiation, Sienna.

I swallowed hard. You expect me to marry the man who slaughtered our blood? My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I didn't care. Let him see my anger. Let him feel it.

He set his glass down with a quiet clink, his expression unreadable. Your uncle was a liability. Heat rushed to my face, he was family.

He was weak, my father said simply. And in our world, weakness is death.

My stomach churned, a mix of fury and dread twisting inside me. He wasn't just forcing me into an arranged marriage, he was handing me over to a man who had spilled our family's blood.

Why him? I demanded, my nails digging deeper into my skin.

My father leaned back in his chair, regarding me as though I were a child throwing a tantrum. Because alliances keep empires standing, he said. Luca is the most powerful man in this business, having you at his side secures our future.

I let out a cold, bitter laugh. Our future? Or yours?

A flicker of something, annoyance maybe passed through his eyes, but it was gone in an instant. Luca needs a wife, you need a husband and it's done.

I shook my head. I'd rather die. His expression didn't change, but the air in the room shifted a warning or a reminder. Then he said the words that made my blood run cold.

Then you'd be of no use to me. The finality in his tone was suffocating. My father had never been the kind to raise his voice. He didn't need to. His power lay in his ability to make people fear him with just a look, a word, a decision.

And in this moment, I realized something with horrifying clarity. I wasn't his daughter. I was his pawn.

Tears burned the back of my eyes, but I refused to shed them. Not here, not in front of him. Instead, I forced my chin up, meeting his gaze with defiance.

Fine, I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I'll marry him.

But I wouldn't be his obedient little bride. I would fight Luca Valentino at every turn.