The morning sun filtered through the grand windows of the estate, casting a golden glow across the marbled floors. It should have been the perfect day, Aria's perfect day. But beneath the satin and sparkle, tension crackled in the air like a storm waiting to break. Aria sat before the mirror in her bridal suite, the lace of her gown glimmering softly under the chandelier. Her reflection stared back with a mix of disbelief and quiet dread. She was about to marry Luca DeLuca, her captor, her savior, her chaos, her home.
The air was thick with the scent of roses, lilies, and something else, perhaps anticipation or fear. Outside, the estate buzzed with activity. Security guards scanned every corner, the DeLuca crest flew high over the gates, and dignitaries from both families arrived under watchful eyes. The wedding was not just a ceremony but a political statement, a merger of two empires that would reshape the mafia landscape forever.
