The Don's Unwanted Bride

CHAPTER 2

FLASHBACK- A Week Ago

Alyssa’s POV

I used to believe home meant safety. That it was a place of warmth, laughter, love. But ever since my mother died, those illusions were shattered like glass under a steel boot.

My father’s estate was massive, luxurious, and cold as a crypt. While the world saw opulence, I saw a cage. I wasn’t allowed to leave. I wasn’t allowed visitors. And even though I lived in a separate wing, built specifically to keep me "comfortable," it felt more like a well-decorated prison. I hadn't stepped outside in years. Not since her death.

Ten years.

Ten years of silence.

Ten years of pretending that maybe she wasn’t really gone. That she’d come back one day.

That there was some reason why there'd never been a funeral, no casket, no closure. I clung to that fantasy like a child clutching a broken toy. I needed to believe she was still out there, somewhere. Because the alternative was too painful.

Until last week.

Until he came.

I was lying on my bed, my nose buried in one of the romance novels I had read at least three times already.

Reading was my only escape. Those pages were my world. They were filled with people who loved deeply, who fought for each other, who found magic in the mess.

Then I heard it. His footsteps. Firm. Measured. Heavy with authority.

No one walked that way except him.

I sat up immediately, heart pounding against my ribs. My bedroom door creaked open, and there he was.

My father.

Tall, stern, and distant. Dressed in an immaculate suit like he was about to broker some billion-dollar deal. He hadn’t stepped foot in my quarters for months. I couldn’t even remember the last time I saw his face up close.

I stood slowly. "Father?"

He didn’t answer right away. Just walked inside, inspecting the room with disinterest, like he was assessing a property. Not his daughter’s sanctuary.

Finally, he spoke. "You’re going to get married this weekend."

I froze. "What?"

His words punched the air from my lungs. For a moment, I thought I misheard him. But his face was unreadable, serious.

"You will marry the Don of the Italian Syndicate. The contract is signed. Get ready."

"What?!" My voice cracked with disbelief and anger. I took a step forward. "You can't be serious!"

He turned, already making his way toward the door like the conversation was over.

"Wait!" I rushed in front of him. "You can’t just drop a bomb like that and leave. What the hell are you talking about? A marriage? With someone I don't even know?"

He raised a brow. "You don’t need to know him."

"So you’re selling me off? That’s what this is?"

He sighed, the sound sharp like a blade slicing through air. "This isn’t about you. It’s about legacy. Power. Control. And most importantly your protection."

"What about love? Doesn’t that mean anything to you?"

His eyes hardened. "Love is for the weak."

My breath caught in my throat.

"Is that why you married Mom? Was there ever any love between you two? Or was she just a pawn too?"

Something flickered in his eyes. Regret? Pain? It disappeared just as fast.

"Your mother was... different. But this isn’t about her. This is about you stepping up and doing what you were raised to do. Lead."

I shook my head, voice rising. "No. This is about control. About using me as leverage to buy alliances."

He leaned down, eyes cold as ice. "You have lived a soft life. Reading books. Dreaming of things that don't exist. It's time to grow up."

"You're wrong," I snapped. "I believe in love. I believe in marrying someone because you want to, not because you’re forced to. I believe in building something real, not some soulless transaction."

He straightened up, fixing his suit like my words meant nothing.

"Believe whatever you want. But you will marry him. The date is set. You have five days."

"Why him? Why now?"

"Because the Don has agreed to secure our business in Italy in exchange for the marriage. He wants a bride. We need his protection. When I am gone, he’ll be the one to protect you. "

I raised a brow

"I don't need any protection. I’m your daughter."

His silence made my hands clenched into fists. I wanted to scream. To throw something. To make him see me. Really see me.

But I knew it was pointless.

He turned to go.

"You don’t even care about what I want," I whispered.

He paused at the door, but he didn’t turn around.

"Wants are luxuries. You were raised for responsibility."

"No," I said, my voice cracking. "I was raised in isolation. In silence. In pain. I was raised in the shadow of a mother I never got to mourn."

Still, he didn’t look back.

"You should be grateful. You’ll be married into power."

"To a stranger."

"To a leader."

I stared at his back, feeling rage boil beneath my skin. "One day," I whispered, "you'll regret this."

He stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him like the final nail in a coffin. And I stood there, staring at the door, my heart breaking and burning all at once. I dropped to my knees and as the silence returned, I burst into tears.