#####Chapter 5

I sat quietly at the long mahogany table, staring at the stack of documents in front of me, my name neatly printed alongside Marco’s.

"Mr. Marco Luciano married Miss Francesca Colman", I read under my breath. It sounded so unreal.

Auntie Emilia fussed with her scarf beside me, a bundle of nervous energy as she dabbed at her forehead.

Marco sat at the other end of the table, impossibly composed, his blue eyes watching me with a calm intensity that made my heart flutter and my stomach churn.

The weight of this moment pressed against me like a mountain.

“Francesca,” Marco said softly, his voice like silk against the room’s stillness.

“Yes?” I met his gaze, trying to summon the courage to speak without my voice trembling.

He leaned forward, his fingers lightly tapping the table. “I understand that your love was betrayed, your pride was crushed, and you don’t trust what we’ve just started.”

His words hit like a thunderclap. My chest tightened as my past came rushing back: Gianni’s lies, my father’s downfall, the shame that had followed me like a shadow.

“But,” Marco continued, his voice unwavering, “understand this, I will pull the ends of the earth for you, my wife.”

The room felt suddenly smaller, the air thinner. His words pierced me in a way I wasn’t prepared for. My lungs seemed to forget how to work, and I gasped softly, overwhelmed by emotions I couldn’t name.

Before I could compose myself, Marco stood, walked around the table, and gently wrapped his arms around me. “It’s time to meet the family of the groom,” he murmured into my ear.

I nodded weakly, my voice lost in the whirlwind of feelings. Auntie Emilia beamed, practically glowing with pride as she stood to gather her things.

“I’ll head back to the hospital,” Auntie said, squeezing my hand warmly. “Francesca, take care of yourself. You’re a married woman now.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her as she left, her figure disappearing through the grand doors of the courthouse.

Marco watched me, his gaze softening as he stepped closer. “My beautiful wife,” he said, his hand brushing my arm in a gesture that was both possessive and tender. “It’s time. Let’s go.”

************************************

The ride to the Don Lucian's estate was quiet, save for the low hum of the car engine. Marco sat beside me, his presence filling the space effortlessly. I stole glances at him, trying to make sense of the enigma I’d married.

His jaw was set, his eyes focused on the road ahead, yet there was something unspoken in his demeanor, as though he carried a secret too heavy to share.

But before we arrived at the entrance of the estate, he asked the driver to stop, turning towards me he said, “ We are just engaged for now, that’s what we are going to tell them but between you and I, we are married. Can you play that role?” out of confusion I nodded

When we arrived, the sheer size of the estate left me breathless. The mansion loomed ahead, its stone facade both majestic and intimidating. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, a grounding contrast to the opulence surrounding us.

Inside, the compound buzzed with life. Servants moved with quiet efficiency, and voices echoed faintly from the grand hall. I felt Marco’s hand tighten around mine as we approached the main room.

In the corner, Gianni stood with his friend Peter, his posture relaxed but his voice dripping with arrogance.

“She has no one else to save her,” Gianni said, his voice carrying over the room. “She’s lucky I even considered her as a mistress. Honestly, I’m not sure she’s worth the effort.”

The smugness in his tone made my stomach turn. Marco’s hand grew impossibly tighter, his grip grounding me as we stepped into view. The room quieted as we entered, every eye turning to us. Gianni’s laughter froze mid-sentence, his expression shifting from smug to stunned in an instant.

Marco didn’t hesitate. He pulled me closer, our hands still clasped and addressed the room.

“Meet my wife, Francesca Colman, but now Francesca Luciano” he announced, his voice resonating with authority.

The silence that followed was too strong. I could feel the weight of their gazes, the shock rippling through the room like a stone dropped in water. Gianni’s face twisted in disbelief, his arrogance crumbling as he stared at us.

Marco’s grip on me never wavered as he led me further into the room. “I expect everyone here to treat her with the respect she deserves,” he added, his tone sharp as a blade.

Gianni finally found his voice, though it was tinged with bitterness. “Wife? Since when?”

“Since today,” Marco replied coolly. “Do you have a problem with that, Gianni?”

Gianni opened his mouth, then closed it, clearly struggling to find the right words. Peter muttered something under his breath, but Gianni silenced him with a glare.

Marco turned to me, his eyes searching mine. “Are you ready to meet the rest of the family?” I nodded, though my heart raced.

Marco introduced me to each member of his family with the same calm authority he’d displayed earlier.