Chapter 4 I Can't Marry You, I Barely Know You

"Excuse me?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It had better be a joke. Except it wasn’t. "You heard me. Either you pay the money you owe me right now, or you marry me," he drawled, twirling his car keys around his index finger as if we were discussing trivial matters. "I can't marry you! I barely know you!" "You don't need to know me," his voice was cold and detached. "After marriage, you'll have all the time in the world to know me. We're getting married, and that's final." His words knocked the air out of my lungs. "Wait—what? No, you can't do that!" He turned to the huge man with the jagged scar—the one I assumed was the leader of his henchmen. "Bruno, get her situated in a room and send Helena to get her ready." He barely spared me another glance before stalking out of the house. I was flabbergasted. I couldn't utter a word. Bruno grabbed my arm and began to tug me upstairs. "Let me go! I'm not getting married to your boss! You have to send me back—I promise I will pay you guys back!" I begged. Bruno said sternly, "Lady, I already told you, the boss makes the rules. He wants you as his wife, and that's final. Don't make this harder for me." Something inside me snapped. I wasn’t going down without a fight. I shoved Bruno with every ounce of strength I had and raced for the door, my heart pounding. It was a stupid move, but I had to try. I barely made it to the door before a hand caught my arm, yanking me back. The force sent me crashing into the door, my cheek slamming into it with a sickening thud. "Fudge!" I cried, clutching my face. "Gio, really? You didn't have to fling her against the door. She's not one of your fighter friends," Bruno scolded. He walked up to me. "You okay?" I sucked in a breath and nodded, still dazed. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me hurt. "You shouldn't have run. If you had just done as you were told, this wouldn't have happened. Let's go." Bruno grabbed my free hand and started toward the stairs. This time, I didn't fight. I had learned my lesson. I would bide my time, look for a way out, and escape. Bruno led me upstairs into a room almost as large as my entire apartment. It was elegant—way more luxurious than I’d imagined. This wasn’t a basement or a cage. It was a room fit for a queen… or a captive bride. "This is your room. Remain here. Don't try to leave, or you won't like what happens," Bruno warned. "Someone will be here shortly with some things for you." He turned and left, and I distinctly heard the click of the lock. I was trapped. Tears threatened to gush from my eyes, but I held them back. This was not the time for crying—it wouldn’t solve my problems. I needed a plan, and I needed it fast. I paced the room, my mind racing with ways to escape. Then— "Miss, excuse me?" I yelped, spinning around. "What the heck?" A plump older woman stood before me, her stern eyes and pursed lips making it clear she wasn’t here to play. "A lady does not swear," she reprimanded. I narrowed my eyes, irritation burning through me. "I didn't swear, and even if I did, you made me. You came out of nowhere and scared the living daylights out of me. Who are you?" She crossed her arms. "I'm Helena. I run this house. Alessio wants me to get you ready for the ceremony." Her eyes roamed over my body, and she sighed. "This is going to be a difficult task. You're all skin and bones. When was the last time you had a good meal?" I scowled. "That's none of your business. And who is Alessio? You know what—never mind. Tell him I want to go home." Helena narrowed her eyes. "Alessio is the boss, and you don’t talk about him in that manner unless you’re ready to lose your head. Now, get into the bathroom and take a shower. I’ll be back with food. You can’t walk down the aisle on an empty stomach." Before I could argue, she walked out and shut the door behind her. I gritted my teeth but I obeyed. If I was going to escape, I needed to keep my head down, act meek, and find the right moment. I showered, then checked the wardrobe, but it was empty. Sighing, I sat on the bed, waiting for Helena. She returned minutes later, carrying a tray. The aroma hit me first. My stomach growled in betrayal, and I craned my neck to see what she had brought. "Eat," she ordered, placing the tray in front of me. "Then we’ll get you ready." The moment she let go of the tray, I dug in. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until the food was right in front of me. Helena watched me with an amused yet knowing look. Once I finished, she set the tray aside and placed her hands on her hips. "Now, it’s time to get ready." I wiped my mouth. "Ready for what?" Helena’s lips curled into a sharp smile. "Ready for your wedding, girl." I froze, my heart leaping into my throat. "Excuse me?" She didn’t flinch. "Didn’t you hear me? You’re getting married tonight."