A L Y S S A

"I didn't sign anything," I rush to say. "It was just... a conversation. This was just motivation to get me to agree..."

"Agree to what?!" She waves the money in the air. "This is not just a conversation. This is blood money. I've heard things, Alyssa... the Valentinos are dangerous people... I don't want you anywhere near them!"

I drag my hands down my face as I stand to my feet. "I know how it sounds, okay? Believe me, I know. But they weren't threatening me. They were... professional. Cold, but... polite. Like it was a business transaction."

She stares at me like I've completely lost it. "Polite? Alyssa, they're the Valentinos. Polite is just another weapon for people like them. What did they say? Tell me why they gave you $5000?"

The words feel heavier when I have to form them aloud.

"They want me to marry their son."

Carmen blinks. Once. Twice. "I'm sorry.... what?"

"Two years. I marry their son, Stephano. I give them a child, and then I'm free."

Her mouth falls open. She looks at me like I've confessed to joining a cult. "You're not serious."

"They offered to pay off Mom's medical bills. All of them. And they'll fund her care permanently, till she gets better. Plus, I get a settlement when the contract's done."

She then places the money on the table, then she grabs a throw pillow and smacks me square in the shoulder.

"Hey!" I shout, staring back at her with shock.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?! You're not going through with this! Alyssa, this is insane! This is how women end up in Netflix documentaries!" She says, and I let out a dry laugh, though it comes out closer to a choke.

"I told them I'd meet him this afternoon. That's all. Just... meet him."

She drops the pillow, staring at me like she's trying to shake sense into me with her eyes alone. "So... you're actually thinking about it?"

"I'm thinking about mom," I say, my voice quiet. "She's dying, Carmen. And I'm out of options. This isn't just about me anymore."

The silence between us is heavy, and for a moment, I watch as her features relax. Finally, Carmen exhales and sinks onto the couch beside me. Her fingers worry the edge of the pillow in her lap. "Okay. Okay. I'm not saying I like it. Because I don't. This whole thing is shady as hell. But maybe..." she pauses, reluctantly, "...maybe this is your way out. I mean, $5,000 just for showing up? That's not nothing."

"I know," I whisper.

"You said they weren't creepy or anything?"

"No. Not creepy. Just very... direct. Like they'd already decided everything before I even walked in the room."

She frowns. "Did they say anything about what happens if you don't..." she lowers her voice to almost a whisper, "...get pregnant?"

"They said I'd still be let go. But Mom's trust wouldn't be extended."

"So it's baby or bust."

"Basically."

Carmen scrubs her hands over her face. "Jesus Christ help us."

I stare at the check again. My stomach knots tighter every time my eyes land on it, like it's a hook dragging me somewhere I can't escape.

"I feel like I've already stepped into something I can't back out of."

She doesn't argue with me. She just watches me, her silence louder than words.

"I need you to do something for me," I say, turning toward her.

Her eyes snap to mine. "Anything."

"If something happens to me... if I disappear, or you don't hear from me... You go to the police, and you tell them everything."

Her mouth opens. "Alyssa..."

"I'm serious," I cut her off. "I don't care what it looks like. You take the money, you take my laptop, and you tell them everything."

Her jaw tightens, but she reaches over and grabs my hand. Her grip is warm, firm, steady in a way I don't feel. "Nothing's going to happen to you."

"You don't know that."

"I won't let it."

I want to believe her. God, I want to.

My eyes burn, tears threatening, but I force them back down. I can't cry. Not yet.

"This is crazy," I whisper. "I can't believe I'm actually going through with this."

"You're not alone, I'm right here, okay?" Carmen says. Her voice is fierce now, unwavering. "You're not doing this without backup."

I nod. It helps. Not much, but enough to take a full breath.

"I have to get ready," I murmur.

She looks me up and down, unimpressed. "I hope you're thinking of changing."

A laugh escapes me, brittle but real. "I think I look fine. If he hates it, that's his problem."

"You know," she mutters, standing, "if he turns out to be hot, I'm going to be really conflicted about this."

"I don't care what he looks like," I say. "I just want him to sign the damn papers and leave me alone."

Carmen gives me a long, meaningful look. "That's not how this ends, Alyssa. If you get a child, you're stuck with him forever..."

I glance away. I know she's right. Somewhere deep down, I know.

But I'm already in it.

And the clock is ticking.

A L Y S S A

I have never stared at myself in a mirror this long, not even on mornings when exhaustion made its home on my face, or nights when I have cried hard enough to scare myself, because this time feels different... way different...

The bathroom is small, barely wide enough to stretch my arms out, and the single yellow bulb above the mirror is enough to light up the room. As I stare at my reflection, I see every question I have not answered sitting plainly on my face, the tension in my jaw, the way my lips keep pressing together as if holding back words I am afraid to say out loud, the uncertainty in my eyes that refuses to settle, no matter how long I look.

I am dressed better than I have been in years, not glamorous or expensive, the way women like Mrs Valentino carry themselves, but still decent and intentional in a quieter way. I wear a long black dress I forgot I owned until this afternoon, it's soft fabric that falls smoothly against my body without clinging too tightly and simple enough that it does not feel like a costume. My hair frames my face neatly, washed and styled with more effort than I usually allow myself, and my makeup is light, just enough to make me look awake, functional, like someone who belongs in rooms far bigger than my apartment.

I look fine.

Inside, I feel hollow and overstretched, like I have been pulled in too many directions at once, and something is bound to tear.

As I leave the bathroom and make my way into the living room, I glance at the digital clock on the TV stand. 5:47.

Thirteen minutes.

I smooth my dress again, even though there is nothing wrong with it, then walk further into the living room, where Carmen has been pacing since the moment I came out of the bathroom, moving back and forth across the floor with restless energy, her arms folding and unfolding, her foot tapping hard enough to make the lamp tremble slightly.

Then she comes to a stop the moment she sees me, her mouth falling open as she stares me down from head to toe.

"Wow, Alyssa," she says, breathless, taking a few steps closer to me.

I lift an eyebrow, attempting humour even though my throat feels tight. "That good or that bad?"

She continues to look me up and down slowly. "That is 'a you are about to walk into a very dangerous fairy tale' kind of good."

I let out a quiet breath that almost turns into a laugh, but it fades when I realise she is not smiling.

"You sure about this?" she asks, her voice lower now, and the truth comes easily to me.

"No," I mumble.

"Then do not go." She tries to plead, her eyebrows knotted worriedly.

I shake my head, trying not to think the worst of what might happen to me tonight. "I have to."

"You do not," she insists, stepping closer, frustration flashing across her face. "You can still say no. We can figure something else out. We always do."

I look down at my hands, at the way my fingers are pressed together too tightly. "If it were just me, I would walk away. I would not hesitate. But it is not just me." I say, and it seems that's enough for her to understand.

Her expression softens, worry breaking through her anger, but she still shakes her head. "Just promise me you will be careful. Promise me you will call me every hour."

"I cannot call you every hour." I huff.

"Then every two," she says without missing a moment. "And if I do not hear from you by midnight, I am calling the police and showing up at that place myself."

A small laugh escapes me. "You would actually do that."

"I would," she replies simply, then turns toward the window and pulls back the blinds. "And right on time."

I join her, my stomach twisting the second I see the black car waiting at the curb, polished and silent, expensive and completely out of place on this street.

Carmen grabs my hand, squeezing hard. "Text me when you get there."

"I will," I say just as I pull her in for a tight hug.

"I mean it." She tells me, mumbles against my shoulder.

"So do I," I answer just before pulling away and beginning to make my way towards the door.

I do not tell her how badly my legs are shaking, or how much I want to lock the door and pretend none of this is real. I just nod, draw in a breath, and step outside before I can change my mind.

By the time I reach outside, the driver is already waiting, tall and formal in a dark suit, his expression neutral.

"Miss Hart?" he asks politely as I get closer to him.

"That's me," I answer quietly, and he nods before moving to open the door, and after a brief pause, I climb into the back seat, the interior quiet and immaculate, smelling faintly of leather and cologne.

The door closes, and locks, and the car begins pulling away from the curb.

I watch the city slide past through the window, familiar streets giving way to wider roads, streetlights thinning out, buildings replaced by hedges and gates and stretches of quiet. It feels unreal, like I am being carried farther and farther from the life I know with every passing minute.

After close to 25 minutes, we drive down a long bare road lined with rows of green hedges, and at the edge of the road, there is a set of large black gates. As we approach, they open for us, and once I look out the window, I feel my breath leave my lungs.

The driveway curves through gardens and fountains illuminated by warm lights, statues rising from greenery like silent watchers, and then... the mansion appears. It's a pure white, lit up by golden lights that glow softly as dusk settles. Massive, elegant and surreal.

The car stops at the front of the mansion, and the driver steps out to open my door. As my heels touch the stone, I look up at the place where my life is about to change.

"They are waiting for you inside, Miss Hart," the driver says, and I nod and step forward.

I guess it's finally game time...

A L Y S S A

The guards at the entrance take a curious look at me before they finally open the doors, allowing me passage. Inside, the space steals my breath, marble floors gleaming beneath towering ceilings, a sweeping staircase rising upward, light spilling from a chandelier so large it looks like it probably cost more than my entire livelihood.

Then a woman appears, beautiful in her simple yet elegant grey dress, smiling back at me with politeness.

"Miss Hart, welcome. Right this way." She says, and that's when she begins guiding me through a series of quiet hallways and into a sitting room filled with firelight and black velvet.

"You may wait here. Please have a seat." She instructs me to one of the couches, and I stare at her nervously before taking a seat and looking around the room in pure awe. Okay, I knew the Valentinos had money, but they're practically living like royalty here...

"Would you like something to drink?" She asks me softly, and I contemplate it. Maybe a drink would help me calm my nerves, but then I realise that I need a clear mind for what is to happen.

"No, thank you," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.

The woman simply nods at me before turning to walk away.

As she leaves, I sit quietly, waiting patiently as I listen to the fire crackle softly, filling the silence. I remain perfectly still, afraid that if I move too much, I will betray how unprepared I feel. This is a mansion. I am here to meet the man I agreed to marry... a complete stranger. All because my mother is dying...

At any second now... I'm about to meet the man who might own me for the next two years. And all I can think is... I shouldn't be here. But it's too late for that now.

If you had told me yesterday that this was where I'd end up in the next 24 hours, I would've probably told you to jump into the river.

After what feels like forever, I finally hear footsteps approach, and I immediately stand to my feet, straightening out my dress yet again and taking in a deep breath to compose myself. Mr and Mrs Valentino enter without a word, side by side, like royalty entering a throne room. They gazes immediately lands on me, just before they share a curious glance at each other, before turning back and approaching me slowly.

"Miss Hart," Mrs Valentino says with a nod, a small smile grazing her red lips as she makes her way over to me. "Welcome. You look lovely." She says.

"Beautiful," Mr Valentino adds, his voice smoother than it has any right to be. "Our son will appreciate the effort..." They say, and they seem to be more excited than I expected for me to meet their son...

As they stare back at me, I'm unsure of whether to thank them or correct the assumption. But still, I speak up anyway.

 "Thank you, Mr and Mrs Valentino..." I answer them despite the tightness in my throat.

Mrs Valentino nods, then takes a seat on one of the velvet chairs, perfectly composed, while Mr Valentino remains standing, glancing toward the door behind him.

"He'll be here any moment." Mr Valentino informs me, and that's when my heartbeat spikes yet again.

I nod once, my heart pounding. I try my best to keep calm despite the ringing in my ears. What will he be like? Will he be completely unattractive and rude? I have no idea...

Soon, my thoughts are cut short by the sound of footsteps. Slow, unhurried and seemingly confident.

I feel it before I truly see him, the way the air changes, the way my lungs forget how to draw a full breath, the instinctive tightening in my chest that has nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with survival. When I finally turn my head and look at him, I understand why his parents spoke about him the way they did, why Carmen joked about cold-blooded princes, why this house feels built around power rather than comfort. Then I turn my head, and time seems to slow me as I come face to face with the man who has just entered the room...

I freeze as I eye him from head to toe, completely stunned by how handsome he is... He's much taller than I expected, taller than both his mother and father. Broad shoulders beneath a perfectly cut black suit. His hair is pitch black and wavy, sharp against his cream-white skin. And his eyes, cold and steel grey, scan the room with the precision of a man who sees everything and feels nothing. He bears a striking resemblance to both Mr and Mrs Valentino, and that's when I realise exactly who he is...

Stephano Valentino himself.

By the time his eyes land on me, I feel the impact like a physical thing, my stomach suddenly tightening as though I have been singled out by something that does not miss and does not forget. His brows draw together slightly, not in anger, not in interest, but in confusion, as if my presence disrupts an expectation he did not know he had.

"Who is this?" he asks, his voice smooth and low, devoid of anything resembling kindness, yet still enough to send chills running along the surface of my skin.

I flinch internally even though I remain still, my hands folded tightly in front of me, my shoulders drawn back as though posture might protect me from the scrutiny pressing down on my skin.

His gaze moves away from me and settles on his parents, sharp and questioning as he waits for them to answer.

Mr Valentino does not hesitate. "This is Alyssa Hart," he says calmly, motioning his hand towards me.

"Your future bride." He finally says, and that's when I meet Stephano's gaze, too afraid to say anything. His parents didn't tell him this was happening? Why does he seem so confused...

My nerves skyrocket, and I know that whatever his reaction will be, it won't be a good one...