Page 1 of His Bride

Chapter One

Adriana

The soft glow of my tablet illuminates my face as I add the final touches to my webtoon panel. A cherry blossom petal drifts across the screen, carried by an invisible breeze. My fingers dance over the surface, bringing life to the delicate lines and vibrant colors.

This world I’ve created is my sanctuary. My escape.

The door creaks open behind me. I freeze, stylus hovering over the screen.

“Adriana.” My father’s deep voice shatters the silence.

I turn slowly, my heart rate quickening. Giovanni Moretti stands in the doorway, his imposing frame filling the space. Shadows play across his face, accentuating the lines of worry etched into his skin. His eyes, usually warm and kind, now hold a steely resolve that sends a chill down my spine.

“Papa?” I call, my voice small and uncertain. “What’s wrong?”

He steps into my room, his expensive leather shoes sinking into the plush carpet. The familiar scent of his cologne - sandalwood and spice - wafts towards me. But there’s something else. An undercurrent of tension that crackles in the air between us.

“We need to talk, piccola,” he says, perching on the edge of my bed. The mattress dips under his weight.

I set my tablet aside, the unfinished artwork forgotten. “About what?”

He takes a deep breath, his broad shoulders rising and falling. “About your future.”

My stomach twists. “My future?”

“Yes.” He clasps his hands together, knuckles white. “I’ve made a decision. An important one.”

I lean forward, searching his face for any clue to his thoughts. “What kind of decision?”

“I’ve arranged a marriage for you.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating. My mind reels, unable to process their meaning. “What?” I choke out.

“You’re to be married,” he repeats, his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of… guilt? “To Dante Rossi.”

Dante Rossi. The name strikes like a physical blow. Images flash through my mind - hushed conversations, whispered rumors. The underboss of the Rossi crime family. A man whose hands are stained with blood.

“No,” I breathe, shaking my head. “No, you can’t be serious.”

“I am, Adriana.” His eyes meet mine, unflinching. “This is happening.”

My world tilts on its axis. The familiar comforts of my room - the soft pink walls, the framed artwork and posters suddenly feel alien and oppressive. My safe haven has become a prison.

“But… why?” I manage to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

My father sighs, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “Our family is in trouble, piccola. Serious trouble.”

“What do you mean?”

“Financial trouble, the car dealerships haven’t been doing well and…” he explains, his shoulders sagging under an invisible weight. “We’re on the brink of ruin. This marriage… it’s our only chance at redemption.”

I stand abruptly, my chair scraping against the hardwood floor. “Redemption?” I spit the word out like poison. “You’re selling me to save your reputation?”

“It’s not like that,” he insists, but I can see the truth in his eyes.

“Then what is it like?” I demand, pacing the room. My hands tremble at my sides. “Explain it to me. Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re throwing me to the wolves.”

He rises, reaching for me. “Adriana, please. Try to understand-”

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