Mr and Mrs Valentino

7

His green eyes meet mine and he speaks up, his Russian accent taunting me, making me melt. "I love you, Elena."

"I love you more." I say holding his hand, raising it to my mouth and placing a kiss on his knuckles. "I always will."

"Don't cry malysh, Please. I can't stand to see you cry."

{Baby}

"It hurts me, Van. It hurts that I can't be with you." I admit, holding onto his hand for what feels like forever. He partially got up, leaning on his elbow.

He pulled his hand away from mine and cupped my face with it. "We should run away together" he suggested. I sucked in a breath before laughing.

"I'm being serious." I protest his arm wrapping around me as I laid back down on the grass, resting my head against his chest. I looked up at the sky. "I wish it was you that I had to marry." I admit.

He played with the straps on my dress, "me too malysh. But listen to me now." He said, sitting up making me sit up as I was using him as a pillow.

"No matter what. I will always fucking love you. Even though I'm marrying someone else, your marrying someone else. We can still love each other." He explained, cupping my face. I smile and kiss him.

I pull away in a sobbing wreck,"I promise if the time is ever right, I will come back to you."

"And I promise I'll make it easy for you to find me."

He pulls out a ring, a diamond encrusted ring with rubies on the side. "No." I tell him.

"Keep this, Moya lyubov" he said placing it on my ring finger. "Don't ever take it off. This is my love to you, priceless."

"Fuck," I muttered, hugging him. "I don't wanna say goodbye."

"We have to baby" I stare into his deep green eyes, never wanting to look away.

I see two range rovers pulling up in the driveway, parking on both sides of the water fountain "it's my father." I tell him.

"I should go."

"No please." I beg.

"Your going back to Italy baby. There's nothing I can do now." I stood up, as did he.

I saw my father and his guards coming towards us, panic coursed through me and fear shivered my core. I turn to him, crashing my lips against his one more time. "I love you Giovanni" I tell him.

"I love you Elena" he said, holding onto my hand, before my father shouted.

"Elena Daniella!" My father roared, I turned around and saw he was so close.

"No papà please." I hold him back from going after Giovanni. "He's leaving papa. Please just let him go." I cry.

I turned around to see gio was gone. And there was nothing I could do. He was gone. And most likely never coming back.

Or I wasn't. "See, he's gone." I tell him, tears streaming down my face and my fathers arms wrap protectively around me. Pulling me into his chest. "I'm sorry Papà."

"It's okay tesoro. Let's get you home." He placed a kiss on my forehead.

I should have known that was the beginning of the end of my freedom. I say beginning of the end because the end was the engagement party and when I had to move in with Vincent.

When I was a little girl I dreamt about my wedding, I told my mother and father about what I wanted, I even made my dad get people to send little wedding dresses for me at the age of 5 and my mother would stand by my side as I would try them on.

I was in love with the idea of being in love.

Of being loved.

Now when I think of my wedding I picture me and Vincent, at the alter, with chains wrapped around our hands, blood dripping from them.
Our blood.

The blood we've sacrificed and the blood we will. Because that's what this marriage is. A means to an end. A means to keep the next generation going.

That's all we've ever been.

For some reason. I pity him and I'm sure he pities me too.

But I can't do it like my mother and father. Or Luciano and Leonora.

They make it look so easy. But I've never been more sure of something; it's not easy.