*NOT FULLY EDITED*
Adelyn Laurent; the only child to the rulers of the French Mafia. Treated nothing less than a princess her whole life, she dreamt of travelling the world, escaping her father's strict gaze and starting her very own French Patisser...
I look at my outfit one more time in my mirror and smooth it out with my hands. I went with black because that's what you wear to funerals and today I feel like I'm dying.
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Dramatic ass bitch.
Shut up, I feel like shit.
I spent the entire night packing up everything I own and got no sleep. By the time we've finished signing all the wedding papers all my stuff will have been moved into the penthouse. Luckily there's a storage cupboard because there's a lot of shit.
I make my way downstairs and into the car. Mama and Father are talking to Lee and to each other and I try my best to zone them out.
I lean my forehead against the cool glass of the car window and soak in the beautiful French streets; filled with happy, busy people and cosy little stores. I wanted to own one, one day. A pretty little French Patisserie, with flowers out the front and a vegetable garden out the back so we could use our own produce. I wanted to spend every day serving customers and making them happy with my baking. Make a name for myself that separates me from my Father, make my own money so I'm not viciously accused of using 'Daddy's money' every time I buy something. Now that'll never happen. I feel like I'm being forced to put my dreams in a box and shove them under a bed and forget about them.
To my Father this is simply another thing he has to do for business, he hasn't taken into account the repercussions this will have on me. He knows how bad things were two years ago and he chose to ignore them then, and he's choosing to once again ignore my feelings about this.
I suppose I should have seen this coming though. Ever since I could walk my Father's been polishing me like his prized jewel, to one day be handed off to benefit him. Don't get me wrong, I love Father and he loves me, it just sometimes feels like he's so caught up in his own ambitions and life he forgets to leave room for mine.
I don't want Father to think I'm being selfish and childish about not wanting to get married, he simply doesn't understand the mental toll it's already taken on me, and that I'm scared it's only going to get worse once we have to move to Italy. I've tried. I tried so hard to make him understand how bad things got the other year, but he refused to believe that his precious little prized jewel could be damaged in any way.
I'm snapped out of my thoughts by Mama excitedly shaking my arm, "Ma chére we are here!" she smiles at me. I give her a small smile back and look at the venue ahead of us.
There's no denying it's beauty, it's just the circumstances which let it down. We step out of the car and walk into the foyer. Father talks to the receptionist whilst me and Mama sit down on the velvet chairs, waiting for the De Santis' to arrive.
I hear the automatic doors open and watch as Luca, Alessandro, Sophia, Marco and Val walk in. Val smiles at me and rushes over to hug me, "You ok precious?" she whispers, her eyes filled with concern. I give her a short nod before we all make our way into a smaller room.
