Auctioned to the Mafia Boss 18+

chapter 8

                      POV AMELIA

Dad and I sit across from each other at a small, candlelit table in the corner of a restaurant in Manhattan.

It’s cozy, intimate, expensive.

He’s trying to maintain a semblance of cheer, raising his glass to toast our ‘new beginning,’ but his eyes betray a deep unease.

“Why are we here?” I ask. “And why didn’t you invite Mom or Mia?”
He ignores my question.

“So, Amelia, how are you feeling about everything? The debts cleared, our family finally breathing easier?”

Dad attempts to steer the conversation, but his voice trembles slightly at the edges.

“You want everything to be okay for your family, don’t you?”

I smile, playing along, yet my mind is miles away, lost in thoughts of Rafael. “Of course, Dad. But why did you only invite me?”

He hesitates, his fork pausing mid-air. “There’s something we need to discuss. About Rafael.”

My heart skips a beat at the mention of his name, a flutter of excitement mixed with apprehension stirring within me.Despite the turmoil surrounding our situation, my obsession with him, with the man who saved us, refuses to wane.

“Amelia, you have to marry Rafael Bianchi,” he blurts out, desperation and urgency mixing in his voice.

My heart skips a beat, disbelief washing over me. “What? Marry him? This has to be some kind of joke.”

But the look in his eyes is all too serious, grounding the moment in a reality I can’t comprehend. “I’m dead serious, Amelia. If you don’t marry him, he’ll have me killed. Our whole family.”

“You’ve been gambling again, haven’t you?” I see the truth in his eyes before he even admits it.

His shoulders slump, defeated. “Yes, I’ve been gambling. But I swear, Amelia, I’ll stop. I just need you to do this. Rafael is a billionaire. He’ll be a good husband to you.”

The realization hits me like a slap in the face. “You’re only thinking about Rafael’s money, not about whether your daughter will be happy. How could you?”

He glances at his watch, panic creeping into his voice.

“We don’t have time for this. We need to be at the church in ten minutes. It’s this, or your sister never goes to college. She’ll be dead, your mom too. Please, Amelia, I’m begging you.”
Looking into his pleading eyes, I make the hardest decision of my life.

“I’ll do it,” I say, my voice cracking with emotion. “But this is for Mia, not you.”
He reaches for me, but I step back, solidifying my resolve.

“I’m doing this for Mia,” I repeat, clinging to that thought like a lifeline as I steel myself for the sacrifice ahead.

“Yes, yes, whatever. Come on, we need to move.”

* * *

The chill of the evening air bites at my skin as we step out of the restaurant, the celebration turned somber confession now behind us. The church looms just around the corner, and Dad’s pace slows as we near.

“Rafael’s instructions were clear,” he mutters, more to himself than to me, his gaze fixed on the cobblestone path. “I’m to walk you to the church and then leave you to go inside alone.”Without another word, he turns and hurries away, leaving me alone in the shadow of the church, abandoned at the threshold of my new life.