I am suddenly woken by a cold press set on my forehead, my eyes jolting awake and I accidentally startle a woman who is kneeling beside me. She looks at me with warm, welcoming eyes.
"Hello." She greets with a soothing voice. "I'm Remy."
"R-Reagan." I replied. My eyes search the room frantically, searching for an exit.
"It's okay." Remy says.
"N-no it's not." I stutter, standing from the bed and speed walking to the door and right out of it down the hall. There is a set of stairs and I decide to make my way down them. There is a large set of double doors and I assume it's the front doors and I don't hesitate to attempt to open them— but they're locked.
"Reagan." A familiar voice calls out calmly.
My head whips around to see Nico Napolitani standing in an arch way, wearing a perfectly tailored navy suit. I remain silent, backing towards the door even more.
"I see you've now woken up!" He smiles proudly. "How are you feeling?"
I ignore his question. "What is going on?"
"Are you feeling memory loss? I believe I already told you of your engagement to my son." He smiles devilishly.
This only happens to beautiful, broken, skinny girls on Wattpad— of which I am not. "There is literally no way that I could possibly marry your kid. I don't even know him!" I exclaim.
"You will. Until then go freshen up, dinner will be ready soon." He commands. "Remy!"
The woman from before comes scurrying in, next to Nico Napolitani. "Yes, Nico?"
"Clean her up and put her into something nice. Dinner is in twenty minutes." He orders her.
"Yes, Nico." She kisses his cheek almost worshiping him before taking me by the arm and forcing me to walk with her. When I try to fight back she speaks to me in a hushed whisper. "Just do as he says." Her sudden warning scares me into submission, so I walk with her up to the room I was in before.
"What is going to happen?" I question as she pushes me into a bathroom— which is gorgeous by the way. The entire house is gorgeous; black on black everything. Very clean and sharp, yet intimidating and dark.
"You'll marry my son." She has an American accent apart from everyone else. "He is a fine young man, you just won't see him very often."
"How am I supposed to marry someone I won't ever see?" I ask bluntly.
Remy shrugs her shoulders.
"Is Nico your husband?" I ask her as she turns the shower on.
"He is." She answers quietly. "He is a good man. He helped my parents. I owe so much to him just for that."
Nico helped my parents too? Is this a fetish of the Napolitani family? Helping the poor and taking their child? That is pretty messed up. "Who is he?"
"Nico?" She asks quietly, coming back into the bathroom with a set of clothes.
I nod my head. "All of them."
"This is the Italian Mafia." She answers calmly, turning to face me for the first time.
This truly is right out of a Wattpad story.
Taking my shock as an answer, Remy turns to leave the bathroom. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes to retrieve you." Then she is gone.
Everything is so overwhelming. I am to marry a man that I don't know— and is in the Mafia nonetheless! From all the smutty stories, all the Mafia queens are beautiful and broken. I don't have enough confidence for this! And I am supposed to eat dinner with my husband's family?! They are all killers. Brutal murderers. They are also usually very good looking while I look like a thumb.
I glance up at the clock to see it's been five minutes of me standing here, therefore I have only five more minutes until Remy is going to be here! Shit!
I ran into the shower and scrubbed tears that I apparently had streaming down my face. Being reminded of why I'm crying, I begin to weep again. It doesn't go unheard and there is a knock on the bathroom door.
"What?" I croak silently.
"Reagan? It's me, Remy. Are you ready soon?" She asks with a soft, calming voice. I think I like her, I at least like her more than the rest of them.
I sigh. "Yeah." I rush as I quickly turn the water off and set out of the shower, pulling the large black towel around my slightly shivering body. While in the shower, I guess I wasn't thinking and my hair got wet so I guess I'll have to dry it somehow.
There is a set of undergarments and a maroon dress on a hanger with a set of heels on the floor. I nervously look at the size and see that it is infact a fourteen dress size which is mine and the shoe size matches perfectly. How do they know what size I am?
My sell out parents probably told them— I'm sorry that was mean. But kinda funny, but not at the same time. These people probably know everything about me. Right down to my shoe size.
"Reagan?" Another soft knock at the door.
"Yeah, I'm coming." I say as I pull the form-fitting dress over my curves. I look in the long mirror, looking at every angle of my body. All those squats I was doing worked for my ass. The sit ups didn't work as much but hey, can't have everything. Though I do hate to admit it, I look fantastic in this dress. My chest is uncomfortably high from this incredible push up bra.
I open the bathroom door and Remy walks in, looking me up and down. "You look so beautiful." Her complement hypes my confidence to a point I actually smile at my appearance.
"Thank you." I nod quietly.
"May I dry your hair?" She asks.
I nod my head, curious to how she can do my hair in the next four minutes before dinner is supposed to start. She walks to a lidding closet and takes out a matte black with golden accents. She runs the warm air over my hair with a round brush making light beach curls. When my hair is done, she does a light amount of makeup on my face and when I look in the mirror, I still look like myself, but much more put together. This get up beats my messy bun, legging and a hoodie.
"Okay, you're all set." She annousnes with a proud yet weak smile across her face. "Come on." She offers me her arm which I take. She walks me down the hall slowly. "So, there will be many men at the table. They may say some vulgar things but it won't mean a thing. I promise they won't do anything to you. But no matter what, you cannot leave the table unless you're told to. Don't speak unless spoken to. And no eye contact." She explains to me in a hushed whisper.
"Will he be there?" I ask hesitantly, studying the floor.
"Nico will be there. I'm not sure my son will; he is always busy." She sighs, looking sad at the absence of her son.
A man that I don't even know the name of. "What is he like?" I can't help but ask the question.
I see a smile on her face from the corner of my eye. But it then fades. "He is an excellent young man. Very caring and loving to some. Very brilliant."
"Will I ever see him?" I ask.
"You'll see him at one point. Once you're married you'll become close." She says.
Once again my eyes widen at the word "married". I don't want to marry someone I don't know. This will change my entire life.
"It'll be okay. You and I can hang out." She tries to bring the mood up but I am in no mood to be happy.
So instead, I just plaster a fake smile. "Okay."
Just then we made it to the dinning hall downstairs. Immediately, Remy straightens her back, and I do the same. There are a few men are already seated around the end of the table and they don't look at Remy, but they notice me. Snickering to themselves.
Remy leads me to sit next to the head of the table while she sits next to the other head of the table. We are the only two women at the table; the rest are men that seem to work out a lot, and get into a lot of fights. There is an older set of men on the side with Remy and a younger set that can't be too much older than I am on the side with me.
"So you're the boss's chick..." A man cackles with a thick accent.
I can't tell if I'm being addressed or am supposed to stay silent.
"He usually goes for thin people." Another voice chuckles, making my cheeks glow a scarlet shade.
"There must be something good with her." I hear the suggestive smile in his vulgar tone. All their accents are of a different language, so they are only speaking English so I can hear what they're saying.
They continue to make comments as I study my clammy hands in my lap. Just then, everything falls silent and everyone stands up. Involuntarily, I do as well. I risk a glance to see Nico waltzing over to the table, taking his time with a proud smile on his face.
"Oh there is no need for that anymore. You do that for my son now, not me." Then he takes a seat before the rest of the party does.
Food is served soon after. A plate is set in front of me but I don't feel comfortable eating in front of strangers. So, I just sip on my water. There is a small conversation around me but I don't listen to it until I hear my name...
"So, Reagan, how are you liking it here so far?" Nico asks.
I lift my head up and look at Nico without eye contact. "I-its nice." I lie.
They all laugh. "'Nice'?" Nico mocks.
"Well I haven't seen much of the place, yet." I replied.
I can tell he wasn't too pleased with my answer but he ignores me from then on, talking in Italian with his buddies at his end of the table while this half continues to talk English, making me uncomfortable.
A man seated on my left leans back in his chair, looking me up and down— making me rethink my entire outfit to find a reason why he is inspecting me. "She has a nice ass."
"Nice rack too." All their eyes are on me.
"You can't leave the table unless you're told to." Remy's words taunt me. I want to leave. No man has ever looked at me like these men do. No man has ever really looked my way. Which is fine— perfect even. But now there are people looking and I don't know what to do.
The man to my left puts a hand on my thigh and I flinch at the sudden contact. Without even thinking, I push the hand away and rub the spot that was touched.
They all laugh at my reaction until their laughter comes to a stop and they stand up. I do too, again.
Slow, large steps make their way towards the table. The sudden tone of the room hardens. It gets hard to breathe. I don't even look at the man, but he takes a seat at the head of the table.
Oh shit— the man who just sat down is my husband.
The rest of the party sits soon after.
"Son." Nico greets.
The man doesn't even respond. I hear him pick up silverware and begin to eat his food. Out of the corner of my eye, a knife waves in the air and conversation picks up again.
I feel a set of eyes burn unto my skull. Involuntarily, I look up to meet a pair of stormy grey eyes that sit behind dark lashes. His hair is dark, shaved on the sides and slightly longer on the top, cleanly done up. Moving down, he wears a maroon button up with dress slacks. His lips are a pale pink color surrounded by a clean scruff of a beard.
I'll admit— he is hot.
Immediately after I realized I've been staring, I snap my eyes back down and I nervously pick at my nails.
I feel him still staring at me again. Why won't he talk to the rest of his fellas at the table? Instead he just listens.
There is a sudden laugh at the table and I can't help but believe it's directed towards me. Do I have something on my dress? Is my hair frizzy? Does my face look chubby? All I know is that I want to leave. I want to go home. If I don't leave now I will have a nervous breakdown.
Someone clears their throat and I look up to see it's Remy. "Reagan dear, why don't we go and freshen up?" She offers me.
I nod my head vigorously, standing from the table. Before I can turn away, someone grabs my wrist, keeping me from moving. My eyes lock with those silver ones. He doesn't let me go anywhere. Instead he just nods his head for me to sit back down. I look to Remy for help but Nico is scolding her to sit down as well.
Defeated, we just sit back down and my breathing becomes hard to control.
That is when I noticed he was still holding my wrist. I attempt to free myself from his grip, but it only makes him hold it tighter. When I tried again, he sent me a warning glare— telling me to just stop. I stare at his hand around mine.
Long slender fingers with calloused palms. Some silver rings rest at the base of his fingers. It's his left hand, and there is no ring on his ring finger.
There will be soon.
The tension soon disappears. Dinner concluded and everyone left. It took him no time to leave. He let go of my hand and left the room with large strides. Once everyone leaves I can't help but break down.
Remy is at my side and takes me to my room. She consoles me and tells me that I did everything I was supposed to, and tries to make me feel better.
"You can get washed up and go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning." She nods her head and leaves.
Taking no time to waste, I rip off my heels, discarding them in a closet I found. In said closet, there are all types of clothes. All types of expensive clothing.
I curiously go through the racks of clothes and all the drawers. Everything has a big brand it's label. I never really look at brands or prices. My parents always just let me choose whatever I liked because they always wanted me to have anything and everything I could because they couldn't. They always made sure I had a plate of food so I was never hungry.
Fatigue growing more and more intense, I picked out a pair of shorts and a tank top. With all that is going on, my temperature is rising to an uncomfortable amount. Since I'm in a place I don't know, I of course pull a bra out as well. The one I found is a simple bralette with no structure but it's better than nothing.
Deciding against a shower, I just wash the makeup off my face before changing into my pajamas.
Maybe there is a lock on the door that I can secure. I feel my way through the darkness until my hand is on the handle. I let out a sigh of relief when I felt the slender lock. I turn it immediately and scurry off into the large bed. The black comforter engulfs me while the silk pillowcases cradle my head.
It doesn't take long for sleep to find me.
Thoughts?