Heer
The cold marble floor beneath my feet reflected my pale face as I stood in the middle of a grand, unfamiliar room—Carlos's private estate outside Florence. Not a single guest. Not a single flower. No music. No warmth. Just cold luxury and colder stares.
The room was so quiet I could hear my heartbeat. It was too fast, too loud, like a drum warning me that I was walking into something that would break me.
I wasn't wearing red or gold or anything that a bride should wear. Just a plain ivory dress my mother had picked. No jewelry. No makeup. Just me—bare, trembling, and lost.
Carlos walked in, dressed in a tailored black suit. The man I was going to marry… without even knowing him.
He didn't look at me when he entered. He was talking to someone on the phone in Italian—his voice low but dangerous. His presence filled the room like smoke: heavy, dark, suffocating.
When his eyes finally met mine, my breath caught in my throat.
He was… devastatingly handsome. But not in the way movies show. He was real. Tall, sharp jawline, eyes so dark they looked like night itself. There was no softness in them. No warmth. Just cold calculation. The kind of look that could kill a person—or protect them with the same intensity.
He didn't smile. He didn't greet me.
He just nodded once. "Shall we?"
I nodded, too afraid to speak.
A priest stood quietly in the corner, paid to witness a wedding that was never meant to be holy.
The ceremony was short. The priest asked us to repeat the vows.
Carlos didn't flinch. "I, Carlos Moretti, take you, Heer Kapoor, as my wife—by contract, for one year."
That wasn't how vows were supposed to go. But the priest said nothing.
I swallowed hard. My voice barely made it out. "I, Heer Kapoor, take you, Carlos Moretti, as my… husband… by contract… for one year."
I felt something inside me crack. I wanted to run. I wanted to scream. But I stood still, because this wasn't just about me. This was about family, business, fear. The things women like me were taught to sacrifice for.
The rings were slipped on. Cold metal. No emotions.
No kiss. No smiles. No applause.
Just a quiet end to a life I once imagined differently.
Carlos
She didn't speak unless she was told. I noticed that.
She was too still. Like a statue made of glass.
Pretty, yes. Frightened, obviously. But what caught my attention—just for a second—was her eyes. Big, brown, too honest for this world. Eyes that didn't belong in the house of a mafia heir.
She looked at me like she was seeing a monster. That was fine. I had been called worse.
After the vows, I turned to Matteo and said, "Make sure she gets the east wing. No one disturbs her. She won't be part of my life unless necessary."
Heer flinched.
I didn't care. That was the rule. Distance. No feelings. No distractions.
She was just a wall between me and political enemies. She was a debt payment. A formality.
But somewhere deep in my chest, something tightened for half a second when I saw her wipe a tear before she turned away.
I hated it.
Heer
That night, I sat on the edge of my bed in my new room. It was bigger than my entire apartment back home. Gold-framed mirrors. Velvet curtains. Everything smelled like power and money.
But I felt poor.
I cried quietly, afraid someone would hear me. Afraid Carlos would.
I didn't even know where he slept. Or if he ever slept at all.
I looked at my ring. It was beautiful. Expensive. But it felt like a handcuff.
My parents didn't call me. No one did. I was alone. In a mansion. Married to a man I didn't know. In a world I didn't understand.
I wanted to rip the ring off. But I didn't. Because this wasn't just a marriage. It was survival.
And I had to survive.
Carlos
I watched the security footage.
Yes. I had cameras in her room. Not because I didn't trust her. But because I didn't trust anyone.
I watched her sit on the bed like a ghost. I watched her cry quietly into her hands. No screaming. No throwing things. Just quiet, hopeless tears.
And something twisted in me again.
She was soft.
And soft things don't survive in my world.
But… maybe I had made a mistake thinking she would break.
Maybe she would surprise me.
And maybe that scared me more than I wanted to admit.