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The Makeup Room - Vincenzo Estate, Italy
The reflection staring back at me was a stranger.
A girl in a white wedding gown that cost more than most people's houses. A veil cascading down her back like a waterfall of silk. Diamonds glinting at her ears and throat-gifts from a stepfather who owned her like property.
But the eyes... those were still mine. Cold. Calculating. Ready.
I sat perfectly still as the makeup artist dabbed more powder on my cheeks, muttering something in Italian about how beautiful I looked. Beautiful. Right. I looked like a prisoner dressed for her own execution.
Focus, Alina. You're getting out of here.
My fingers twitched beneath the fabric of my gown. Inside my dress, carefully hidden, was a small pocket I'd sewn myself-holding my phone and a tiny knife. Just enough to get me through the first few minutes.
Breathe.
The door opened.
---
Dante Russo stepped in, looking like a peacock in his expensive black suit. His hair was slicked back, his smile oily and self-satisfied. He was handsome in the way that snakes are beautiful-you know they'll kill you the second you let your guard down.
He dismissed the makeup artist with a wave of his hand. She scurried out.
"Liona." His voice dripped with false sweetness. "You look... acceptable."
I didn't turn to face him. I watched him through the mirror. "And you look like a mobster who can't afford a better tailor."
His smile faltered. "Your stepfather warned me about your mouth."
"Then you should have listened."
He walked closer, placing his hands on the back of my chair, leaning down so his lips were near my ear. The scent of expensive cologne made me nauseous.
"You will behave today. You will walk down that aisle. You will say 'I do.' And then you will be mine."
I laughed. A cold, sharp sound that echoed off the walls. "Yours? Please, Dante. You're not even the most dangerous man in this room."
His face reddened. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. "You think you're clever? You think you can escape? Your stepfather owns this city. Every door is guarded. Every window is locked."
I smiled sweetly. "Good. Then it'll be more fun when I break them all."
He released me with a growl. "After the wedding, I'll make sure you learn some respect."
"After the wedding," I repeated, still smiling. "Sure. Looking forward to it."
He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
---
I exhaled slowly. My hands were shaking-but not from fear. From anticipation.
The door opened again.
---
Alessia Vincenzo glided in like a queen surveying her kingdom. My stepmother. The woman who had smiled at my parents' funeral while stealing their fortune. The woman who had raised me like a doll-dressed me up, paraded me around, and never once shown me an ounce of genuine warmth.
Her ice-blue eyes scanned me from head to toe. "You're not smiling."
"Neither are you," I replied flatly.
She walked around me, adjusting my veil, straightening my dress. Her touch was cold. Clinical.
"Your father has spent months arranging this marriage. The Russo family will give us power over the eastern territories. You will not ruin this."
"He's not my father," I said quietly. "And I'd rather die than marry that snake."
Alessia stopped. She leaned down and whispered in my ear, her voice like poison: "You think you have choices, Liona? You think you have rights? You are nothing but a tool. A pawn. The sooner you accept that, the easier your life will be."
I turned to look at her. My voice was steady. "One day, Alessia, I'm going to make you pay for everything you did to my parents."
Something flickered in her eyes. Fear? Guilt? She masked it quickly.
"Do your hair properly," she said coldly. "The ceremony starts in thirty minutes."
She swept out of the room.
---
I was alone.
My reflection stared back at me. Pale skin. Dark eyes. A girl who looked like a princess but felt like a warrior.
Thirty minutes. I have thirty minutes to escape.
I reached into my dress and pulled out my phone. Maya's number was already on the screen. I texted her quickly:
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Liona: It's happening. I'm running. Meet me at the train station in 45 minutes. If I'm not there... just know I tried.
Maya: LIONA ARE YOU CRAZY?! I'll be there. PLEASE be careful.
Liona: Always.
---
I tucked the phone back in. My heart was pounding, but my hands were steady.
You can do this, Alina. Your real name. Your real life. You will get it back.
I stood up. Adjusted my gown. And walked toward the door.
---
Ten minutes later.
The adrenaline that started rushing through my veins as I was running and running, away from a group of Armed guards as they charged towards me. Well... I basically escaped from my wedding which my step parents arranged it with a mafia without my consent.
"STOP RUNNING MS VINCENZO!" one of the guards yelled as I kept on running and running, people started looking at us, at me!, a girl running in her white beautiful white wedding gown from 6 armed guards.
My heels were killing me. I kicked them off mid-run, my bare feet slapping against the cobblestones. The wedding guests were screaming, scattering. I didn't care. I just ran.
Almost there. Almost to the gate.
Suddenly just as I was about to get caught, firing started, I screamed as I covered my ears and hid myself behind the wall.
Oh god why is this happening to me!? please save me from this mess! I just turned 20 and this is the gift I got from my step parents?!
I peeked around the corner. The guards were on the ground. Dead. Their bodies crumpled like discarded dolls.
I didn't stop to think. I ran again-toward the gate, toward freedom-
Someone grabbed my arm and jerked me up to stand. I stumbled, my bare feet scraping against the concrete, my wedding gown bunched up in the stranger's iron grip.
"Finally," a voice drawled, dark and amused. "I got my enemy's weakness."
I looked up.
And my breath caught in my throat.
---
Jeon Jungkook.
He was devastatingly beautiful in the way that storms are beautiful-dangerous, unpredictable, impossible to look away from. His black hair fell across his forehead in soft waves. His jaw was sharp enough to cut glass. His eyes... his eyes were dark, intense, holding a fire that made me forget how to think.
He was wearing all black. Tactical gear. A gun holstered at his hip, another at his thigh. A scar ran along his jawline-barely visible, but there. He looked like a soldier. An assassin. A man who had seen too much and felt too little.
And he was looking at me like I was his prey.
Alina! Stop looking at him like that! He's a freaking Danger! A freaking Red flag!
But I couldn't stop myself. My heart was racing for a completely different reason now.
The traitorous organ.
---
"Done drooling?"
I snapped out of my thoughts as I looked at him. "I wasn't drooling over you!" I protested, my voice coming out sharper than intended.
He scoffed. "Oh really?"
"Obviously! Why would I drool over you? It's not like you're an idol or something." I tried to pull my arm away. His grip didn't budge.
He tightened his hold on my arm. "You really do have a smart mouth that doesn't know when to stop."
"Oh please, I use it when I need someone to be put in its place."
He smirked. "I guess I'll have to remind you that now you're my captive. I'll make sure to make your parents suffer for what they had done to my parents." His voice was low, lethal, like venom rolling off his tongue. His grip on my arm tightened, pulling me closer-but not too close. He maintained the distance like he was afraid to touch me.
Good. Stay away, psycho.
"Running from your own wedding?" he drawled, his dark eyes glinting with mockery. "Brave. Or stupid. Either way, you're my captive now."
I let out a sharp laugh, masking the fear coiling in my stomach. "Mine now? Please. You don't even know me." My voice carried mockery, the confidence I didn't really find myself earlier.
He leaned in. His lips brushed against my ear. I felt his breath on my skin.
"I know enough, Liona Vincenzo. Or should I say... Alina Ryan?"
My blood went cold.
How does he know that name?
"Let go of me," I said through gritted teeth.
"Make me."
I kicked him. Hard. Right in the shin.
He grunted but didn't release me. Instead, he laughed-a low, dark sound that sent shivers down my spine.
"Feisty. I like it." His fingers dug into my arm. "But not enough to let you go."
I opened my mouth to scream.
He clamped his hand over my mouth, and I felt something wet press against my skin-a cloth. A chemical smell flooded my nose.
No. No no no-
"You'll be quiet now," he murmured. "And when you wake up, you'll be somewhere very far away from your pretty little wedding."
My vision started swimming. The world tilted sideways. My legs buckled beneath me.
The last thing I heard was his voice, soft and almost gentle:
"Sleep well, princess. The nightmare's just beginning."
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