Bound By Power

The dining room buzzed with quiet conversation as the plates were cleared away. Dinner had been a formal affair, with Elena’s family sitting across from Damien’s, the atmosphere thick with tension. Every bite Elena had taken felt like it could choke her. The weight of what was about to happen pressed heavily on her chest, her hands trembling slightly beneath the table.

As the evening came to a close, Vittorio signaled to one of the staff, who brought out a silver tray adorned with velvet ring boxes. The sound of chairs scraping the floor filled the room as everyone stood, gathering around the grand dining table. Elena’s heart skipped a beat, her pulse quickening as she realized what was happening.

It was time for the engagement ceremony.

Her engagement ceremony.

The room was dimly lit, soft candles casting flickering shadows on the walls. The glow highlighted the expectant faces of her family members, but all Elena could focus on was the cold reality settling in her bones. This was it. Once that ring was placed on her finger, her life would no longer be her own. She would belong to Damien.

Belong to him.

The words sent a shiver down her spine. Her body felt stiff, her breath shallow as her gaze darted toward her father, who stood beside Vittorio, both men speaking quietly, satisfied with the arrangement that would unite their families. She could feel the weight of their expectations bearing down on her, pressing her further into the inevitability of it all.

When her eyes found Damien, he stood still, his tall frame towering over her from across the room. His expression was unreadable, his face calm and composed as always. He was so much older than her, so much larger, and in that moment, he seemed like a force of nature—silent, but impossible to escape. His green eyes, sharp and piercing, flicked toward her for the briefest second. No emotion flickered across his face, yet there was something in that glance—something possessive. He didn’t have to say it, but Elena felt it deep in her gut.

He knew. He knew that after tonight, she would be his.

And so did she.

The members of both families slowly circled around, forming a small gathering, their eyes filled with anticipation. Elena stood frozen, her palms slick with sweat. She was barely 15, her petite frame dwarfed by the presence of the people around her, especially Damien, who seemed to tower over her as he approached. His steps were slow, deliberate, as if every movement carried meaning.

Her breath hitched when he finally stood before her. His dark suit, tailored to perfection, emphasized the broadness of his shoulders. His black hair, neatly combed back, contrasted sharply with the brightness of his eyes, which were locked on her now with an intensity that made her heart race.

She lowered her gaze to the floor, too nervous to meet his eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. Her brown hair fell loosely around her face, its soft waves brushing against her cheek as she fidgeted, trying to calm her trembling fingers. Her eyes darted to the tray holding the rings, the small symbols of the future she didn’t choose. The future she had no control over.

A soft cough drew her attention back to her father, who motioned for her to step forward. Her feet felt like lead as she moved, every step taking her closer to the inevitable. Standing beside Damien felt like standing in a shadow—his shadow. He was so much taller than her, so much more composed, while she felt like a fragile bird about to be caged.

Vittorio stepped forward first, his deep voice cutting through the silence. "This union marks the beginning of a new chapter for our families," he said, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "May it bring strength, prosperity, and loyalty."