The Proposal

ELENA'S POV

The truck had rumbled to a stop, and my heart raced. The gate in front of us opened slowly, revealing a grand mansion that looked like it belonged in a fairy tale. Antonia, my cousin, and Uncle Julio were all dressed up, elegant and fancy. But there I was, dressed in cheap clothes that looked like I was in rags.

The guards greeted Antonia and Uncle Julio with respect, but when their eyes met mine, I shrank under their gaze. We stepped inside the huge house, and it was like entering another world. Dark paintings hung on the walls, and the floors were so shiny, I could almost see my own reflection.

The theme colors of the mansion were strange but beautiful – black, amethyst, and gold. It was both enchanting and intimidating. We moved through grand hallways, and I couldn't help but admire the beauty around me.

Finally, we reached the dining room. A long table was set with fancy dishes, and at the head of it all was Dante, the man who ran this place. He looked just as powerful as people described him, and everyone said he was the big boss.

Antonia and Uncle Julio greeted Dante with smiles, but I just stood there, like a little mouse in a lion's den.

Uncle Julio had been to this grand house before, talking about Antonia's marriage. Antonia and Dante were to get married. But every time he came back, he seemed more like a mere slave, bound by invisible chains.

As we entered the dining room, Uncle Julio started with his usual cheap talk, trying to make Dante laugh. "Ah, Dante, my friend! You know, they say laughter is the key to a long life. So, let's share a joke or two, shall we?" He chuckled nervously, but Dante's face stayed as serious as ever. Dante glanced at me, and I felt his eyes lingering, but I avoided his gaze.

Antonia, on the other hand, started engaging in strange talk with Dante. "Oh, Dante, I have always imagined myself as the next mafia princess. I have these fantasies," she said, trying to sound seductive. Dante just looked at her, unmoved. "You know, being your princess, having kids, and ruling this place together," she continued, but Dante's expression didn't change.

Uncle Julio shifted uncomfortably, and I couldn't help but think this was not going the way they expected.

The servants came in, bringing with them the aroma of fancy dishes. As they set the food before us, I tried not to let my hunger show.

Antonia coughed, catching my attention. She looked at me, a silent reminder that we weren't supposed to be dining at the same table. I apologized, quickly picking up my plate to move.

But before I could take a step, Dante's voice cut through the air like a command. "Sit down." His tone was so forceful that I didn't even bother to argue. I lowered myself back into the chair, avoiding eye contact with anyone in the room.

After the last bite, Julio leaned towards Dante, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "Dante, my good friend, perhaps now is the time to make the final decision. Antonia is ready to become the perfect Mafia princess. You won't find a more suitable match for you, I assure you."

Dante, his expression unreadable, raised a hand, silencing Julio. "Stop." The single word hung heavy in the air, cutting off any further attempts for him to speak.

Then, with calm certainty, Dante announced, "I've made my decision. I will marry Elena."

Uncle Julio laughed nervously, thinking there had been a mistake. "Ah, Dante, forgive me, but you might be confused. Her name is Antonia, not Elena."

Dante looked at him, unflinching. "I know. My decision stands. I will marry Elena."

Uncle Julio, desperate to clear the misunderstanding, pointed at Antonia. "Look at her! This is Antonia, she's the picture of beauty, the ideal match for you." He praised Antonia's features—flowing golden hair, emerald eyes, a vision of elegance and grace.

Then he turned his attention to me. "And this one," he said, pointing at me, "Elena, with her dark, messy hair and odd-colored eyes. She's nothing compared to Antonia."

I felt a pang in my chest at his words, but I kept my gaze fixed on the floor. This dinner had become a nightmare, and Dante's decision felt like a cruel twist of fate.

 Shock pulsed through me as Dante declared his decision to marry me. I couldn't understand it; it felt like a twisted joke.

A low growl escaped Dante, and I sensed the anger building. In a voice laced with fury, he interrupted Uncle Julio. "I'm not stupid or blind. My choice is final. I will marry Elena, and she will be my Mafia princess. I won't marry Antonia."

Antonia argued, her voice rising. "Dante, you can't be serious! I'm the one you should marry. I've been groomed for this, born for this!"

Dante's anger escalated, and he slammed his hands on the table. "Enough! I won't let you insult me any longer. It's either Elena marries me, or there will be no marriage at all. I won't be forced into a union I don't want." The room fell silent, tension thick in the air. The decision hung, and the fate of all of us rested on the edge of Dante's command.

Uncle Julio, attempting to bring up some control, stammered, "Dante, we'll go home and talk about all of this. We'll bring you our thoughts tomorrow." His voice trembled with uncertainty.

Dante, unmoved, called his guards. "Escort them out." The guards moved in silently, leading us away from the grand dining room.

As we exited the mansion, uncertainty hung in the air. The grand gate closed behind us, leaving me with a sense of confusion.