"You used the wine cellar story on him?" Rachel doubled over, laughing as she helped a group of kids stack donated books on a low shelf. "Elina, that one's legendary. I thought you were saving it for a true emergency."
Elina leaned against the doorway with a smug smile, arms folded. "It was a true emergency. His eyes screamed 'tradition' and 'honour.' I had to escalate."
"Poor man," Jaxon muttered, shaking his head as he passed by with a crate of canned food. "Bet he didn't make it past the appetizers."
"He didn't," Elina said proudly. "He looked like he wanted to bless me with holy water."
Rachel snorted. "You're going to hell."
"Already booked my suite."
The three of them laughed, the kind of laughter that made the walls feel warmer. The kids played in the background, giggling and racing around with toy blocks.
But as the moment stretched, Elina's smile slowly faded.
Rachel caught it immediately. "Hey... you okay?"
Elina blinked and forced a light chuckle. "Yeah. Just tired."
"You're lying," Jaxon called from the other end of the room. "You do that thing where you blink too slow. That's your I'm-spiralling-inside-but-smiling-outside face."
Elina rolled her eyes. "I do not have a spiralling face."
Rachel raised a brow. "Then what's eating you?"
Elina hesitated. She walked over to the edge of the table, dragging her fingers along its scratched surface. "It's just... it's been a week."
"A week since what?" Rachel asked, then paused. Her face lit up. "Wait, you mean Adrian Blackwood?"
Elina nodded grimly.
"No rejection letter yet?" Jaxon said.
She shook her head. "Nothing. Not a call, not a note. Just... radio silence. It's weird, right? All the others bailed within twenty-four hours. The dramatic kind even within twelve."
Rachel's smile faded slightly. "Hmm. That is strange."
"I made a complete fool of myself," Elina muttered. "I wore that horrific outfit, told him I once locked my cousin in a wine cellar—"
Rachel leaned in, eyes glinting. "Okay, but what if he wasn't turned off? What if he liked your madness?"
Elina snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. No one in their right mind would like that madness."
"Right," Jaxon chimed in. "Because dangerous mafia leaders are famously known for their impeccable taste in well-behaved women."
Rachel grinned. "Elina, what if you finally met your match?"
Elina stared at them, horrified. "That's not funny."
"No, it's hilarious," Jaxon said. "But also—low-key terrifying."
She groaned and dropped her head on the table. "Why hasn't he sent the rejection yet? He has to send it. I need the letter. It's the end-of-madness certificate."
Rachel patted her back sympathetically. "Or maybe he's just busy plotting something."
Elina sat up straight. "That's not helping."
"Sorry," Rachel said with a smirk. "But come on, the man had steel eyes and a mafia resume. You really think he's going to respond like a normal suitor?"
"I don't know," Elina admitted. "I just... I want this to be over."
Rachel and Jaxon exchanged a glance but said nothing.
The air shifted slightly. The laughter lingered, but beneath it was a hum of tension none of them voiced aloud.
Because silence from a man like Adrian Blackwood wasn't just unsettling. It was a warning.
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Then one night, just as she was beginning to feel the tension in her shoulders ease, a sharp knock echoed against her bedroom door. "Elina, come downstairs. Now." Her father's voice was rough, his tone carrying an urgency that sent a chill down her spine.
When she reached the grand sitting area, her parents were both there, their expressions tense. Her father's eyes blazed with a strange mix of triumph and calculation.
"It's done," he said, his words clipped. "You will marry Adrian Blackwood."
The words echoed like a gunshot. Elina stared at them, uncomprehending for a moment. "What?"
"Mr. Blackwood has accepted the proposal," her mother said with a gleam of delight. "You should be grateful, Elina. This union will secure our family's future."
Her disbelief quickly turned to anger. "Grateful? You think I should be grateful you're trading me off like some pawn?"
Her father's gaze hardened. "You've tested our patience enough. Adrian Blackwood is willing to marry you despite your childish antics. You should consider yourself lucky."
"No." Her voice trembled—less from fear, more from fury. "I won't marry him. He's—he's insane."
"Enough!" Antonio Castellano's voice boomed through the room like a gunshot. The heavy silence that followed was suffocating. "This is not up for debate. You will marry him, and you will do it without complaint."
Elina felt the floor tilt beneath her feet. Her fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms. Rage churned with disbelief in her chest, but beneath it all was something colder. Deeper. A terrifying stillness that settled behind her ribs.
She didn't speak again. Didn't argue. Didn't cry. Instead, she turned on her heel, her legs moving before her brain could catch up.
"Elina!" her mother snapped, rising from the sofa. "You will not walk away from this conversation!"
But Elina didn't stop.
"Elina Castellano, don't you dare!" Isabella's voice rang out, sharp and furious, but it only fueled the fire burning inside her daughter.
Her heels cracked against the marble like gunshots, sharp and defiant as she stormed through the corridors, chest heaving, and pulse a war drum in her ears.
She reached her room, slammed the door behind her, and locked it with a force that seemed to echo through the silence. Without a second thought, she threw herself onto the bed, burying her face in the pillows, her body wracked with sobs.
The weight of everything crashed down at once, and Elina finally gave in. Tears spilled fast, hot, unstoppable. She buried her face in the pillows, her body shaking with sobs she could no longer hold back. For the first time, she felt it—defeat. Not just anger or grief, but a hollow, helpless despair. She cried for everything she had lost, and for the life she never got to choose.
________________________________________
Elina curled up on her bed, the weight of her parents' betrayal pressing down like a boulder on her chest. Her body shook with every breath, the tears refusing to stop. The room felt too big, too silent—too empty. In a haze of panic and rage, she grabbed her phone and dialled.
Rachel answered almost instantly. "Elina?"
Elina tried to speak, but all that came out was a shaky breath.
"Hey—hey, what's wrong?" Rachel's voice sharpened with concern.
"He said yes," Elina whispered, her voice hoarse. "Adrian Blackwood said yes to marrying me."
There was a beat of stunned silence.
"You're kidding," Rachel said flatly.
"I wish I was." Elina's laugh was hollow. "I pushed every button, said all the wrong things. I was unbearable on purpose. And he still said yes. Like it was nothing."
"Okay," Rachel said slowly. "Breathe. This is… horrible, yes, but we're not going to panic. Yet."
"I don't know what to do," Elina whispered. "I feel like I'm drowning, Rachel. My parents just stood there like they'd won a prize. I told them I wouldn't do it. And they didn't care."
"Elina," Rachel said firmly, "listen to me. They might've made plans behind your back. But that doesn't mean you don't have a say. You're not helpless."
"That's exactly how I feel," she admitted. "Like they've already locked the door and thrown away the key."
"Then go find the key," Rachel snapped. "Confront him. You don't need to cry in your room while he sits somewhere smug and silent. Go to him. Ask him what the hell he's playing at."
Elina closed her eyes, another tear sliding down her cheek. "You think I can face him?"
"I know you can," Rachel said. "You're Elina freaking Castellano. Don't let them corner you, Elina. Don't let him corner you. If they want a war, they've chosen the wrong general."
Elina stared at the ceiling, heart pounding, something new forming in her chest—an ember. Maybe not strength yet, but defiance.
"Okay," she whispered. "I'm not waiting anymore. He wants a fight? He'll get one."
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