His hand moves fast, gripping my chin and forcing me to meet his gaze. His fingers are warm against my skin, but the touch feels like a brand.
"Your debt is now three times the original amount," he tells Lorenzo without breaking eye contact with me. "Call it interest for making me come collect personally. My time and efforts are worth the extra."
"Six million?" Lorenzo's voice cracks. "That's impossible. We don't have it!"
"Then you'll find it." The stranger's thumb brushes across my lower lip, and I can't take my eyes off his. "Because if you don't, your pretty new bride becomes collateral. And I have very creative ways of liquidating assets."
The threat hangs in the air like the scent of the white roses, now heavy and suffocating. Around us, the cathedral has gone silent except for muffled sobs and the distant wail of sirens.
Help is coming, but I can see in this man's eyes that it won't matter. He'll be gone long before the police arrive, and he'll be taking me with him.
"You have forty-eight hours," he announces, finally releasing my chin. "Transfer the money to the account my associate will provide. If you're even one euro short, your bride starts her new career in my employment."
"What kind of employment?" I whisper, though every instinct screams not to draw his attention.
His smiles at me. "The kind that pays very well for very specific services."
Human trafficking.
He's talking about human trafficking, standing in a cathedral, discussing my sale like I'm livestock.
"She's innocent," Papa calls out desperately from the congregation. "She has nothing to do with this business. Take Lorenzo instead."
"Innocent?" The stranger laughs without humor. "She's about to marry into the family that stole from me. That makes her an accessory to the crime. There are no innocents in this chapel."
Two of his men move forward, flanking me. I look desperately at Lorenzo, waiting for him to do something. Fight, negotiate, promise the money. Anything.
Instead, he steps backward.
The bastard actually steps away from me, his face pale with calculation. I see the exact moment he decides I'm not worth sixmillion euros. The moment he chooses his family's money over his future wife.
The man holding me lifts an eyebrow at him.
"Take her," Lorenzo says quietly.
My own husband-to-be, the man who was supposed to protect and cherish me, just handed me over to criminals like I'm a business expense on a ledger he can write off.
"No! Lorenzo!" I scream his name, but he won't meet my eyes.
"Interesting," the stranger murmurs. "He’s learning how to prioritize."
Strong hands grip my arms, lifting me off my feet when my legs refuse to support me. The cathedral spins around me as they carry me toward the shattered doors, past the wreckage of my wedding, past the guests who watch in horrified silence.
"Forty-eight hours, Rossi," the stranger calls over his shoulder as we reach the entrance. "And remember, if you try to involve the police, if you try to track us, if you even think about being clever... the price doubles."
The last thing I see before they push me into a waiting SUV is Papa's anguished face and Lorenzo's pale cowardice.
And the last thing I hear is the stranger's voice, soft and deadly. "Welcome to your new life, principessa."
The doors slam shut, the engine roars to life, and my old world disappears behind tinted glass and the sound of my own terrified breathing.
Whatever happens next, I know with absolute certainty that the girl who walked down that aisle is already dead.
The woman they've taken in her place is someone else entirely.
Someone who now belongs to the man with dark eyes and darker intentions.
Chapter 4: Renato
