3. Contract Marriage
As he approached, his gaze was unreadable. Amelia instinctively stepped back, but his strong arms quickly pulled her close. Without warning, Luca kissed her. The kiss was deep, forceful, as though he wanted to claim every part of her.
Amelia’s heart raced, her body stiff with shock. She felt trapped, unable to resist. Her desire to push him away was overpowered by an overwhelming fear.
Gathering all her strength, Amelia finally broke free. She pushed Luca back and stammered, “Please, Luca!” Her voice was hoarse with anxiety. “Please, don’t touch me. I’m just a widow. There’s nothing about me that would interest you.”
“You’re rejecting me?” Luca’s expression darkened with offense.
“No, not like that!" You’re a handsome man, a boss. " I’m just a lowly widow. " It wouldn’t benefit you to touch someone like me,” Amelia pleaded, her voice full of sincerity, her eyes brimming with fear.
“Just say you’re afraid of me, that you don’t want me to touch you!” Luca snapped, his tone icy. “I told you, for one year, you’ll do as I say!”
“I can cook for you,” Amelia offered desperately. I promise I’ll make you delicious meals every day, as long as you don’t touch me. Please, don’t force me.”
Luca fell silent, his gaze piercing in the oppressive quiet. Amelia felt like a caged bird, trapped in the suffocating stillness.
Finally, Luca nodded slightly. “Fine,” he said in a low, cold voice. “I won’t touch you." But remember, you’re my wife. You’ll stay here and never think of running away!”
“Yes, I promise. " I’ll cook delicious meals for you! " Tonight, if you’d like,” Amelia replied quickly.
“There’s no need. " I’m not hungry,” Luca said curtly, his frustration evident.
Luca, the mafia boss, left Amelia alone in the master bedroom, choosing instead to disappear to an unknown destination.
The Next Morning
Amelia woke up earlier than usual. The morning sun was just beginning to peek through the large windows of the guest room prepared for her. Her mind had been restless since the previous night, but she knew she had to fulfill the promise she made to Luca. Her cooking had to be flawless—it was the only way to avoid an even more tense situation.
After washing her face and tying up her hair, Amelia made her way to the kitchen. The space was enormous and luxurious, filled with appliances she had never imagined using before. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, she felt like a professional chef. On the counter, she noticed a neatly folded white apron, which she promptly tied around her waist before getting to work.
"Alright, Amelia. " Let’s cook the best meal today," she muttered to herself for encouragement.
She decided on Coq au Vin, a classic French dish that required careful attention, Ratatouille for the vegetables, and Crème Brûlée for dessert. Determined, Amelia began chopping onions, carrots, and herbs, the rhythmic sound of her knife hitting the cutting board creating a little symphony in the kitchen.
As the aroma of chicken simmering in red wine wafted through the air, the kitchen door opened quietly. Luca stood there, dressed casually in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His gaze was as sharp as ever, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes.
“You’re up early,” he said in his usual flat tone, leaning against the doorframe as he observed Amelia bustling about the kitchen.
Amelia nearly dropped the wooden spoon in her hand. “Ah! Mr. Devereaux, you startled me!”
Luca raised an eyebrow. “I thought I would tell you to call me Luca. So, what are you cooking?”
“Uh..." Coq au Vin, Ratatouille, and Crème Brûlée for dessert,” Amelia replied nervously, stirring the sauce in the pan.
Luca stepped closer, taking in the enticing aroma. “Hmm, I didn’t expect you to cook something so fancy. I thought you’d stick to simple home-cooked meals.”
“Well, I’ve learned from cookbooks and cooking shows,” Amelia admitted with a small smile, trying to maintain composure despite feeling the tension in the air.
When everything was ready, Amelia served the dishes in the dining room. Luca was already seated in one of the chairs, his posture relaxed but still exuding an intimidating aura. Amelia watched nervously as he picked up his fork and took a bite of the Coq au Vin.
Silence.
Amelia bit her lip, anxiously awaiting his reaction. But Luca said nothing. He continued eating, his expression unreadable.
“How is it? " Does it not taste good?” Amelia finally asked, unable to bear the silence.
Luca set down his fork and looked at her. “It’s decent, edible.”
Amelia nearly fell off her chair in shock. “Does that mean it’s bad? I can make something else if you don’t like it.”
“There’s no need. " I’m full. " This is more than enough, though it doesn’t make up for your debt at the casino,” Luca said with a smirk, referencing her enormous debt.
Amelia swallowed hard, worry flooding her mind. Yet, the man in front of her continued eating, finishing every dish she had prepared without leaving a single bite.
As she watched closely, Amelia began to realize that Luca actually liked her cooking. Her eyes, observing him intently, accidentally met his. They locked their gazes, and Luca put down his spoon.
“You’re beautiful,” he remarked.
Amelia froze, unsure how to respond. She felt an urge to mess up her hair and appear disheveled, hoping the dangerous man in front of her wouldn’t devour her whole.
“Thank you,” she replied hesitantly.
“So, you’re a widow? " Why did you get divorced?” Luca asked abruptly.
“He cheated,” Amelia answered curtly.
“So that’s why you call yourself an unattractive widow? " Ridiculous!” Luca scoffed, sipping the warm drink she had served.
“I’m just an ordinary woman. There’s nothing special about me.”
“I’ll bet you this—if I dressed you up and put you in the right make-up, you could earn $1,000 a night at my club. "I never misjudge a woman’s appeal,” Luca said with a sly grin.
“No! Please don’t do that to me, sir. "I'd agreed to be your wife. " Don’t sell me at the club—I’ll cook, I’ll clean your house. " Please, don’t talk like that! " I know you’re a wise man,” Amelia pleaded desperately.
“Wise? I’m a mafia. What wisdom could you possibly expect from a man like me? " You’re unbelievably naive,” Luca replied.
The man wiped his lips and then stood, moving closer to Amelia. Once again, his large hand gripped her waist, pulling her body firmly into his embrace.
“You’re my wife. " Serve me!” he demanded, his sharp gaze fixed on Amelia.
“Please, sir, don’t! I’ll sweep and clean your house until it shines to pay off my debt. Just please don’t touch me!”
“Why not? " Am I not handsome enough? " Am I not attractive to you?” Luca asked, his voice laced with challenge.
“You’re handsome, incredibly attractive. I’m the one who isn’t worthy of you, sir!”
“Liar! Just admit it—you’re not interested in me. Or are you still in love with that cheating ex-husband of yours? Be honest, Amelia!”
“No, I hate him. " I don’t love him at all,” Amelia replied firmly.
“Then why won’t you spend time with me? " Aren’t I attractive and handsome?” Luca pressed, his tone demanding.
“I won’t engage in a relationship without love. " Please, don’t touch me, Luca!” Amelia begged, her eyes brimming with tears. The young woman was visibly frightened and overwhelmed.
Luca’s expression darkened with frustration. He released her from his grasp, his anger bubbling to the surface.
“Love? You’re talking about love after a man divorced you? Nonsense! " You’re not just naive, you’re downright foolish!” Luca spat before storming out of the room, leaving her behind once again.