Page 16 of Sinful Bride

The words hit like a slap. "Irrelevant."

"Yes." Alessio's expression doesn't soften. "You have a duty to this family, Elena. You've always had that duty. And now our father is calling on you to fulfill it. You don't get to refuse. You don't get to complain. You do what you're told, and you do it with grace and dignity, because that's what being a Capetti means."

My hands clench into fists at my sides. "I've always done what I'm told. I've been the perfect daughter. I've never questioned, never rebelled, never caused problems. And this is what I get? To be handed over to a stranger like a piece of property?"

"You're not property." Alessio's voice is cold. "You're an asset."

"Is there a difference?" The question comes out bitter. "Because it feels exactly the same."

"Then you're not thinking about this correctly." Alessio steps closer, his presence imposing. He's taller than me, broader, and right now he's using every inch of that size to remind me of the hierarchy between us. "You're a Capetti. That comes with privileges and responsibilities. You've enjoyed the privileges your entire life—the wealth, the security, the status. Now it's time to accept the responsibilities."

"I've always accepted them⁠—"

"Then accept this." His voice drops to something harder. "You will marry Declan Murphy. You will be a good wife to him. You will represent this family with honor and dignity. And you will stop acting like a spoiled child who didn't get her way."

The words sting more than they should. Because part of me knows he's right. I have enjoyed the privileges of being a Capetti. I've lived in luxury my entire life, never wanting for anything, protected and provided for in ways most people can only dream of. But I've also lived in a cage. A beautiful, gilded cage, but a cage nonetheless.

"I'm not a child," I say quietly. "I'm a woman who's just realized she has no control over her own life."

"None of us have control," Alessio says. "We all serve the family. We all do what's required of us. That's how this works, Elena. That's how it's always worked."

He's not wrong. But that doesn't make it easier to accept. "What if I refuse?" The question is barely a whisper.

Alessio's expression doesn't change. "You won't."

"But what if I did?"

"Then Father would make your life very difficult." Alessio's tone is matter-of-fact. "He'd cut off your access to money. He'd restrict your movements. He'd make it clear that disobedience has consequences. And eventually, you'd comply anyway, because you'd have no other choice."

The casual way he says it makes my stomach turn. "That's imprisonment."

"It's called discipline." Alessio shrugs. "You're part of this family, Elena. You don't get to just walk away because you don't like a decision. None of us do."

I stare at him, this man who's supposed to be my brother, who's supposed to care about me. But all I see is a soldier following orders, enforcing the family's will without question or compassion. "I thought you'd understand," I say softly.

"I do understand." Alessio's voice gentles slightly. "I understand that this is hard for you. I understand that it's not what you wanted. But understanding doesn't change anything. You still have to do it."

"Because Papa says so."

"Because the family needs you to." He reaches out, putting a hand on my shoulder. The gesture is probably meant to be comforting, but it feels like a weight. "This is bigger than you, Elena. Bigger than your feelings or your preferences. This marriage creates an alliance that could prevent a war. It protects our family, our business, our future. Your personal happiness is secondary to that."

Secondary. Not unimportant… just less important than everything else. The hierarchy is clear. The family comes first. Always.

"I've always put the family first," I say, my voice barely audible.

"Then keep doing it." Alessio squeezes my shoulder once before dropping his hand. "You'll marry Declan Murphy next Saturday. You'll be a good wife to him. And you'll do it without complaint, because that's what's expected of you."

He turns to walk away, then pauses. "And Elena, put on a coat. You're going to catch a cold out here."

Then he's gone, his footsteps fading as he walks back toward the house. I stand there in the garden, shivering in the cold, staring at the fountain. The water keeps flowing, constant and unchanging, no matter what happens around it.

I wish I could be like that. Constant. Unchanging. Unaffected by the chaos swirling through my life.

But I'm not. I'm drowning in it.

5

DECLAN