Fated to the Enemy.

| 9 | Escape.

I usually find solace whenever I paint.

I consider my art room is my sanctuary, a place where I could simply escape, and be surrounded by vibrant hues that breathe life into my canvases. With each stroke of my brush, I lose myself in a manifestation of my own thoughts and colours, momentarily detached from reality.

That's all art has ever been for me, my escape, my way to forget, even for just a second...

I stand in front of an A3 canvas, roughly painting onto each with a series of powerful strokes and swings, covering the canvas with black and white paint. I don't quite know what I'm painting yet, all I know is I want to take my frustration out onto this canvas...

"Isabella? Isabella, are you in here?" I soon hear my mother's voice interrupt my concentration, making me pause as I stare back at my canvas momentarily, before turning and glancing towards her. I hadn't even noticed when she had entered the room...

"Yes, Mother," I reply, my gaze still fixed on her on a moment, just before I turn back to my painting, placing the large brush in my hand down and now deciding to use my fingers to finish the piece.

I hear my mother enter the room, and soon my line of vision as well. Her eyes widen at the sight before her, and too be honest I can't really blame her. Splatters of paint cover my overalls, my hair haphazardly tied in a bun and I know I look completely unpresentable... considering the dinner with the Verossi family is actually supposed to be happening in a few hours...

"Isabella, dear Lord, what are you doing here? We've been looking for you." She tells me as she shakes her head at me, glancing between me and the canvas that currently has my attention.

I finally tear my gaze away from the canvas to meet her concerned eyes. "I'm painting," I say simply and I know it's something she won't appreciate at all...

"Yes, I can see that," My mother replies and I watch as she continues to eye me with surprise.

"Look at you, you're a mess." She tells me in a desperate attempt to grab my attention, and unfortunately it works. I know how worried she is, so I might as well give her my full attention.

I pause my painting and turn my body to face her, sighing softly as I keep my hands at my sides.

"Guess I just lost track of time." I shrug it off but the reality is, I've been perfectly aware of the time. At the back of my mind, I've been hoping that my father somehow cancels the meeting with the Verossi family. Though Angelo had made me feel comfortable this far, that doesn't change the way I feel about this whole thing.

I can not marry a stranger.

And no matter how charming he may seem, I'll never forgot what his family has put us throug...

My mother's expression softens as she steps closer. "Isabella, you know we have an important dinner tonight. Your stylists have been waiting for you for 30 minutes. You need to start getting ready. The dinner is in 2 hours, and you know we cannot afford to be late." My mother reminds me and I exhale once again, knowing how important this is for her. I don't want to disappoint her and from the beginning, I agreed to do what both my parents ask of me, just to keep the peace...

My smile fades, frustration washing over me as I pick up a cloth and wipe my paint-splattered hands on it.

"I'll be there, Mother," I mutter, my reluctance clear as day as I instead try to focus on getting my hands clean with the cloth.

"Isabella, you've been distant all day. This dinner is significant for both our families, and I need you to present yourself appropriately." She lets out as she steps closer to me, making sure she enters my line of vision. It forces me to look back at her and exhale softly, realising that I have to give her an explanation as to why I've been avoiding her and everyone else in the house.

"I don't want to go, Ma..." My voice trembles unexpectedly and it makes her expression soften, her eyebrows creases as she soon places her hands on my shoulders, hoping she will be able to provide me with some comfort.

"My love, I thought we had an understanding," her gentle voice lets out and I take a deep breath, letting it out me at ease, but still, it isn't enough.

I slump my shoulders, glancing at the floor. "I know, it's just... I just hate that this is starting to feel more like a nightmare than my reality." I admit.

"Isabella, I know this isn't easy. But remember, we're doing this for the family." She tells me and it doesn't make me feel any better, but I know she is only trying to lift my spirits, so I want to do right by her.

"Do you think I can trust Angelo? He seems much... different... from his father." I admit to my mother and she exhales softly as she stares back at me, a frown resting in her brows, and from the looks of it, she doesn't seem at all convinced about the question I've just brought up.

Her gaze meets mine, understanding passing between us. "I think only time will be able to tell if Angelo is different from his father... but I hope and pray that he is nothing like him. Did Angelo say anything to you? Was he rude to you?"

I shake my head, my gaze distant. "No, it wasn't him... he was actually very polite. But... what if it's all just an act?"

My mother's expression softens, her voice soothing. "My dear, I understand your fears. But you mustn't let them consume you. We will do everything to protect you. And if the Verossi were to even harm a single hair on your head, your father and I would descend upon them without hesitation." Her voice is firm and protective as she soon places her hands in my face and looks at me seriously.

"Okay," I answer her as tears glisten in my eyes and I nod.

"Come now, you must start getting ready," she says, nudging me towards the door. "Let's get you cleaned up and dressed. The dinner is in a few hours, and we can't afford to be late."

I nod in response then turn to my painting, places the cloth I was holding near my table full of supplies and stepping back to stare at the canvas. My gaze lingers it, and my mother soon notices what has my attention as is preventing me from leaving just yet...

"What were you working on?" My mother's curiosity prompts her question.

"I don't know yet. It's an experimental piece." I answer her and the more I stare at it, the more I begin to realise what I had been painting...

Through the black and grey slashes is a male face subtly hidden amidst the mix of colours and confusion...

His face...

"It looks intriguing so far," she remarks, admiration in her voice and it snaps me out it of it and makes me turn back to look at her.

"Thank you..." I mumble but my mind is still stuck on the fact that I had been painting Angelo without even realising it...

"Come now," she urges, leading me out of the art room... just as I gaze lingers on the canvas one more time, before I'm hauled out of the room by my mother.

. . . . .

We arrive at the Verossi residence, driving through the large black gates with only two vehicles. We are to show the Verossies that we trust them, and so my father figured it would probably be a good idea not to show up with all our muscle. We don't need to show them how much power we have; they we've got it.

I glance down at my dress, making sure I at least look presentable for the night. The fabric of my dress is shiffon and much lighter than what I wore yesterday, this dress being much more lightweight. For shoes I'm wearing flats once again to maximise my comfortability, while my hair is styled with a claw into a loose updo, with various strands of her falling on the sides of my face. My makeup is minimal compared to yesterday and I settled on going for a more natural, glossy look.

I stare out the window as we drive into the the Verossi Manor and can't help but admire the scenery belonging to our most dangerous adversary.

Tall pillars stand at the entrance of the mansion, and a series of marble steps lead up to the large double doors and the from of the mansion. We soon park right at the front of the mansion and step outside, being met with the crisp evening air, carrying the scent of freshly trimmed hedges and blooming flowers.

Our bodyguards, my father, mother, uncles Marino and Sal, Cat, Alessio and I, all approach the entrance of the mansion, where we would already find 2 people standing and waiting for us.

Vittoria and Vince Moretti, the Consigliera and Capo of the Verossi family...

Vittoria stands tall and elegant, her dark hair cascading in waves down her back. She wears a sleek black dress, accentuated with silver jewelry that glimmers in the white lights surround the entrance of the mansion. Vince, her husband, stands tall beside with her, confindence and reservation written on his face, dress in a tailored suit, one that matched his wife next to him.

As we approach, I watch as Vittoria smiles warmly at us and to be honest, I've always thought she was terrifying, and so I did not expect such a welcoming smile...

"Welcome to the Verossi residence..." Vittoria greets us, her voice deep and smooth, and I can almost immediately tell that she has a distinct Sicilian accent.

"Thank you... Vittoria, Vince..." My father returns the greeting, as he stands ahead of us with my mother at his side.

"How are the both of you?" My father inquires, his tone cordial as he exchanges pleasantries with the Moretties.

"As well as we can be, Don Romano..." Vince replies on behalf of both of them, his accent being more 2nd generation Italian-American compared to his wife.

"Right this way..." Vince then gestures towards the entrance, leading us inside with a graceful sweep of his hand...

I take in a deep breath and glance at Alessio and Cat beside me, their combined presence putting me at ease, but still...

I have no idea what to expect tonight...