Chains of Gold

His to Break

Chapter 1: Chains of Gold

The wedding dress was heavy—too heavy for someone walking into a graveyard.

Rose Valenti stood in front of the grand mirror, the satin fabric clinging to her like a second skin. Her veil, laced with tiny pearls, shimmered under the golden lights of the bridal suite. Her mother’s hands fluttered over her shoulders, adjusting the gown’s neckline like this was a celebration.

It wasn’t.

It was a transaction. A sacrifice.

And she was the offering.

“You look beautiful,” her mother whispered, voice trembling as if she believed the lie.

Rose didn’t respond. Her lips were painted a soft rosewood pink, her hair curled into delicate waves, her face made to look like a doll’s. But her eyes—her eyes were hollow.

In less than an hour, she would become the wife of Damian Moretti, the most feared man in the eastern syndicate. A man whose hands were soaked in blood and whose eyes looked through people like they were tools to be used—or discarded.

She had never spoken more than ten words to him.

He didn’t need words. He had power. Fear. Silence.

And now, her.

The cathedral bells echoed across the estate. It was time.

The ceremony was a blur—golden candlelight, murmured vows, a priest who didn’t dare look Damian in the eyes. When the moment came to speak, Rose opened her mouth and whispered the words like they burned her tongue.

“I do.”

Damian didn’t flinch. His dark suit hugged his tall frame like it was stitched to his skin. He said the same two words with bored finality—as if he were sealing a business deal, not claiming a bride.

He didn’t kiss her.

The car ride back to the Moretti estate was silent.

The man beside her radiated danger. Damian leaned back against the leather seats, one hand resting casually on his thigh, the other holding a tumbler of scotch. He hadn’t said a word since they walked out of the church.

Rose stared at her wedding ring—platinum, flawless, cold.

“So this is it?” she finally asked, her voice a whisper against the hum of the engine. “We just pretend this is normal?”

His eyes slid to hers—dark, cold, unreadable.

“You’re mine now. That’s all that matters.”

The estate was massive, but felt like a mausoleum. Rose was escorted to a grand bedroom—hers, apparently. Damian wouldn’t be joining her.

Not tonight. Not for many nights to come.

She stood in the center of the room, staring out at the moonlit garden, hands trembling at her sides. Somewhere behind her, the door shut with a dull finality.

No one had to lock it.

She already knew she couldn’t leave.

Rose Valenti Moretti. A name forged in blood and silence.

She had just married a man who hadn’t touched her, hadn’t smiled at her, hadn’t even acknowledged her as more than property.

And still, he owned her.

Body. Name. Future.

She closed her eyes and exhaled.

One day, she promised herself, I will leave this place.

But for now, she would survive.

End of Chapter 1

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