Surrender to the don's embrace (Gio and Millie) novel Chapter 3

3
MILLIE

Mother pulled at the dress Father had picked out for the occasion, which Harper called the ‘meat show’. No matter how much she tugged, the dress remained stubbornly short. I stared at myself in the mirror, feeling uncertain. I had never worn anything so revealing before. The black dress clung to my body, accentuating my curves, and ended way above my knees. The top was a glittery golden bustier with black tulle straps. "I can't wear this, Mother," I protested.

As we looked at each other in the mirror, I noticed her elegant floor-length dress and felt envious of her modest attire. "You look like a woman," she said in a hushed tone.

My discomfort grew, and I cringed. "I look like a hooker."

Mother dismissed my concern, pointing out that the dress was expensive and that I looked stunning in it. She believed Gio, whoever he was, would appreciate my appearance. I looked down at my cleavage, feeling self-conscious about my small breasts. I was only fifteen, and I felt like I was dressed way beyond my years.

She handed me towering five-inch black heels, hoping to boost my height. I reluctantly put them on, realizing they were meant to impress someone named Gio. Mother smiled, encouraging me to hold my head high and showcase my beauty, supposedly surpassing all other women in New York. She seemed well-informed about Gio's reputation and conquests, making me wonder if Father had confided in her.

I hesitated, wanting to ask her to accompany me, but she insisted I should enter the room alone, where the men, including Gio and his entourage, were waiting. I had to be presented to Gio by my father before we all joined for dinner. This instruction had been repeated to me countless times.

Feeling a mix of fear and vulnerability, I stepped out of my room, thankful for the recent weeks of heel training. As I stood before the door to the fireplace lounge on the first floor, my heart raced in my chest. I wished Harper could be by my side, but Mother was probably keeping her in check. I had to face this on my own, without anyone stealing the spotlight from the bride-to-be.

Staring at the intimidating wooden door, I contemplated fleeing. Laughter emanated from behind it, belonging to my father and the Boss. It was a room filled with powerful and dangerous men, and I, like a lamb, was supposed to enter alone. I had to shake off such thoughts and remind myself that I had made them wait long enough.

With determination, I gripped the handle and pushed the door open. As I entered, the conversations ceased, and all eyes turned to me. Did I have to say something? Nerves took over, and I trembled, hoping no one could see my fear. My father wore a satisfied grin, while Gio's intense gaze fixed on me, leaving me frozen in place, breath held. He set down a glass with a clink, and the room fell silent. If no one spoke soon, I might consider bolting from the room. I quickly scanned the faces of the gathered men, recognizing some from New York and others from the Chicago Outfit. Among them was Tanner, whom I could see wanted to offer comfort, but he refrained, knowing my father's disapproval.

Father finally approached me, placing a hand on my back, and guided me toward the assembled men like a lamb being led to slaughter. Among the gathered group, Mathias Ruberti appeared completely disinterested; his focus was solely on his Scotch. It had been only two months since we attended the funeral of his wife, leaving him as a widower in his thirties. I might have felt sympathy for him if he didn't scare me as much as Gio did.

My father, of course, steered me directly toward my future husband, wearing a challenging expression as if he expected Gio to be in awe. However, Gio's expression was stoic, as if he were staring at an unremarkable rock. His cold, gray eyes remained fixed on my father.

"This is my daughter, Millie," my father announced.

Evidently, Gio hadn't mentioned our awkward encounter. Vernon Ruberti spoke up, "I didn't promise too much, did I?"

Embarrassment washed over me, and I wished the ground would swallow me whole. The attention I was receiving was overwhelming. Spencer, who had recently been initiated and turned eighteen, was particularly obnoxious since then. His gaze made my skin crawl.