The Dominant Heir

Marriage Agreement

The First Master was old, just as Enzo had expected.

But weak?

Not even close.

The elderly man sat upright in a large carved chair near the center of the room, his posture straighter than most men half his age. Fine wrinkles lined parts of his face and forearms, but they did little to soften the sharpness in his expression.

There was still strength in him.

The kind built over decades of authority, bloodshed, and absolute control.

Even seated, he carried the presence of someone who could still put a grown man on the ground if necessary.

The room itself was enormous, decorated in dark wood and expensive antique pieces that radiated old money and tradition. The air smelled faintly of cigar smoke and polished leather.

For anyone else entering the First Master’s private chambers, strict rules applied.

You bowed immediately.

You kept your head lowered.

You did not look directly at him unless granted permission.

But of course, none of those rules applied to Enzo.

His dark eyes swept lazily over the older man for only a second before drifting elsewhere.

Then he froze.

His gaze slid toward the right side of the room—

—and landed directly on her.

The same woman who had ruined his peaceful morning.

The same woman who had falsely accused him of rape, insulted his clothes, threatened his life, and kicked him out of his own hotel room.

“You?”

The word left both of them at the same time.

Laura shot to her feet so quickly her chair nearly tipped backward. Her eyes widened in disbelief, outrage instantly flooding her expression.

“You!”

Enzo stared at her for a second longer before his eyes narrowed slightly in realization.

Judging from how comfortably she sat beside the First Master, she was obviously part of the family.

A granddaughter perhaps.

Maybe even the favorite one.

He didn’t particularly care either way, as long as she wasn’t the woman he had been arranged to marry.

“Can you excuse us?” he asked lazily, glancing at her with visible annoyance. “Your grandfather and I have serious business to discuss.”

The last thing he wanted was another argument with this woman.

Laura looked absolutely outraged.

“How dare you speak to me that way in my own home?” she hissed furiously.

Then realization suddenly crossed her face.

Her expression twisted with disgust.

“You know, you really have the nerves,” she snapped. “After everything I said to you, you still followed me here like some stray street dog.”

Enzo sighed internally.

Here we go again.

“Don’t tell me,” she continued mockingly, “you came here to demand money from Gramps? Because your kind of people don’t—”

SMACK.

The sound echoed sharply across the room.

Laura’s head snapped slightly to the side from the force of the slap.

Silence instantly followed.

Even Enzo blinked once in surprise.

The First Master slowly lowered his hand, his face thunderous.

When he spoke, his voice was far deeper and harsher than Enzo expected from a man his age. “How dare you speak that way to your husband?”

The authority in his tone was absolute.

“If you know what’s good for you,” he continued coldly, “you will go down on your knees and beg for forgiveness immediately.”

Laura stared at him in complete shock, one hand slowly rising to her burning cheek.

“Gramps…” her voice cracked slightly with disbelief. “You slapped me.”

Enzo watched the scene silently.

Clearly, this wasn’t normal.

Laura looked genuinely shaken— not because of the pain, but because the man had actually raised his hand against her at all.

She had probably watched him discipline countless family members growing up. Probably even her parents. But never herself.

Until now.

And for him of all people.

For the “poor nobody” she had mocked all morning.

Humiliation burned visibly in her eyes.

Still, despite everything, Enzo could already tell she would rather die than kneel and apologize to him.

The First Master’s expression darkened further.

“Are you deaf?!”

He looked ready to strike her again when Enzo finally spoke up.

“It’s alright,” he said calmly. “I’ve already witnessed firsthand that my fiancée can be quite…”

His lips twitched faintly.

“…feisty.”

Truthfully, he was enjoying this far more than he should have.

But at the same time, he wanted to finish the marriage discussion quickly and get everything over with.

The older man immediately turned toward him, his anger softening slightly.

“Of course.”

“I would like a word with you privately first, though.”

“Certainly.” Then the First Master turned sharply toward Laura. “Leave now,” he ordered. “And return with your parents within the next ten minutes.”

“Oh,” Enzo cut in casually as he walked deeper into the room, “just five minutes will do.”

Laura looked like she wanted to argue but one hard glare from her grandfather killed the words instantly.

Furious, she spun around and stormed out of the room.

The moment the doors closed behind her, the atmosphere changed completely.

The First Master immediately rose from his seat and gave a respectful bow. “I am honored to be in the presence of the Marchese.”

As much as Enzo enjoyed being respected, moments like this exhausted him.

“First Master,” he replied formally.

As the Marchese, he wasn’t permitted to speak casually with others. Likewise, no one else could address him informally without permission.

Titles. Etiquette. Protocol.

A lifetime of rules.

“…if it’s alright with you,” Enzo continued, “I would like to keep my status hidden.”

The older man looked genuinely confused for a second.

Still, he bowed immediately. “Of course.”

He hesitated briefly before speaking again.

“…but why? If I may be bold enough to ask.”

Why?

The answer was simple.

This marriage was the perfect opportunity for freedom.

Under alliance marriage traditions between major families, the husband was required to live within the wife’s territory for the first six months after marriage.

It was meant to “test compatibility” between the couple before the union became permanent. After six months, a family meeting would be held and the couple would have to decide whether the marriage continued or ended.

For Enzo, however, those six months meant something else entirely.

Freedom from the De Luca estate.

Freedom from constant surveillance.

Freedom to complete his mission while pretending to live an ordinary life.

And maybe —just maybe —experience what normal people called peace.

“Well,” he said smoothly, “let’s just say I want to test my fiancée.”

His eyes flicked briefly toward the door Laura had exited through.

“As you can see, she can barely stand the sight of me. I wouldn’t want a marriage based solely on my status.”

It was a lie.

A very convenient lie.

But the older man nodded thoughtfully anyway.

“Of course. I understand.”

“Good.”

Less than a minute later, the doors opened again.

Laura returned alongside two older figures Enzo immediately assumed were her parents.

The resemblance made it obvious.

The woman marched in first, already furious before she even fully entered the room.

“What is this I’m hearing, Father?” she demanded sharply. “The boy is merely a messenger from the De Luca family, and yet you slapped my daughter for him?”

The First Master instinctively glanced toward Enzo, silently asking whether he should react.

Enzo almost found it funny.

“I understand this arrangement may upset you,” Enzo said smoothly, stepping closer to Laura’s mother, “but unfortunately there’s nothing to be done.”

His tone remained calm, but the pressure behind his words was unmistakable.

“Your daughter will be married to me immediately.”

He paused slightly before adding, “Unless, of course, your family wishes to oppose the De Luca family directly?”

The woman visibly swallowed.

Fear flashed briefly across her face.

Everyone in Italy knew better than to challenge the De Lucas.

It wasn’t bravery.

It was suicide.

Laura immediately began protesting again, but her complaints changed nothing.

Within minutes, documents were brought into the room.

The temporary marriage agreement.

The atmosphere became tense as signatures were added one after another.

Laura practically looked like she wanted to stab someone.

Enzo, meanwhile, signed calmly without hesitation.

And just like that, the marriage was official.

Temporary.

But official nonetheless.

Enzo picked up his copy of the certificate before glancing lazily toward Laura.

“So, wife,” he drawled casually, “I look forward to spending the next six months with you.”

Truthfully, he meant none of it.

If anything, he would much rather be back in England, hidden inside his underground man cave, avoiding humanity entirely.

Laura snatched her copy from the table with pure hatred written across her face. “Choke on air, asshole.”

Then she stormed out of the room without looking back.