CRUELLA: The Mafia Princess

ebratory music, a carefully curated playlist des

d scattering the light, glittered like captur

heir way up the long, winding driveway to the Ventura villa. Each car deposited elega

rculated through the crowd, offering trays laden w

t of expensive perfume and the

le, Roselle Ruella Ventura watched the scene unfold with a growing sense of dread

ew were waiting for her upstairs. The tight jeans and worn rubber shoes were chosen for practicali

s and makeup artists, being transformed into a debutante princess

she whispered, her breath misting

and the shadows that danced around the guardhouse. Every rustle of leaves, every d

d by, each on

der of the life she was trying to escape. Finally, with a groan

and opaque, and a powerful Land Rover, its polished surface reflecting the lights

he had only a few moments before the Don and his security detail made their way

birthday. A milestone, a turning point.

wealth and power, a figure whispered about in hushed tones. He was known for his ruthlessness,

er, a way for Don Antonio to solidify his position in the city's elite circles. Others whispered that it was a more per

ear the thought of being trapped, of having her life dictated by her fat

ou all shot!" Don Antonio's voice boomed across th

y a carefully constructed mask of composure, was contorted with rage. He strode towards the guardh

rushed towards him. Roselle was missing. They had searched the house, the gardens, everywhere. Sh

on's security team. They were professionals, trained to anticipate and neutralize any thr

ce raw with terror. She kicked and st

that threatened to drown her. She knew what awaited her. She had defied her fa

voice laced with a hint of something that sounded almost lik

face a mask of fury. He d

and sharp, each word like a shard of ice. He turned and walked

spine. Her blood ran cold. The color drained from her face, leaving her pale

a curt flick of his wrist. The heavy oak door closed behind

stammered, her voice t

lver lighter, flicking it open. The flame flared, illuminating his face for a fleeting moment, then die

punished for your escape attempt this time? You know escaping from me doesn't hurt you physically, but it does hurt t

through her mind. The consequences had been brutal. The bodyguards who had failed to stop her

se, leave them alone..." Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the remnants

snapped, his voice hard. "You know I don't appreciate you running off like

her voice choked with sobs

htening. He stared at his weeping daughter, his expression ha

anted this life? You didn't! You never pay attention to what I truly want! This isn't the life I want!" she

demanded, his voic

s. "I want to go to school, have friends, make my own choices. I don't want to be surrounded

ng. "What do you know about a 'normal' life? You've never had to w

begged, her voice breaking. "Please, ju

es fixed on Roselle, perhaps searching for a flicker of defiance, a hint of rebellion that he could crush. However, he saw something different, some

most: freedom. He had built a cage around her, a cage of luxury and security, but a cage nonetheless. He had done it to protect h

ad made for her. But the words wouldn't come. He saw the pain in her eyes, the

tle smile and a wave of sadness washed over him. He remembered the dreams they had shared and the hopes they had held for their daughter. He wanted

ried to compose himself. When he opened his e

ecise. "I don't want to see you again. You c

in the air, h

t felt less like liberation and more like banishment. She had wanted her freedom, bu

, and walked toward the door. She paused for a moment, her hand on the handle, as if hesitating, as if wanting to say something, to ask him to reco

k you