4. His House

Dante’s estate stood beyond the northern edge of the city, surrounded by stone walls, security cameras and enough armed men to defend a small country.

Alessia woke in a bedroom larger than her father’s study.

Charcoal linen covered the bed, and flames moved behind the glass of a modern fireplace. Someone had cleaned the blood from her skin, treated her bruises and dressed her in a black silk nightgown.

She sat upright.

Pain travelled through her ribs.

“You have extensive bruising, but nothing is broken.”

Dante occupied an armchair beside the window.

He had changed into a black shirt, though several buttons remained undone. A white bandage wrapped his ribs where the bullet had grazed him.

“You were shot,” she said.

“Grazed.”

“And you sat there all night?”

“Yes.”

“Watching me?”

“Yes.”

“That’s unsettling.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

Alessia pushed away the blankets. “Where are my clothes?”

“Destroyed.”

“Find me something else. I’m going home.”

“No.”

She looked at him. “Excuse me?”

Dante rose. “You were kidnapped from your father’s house using Romano security clearance. Until I identify everyone involved, you remain here.”

“You rescued me from one prison and brought me to another.”

“If you were my prisoner, the door would be locked.”

Alessia crossed the room and tried it.

The door opened.

Two armed guards stood in the hallway.

She closed it again.

Dante’s mouth twitched. “Satisfied?”

“Not remotely.”

A tray waited beside the bed with water, medication and fruit. Alessia swallowed two tablets before facing him again.

“What happened to Viktor?”

“He escaped during the transfer.”

“And Matteo?”

“In my cellar.”

“Have you tortured him?”

“Not yet.”

“He knows what happened to Gabriel.”

“So do I.”

The glass stopped halfway to her mouth.

Dante walked towards the fireplace, giving her his back.

“Gabriel contacted me five weeks before his death. He discovered your father was laundering money through companies controlled by Viktor Sokolov.”

“My father and Viktor were enemies.”

“In public.”

“What did Gabriel want from you?”

“Protection for you.”

The glass trembled in her hand.

“Why?”

“Because he intended to expose them.”

Alessia placed the glass down. “You killed him for the records.”

“No.”

“You met him that night.”

“He left our meeting alive.”

“Then who shot him?”

Dante turned.

“Matteo.”

The name struck like a blade.

“No.”

“Your father ordered it.”

Alessia crossed the room and slapped Dante.

The sound cracked through the bedroom.

His head turned with the blow.

The guards opened the door, weapons drawn.

“Out,” Dante ordered.

They immediately withdrew.

Alessia’s hand shook. “Don’t speak about my father as though you know him.”

“I know exactly who Luca Romano is.”

“You expect me to believe he murdered his son?”

“I expect you to examine the evidence.”

Dante removed an envelope from a nearby drawer. It contained bank transfers, surveillance photographs and several pages covered in Gabriel’s unmistakable handwriting.

Alessia read one sentence twice.

If anything happens to me, Luca knows.

Her knees weakened.

Dante caught her before she fell.

“Let go.”

He released her but remained close.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would you have believed me?”

“No.”

“That’s why.”

“You let me hate you.”

“Your hatred protected you. As long as Luca believed you blamed the Morettis, he had no reason to consider you dangerous.”

Alessia pressed one hand to her mouth.

Every family dinner and comforting embrace became another possible lie.

“Why did Gabriel trust you?”

“He was my friend.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Our families weren’t always at war.”

She remembered Gabriel disappearing without explanation and the Moretti matchbook she once found inside his coat.

“He asked me to keep you safe,” Dante continued. “Marriage was the only permanent way to remove you from Luca’s control.”

“So this arrangement is merely protection?”

“No.”

The single word changed the air.

Dante approached and brushed his knuckles against her cheek.

“I chose you because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the cemetery.”

“That sounds like obsession.”

“It is.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know you read when you can’t sleep. You hate white roses because they were arranged at your mother’s funeral. You drink wine with your family but prefer whisky when you’re alone.”

“You had me followed.”

“I kept you alive.”

“You invaded my privacy.”

“Yes.”

“You’re not sorry.”

“No.”

Alessia should have struck him again.

Instead, she became aware of how little space remained between them.

“What happens now?”

“We marry in ten days.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Your father may attempt to silence you once he knows you’ve seen Gabriel’s evidence. As my wife, you’ll have my protection.”

“There must be another way.”

“There are several.”

“Choose one.”

“I don’t want another way.”

His honesty was more dangerous than manipulation.

“I won’t be owned,” she said.

Dante’s hand settled lightly against her neck.

“Then stand beside me. Keep your name, your money and every weapon you can hide. Challenge me whenever you believe I’m wrong.”

His thumb rested over her racing pulse.

“But when someone comes for you, they answer to me.”