Chapter 3

The drive back from Mr. Caruso's office was a blur. It’s been rainy these week and as the raindrops streaked across the tinted windows, matching the chaos that stormed in my mind. Caruso's threats, the suffocating tension in that room, Dante's shadow hanging over every word. I couldn't escape it. I had done what Dante asked. I had sat there, smiled politely, played the loyal secretary while Caruso tried to intimidate me. And I had smiled through it. But now? Now, I wasn't sure if I was becoming brave or just numb.

Is this who I'm becoming? Someone who smiles at wolves and pretends she's not bleeding?

The sleek black car rolled to a stop in front of the Moretti estate. The gates opened slowly, like jaws parting to swallow me whole. Towering stone pillars framed the iron gates, carved with symbols I didn't understand but knew were meant to keep people like me in check. The kind of symbols that whispered like “You don't belong here unless you're owned.”

The car doors clicked open. The silence inside the vehicle felt heavier than the rain outside.

I stepped out, heels tapping against the wet marble driveway, the cold air biting at my skin. My fingers gripped the strap of my purse so tightly it ached. 

Walk tall. Breathe. You're not scared. You can't afford to be scared. 

But inside, my nerves trembled. Every step I took toward that massive front door felt like a countdown to something I didn't understand yet.

Inside, the building swallowed me in silence.

The butler waited near the staircase, his hands neatly folded in front of him. His face was unreadable, carved from years of loyalty to a man who didn't tolerate questions.

"Miss Leone, Mr. Moretti has requested your presence in his office," he said with the same clinical detachment I was beginning to associate with everyone in this house.

"Thank you," I replied as I bowed my head as a sign of respect, forcing composure into my voice. I didn't ask why Dante wanted me. I already knew. Nothing in this place happened without purpose.

The grand staircase loomed ahead, twisting upward like a gilded spine. With each step, the hush of the house seemed to deepen. No laughter. No music. Just the soft thud of my heels echoing down long, empty hallways lined with oil paintings that stared back at me like judges.

Breathe. Don't hesitate. Show no fear.

At the top, I paused before his office. The double doors were closed, towering, polished, ominous. Should I knock? Would he already know I was here? That eerie sixth sense of his always left me off balance.

I pushed the door open.

Dante sat at his desk, back turned to me. The room was dim, lit only by the bleed of dark gray clouds through the wide windows behind him. He looked like a sculpture, carved from shadows and control.

"You're late," he said, voice smooth but sharp enough to cut.

I didn't let the jab hit me. "I was finishing some business," I answered rolling my eyes, stepping in and taking a seat across from him without waiting for permission. 

Don't look rattled. Don't look small. Even if you feel like you're about to break in half.

He turned slowly, his eyes locking on mine. There it was—that piercing gaze. The one that didn't just look at you, but through you.

"You're too calm," he said, leaning forward, elbows on the desk. "Tell me, Sera... how are you really feeling?"

That caught me off guard. Dante didn't ask questions like that. He gave orders, read motives, hunted weaknesses. He didn't ask how you felt. He knew how you felt—or he didn't care.

But I didn't blink. "I'm doing fine," I replied, lips curling into a smile I didn't feel. "I've got it under control."

He laughed, low and cold. A sound that made the air feel colder somehow.

"Control," he echoed. "That's what everyone says when they're two seconds from breaking."

I stiffened, refusing to let him get under my skin. You don't know me, Dante. You think you do, but you only see what I let you see.

"I'm not breaking," I said.

His gaze narrowed. "Not yet."

A flicker of something passed between us—heat, tension, a warning I couldn't quite interpret. Then his voice dropped lower.

"You don't need to worry about how deep you're sinking into this world. I'll make sure of that."

That's not comforting. It didn't feel like protection. It felt like a promise laced with chains. The thunder matched our presence.

"I'm here because of Luca," I reminded him. My voice was steadier than I expected. "That's the only reason." I said word by word to make him remember.

He didn't argue. Didn't protest. He just looked at me like I was a piece of glass he was waiting to shatter.

"I know. But the thing about deals like ours, Sera..." His fingers drummed against the desk. "...is that they don't come without consequences."

The words sent a chill down my spine.

"What are you asking?" I whispered.

He leaned back, hands clasped under his chin. "Nothing. Not yet."

That not yet was doing all the damage.

"I've given you the chance to save your brother," he continued. "But nothing in this world comes for free."

My voice was tight when I asked, "What's your price?" I said as I crossed my elbows.

He smiled then. That slow, predatory smile that meant nothing good. "You'll find out soon enough."

I stared at him, waiting, hoping he'd say something else. But he didn't. Instead, he changed the subject with the ease of someone who'd already decided my future.

"Let's talk about Caruso." He said as he fixed his necktie and posture.

The name snapped me back into focus. "What about him?" I asked confusedly.

"He's not going to back down," Dante said. His tone was all business now. "But you're going to make him understand that he can't touch what's mine."

The possessiveness in his voice didn't escape me.

I'm not a thing. I'm not yours.

But I didn't say that. I just nodded, jaw tight.

"How?" I asked.

"However you need to," he replied. "Make him feel like you're a lamb. And then remind him you're a lion."

The way he said it chilled me. Is this a joke? Just because i’m a Leone? Or is this is who I have to become now? Someone who pretends to be harmless just to strike?

Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy. My heart thudded hard in my chest.

I stood slowly, needing distance, needing air.

"I'll handle it," I said, voice quiet but firm. "I'll do what needs to be done."

Dante's gaze followed me as I turned.

"Good," he said simply.

But as I walked away, his office door shutting behind me with a quiet click, the weight of his presence still clung to me like smoke.

What had I just agreed to?