Chapter 4

The sunlight filtered in through sheer, ivory curtains, casting soft patterns over the polished marble floor. I blinked awake, the cold edge of the sheets brushing against my bare skin like ice. The bed beneath me was enormous, probably bigger than the entire bedroom back in my old apartment. The mattress was too soft, the silk sheets too smooth like sleeping on a lie.

The room was fit for a queen, or a prisoner.

Gilded molding lined the walls, and a crystal chandelier hung above like it belonged in a palace. To my left, a mirrored vanity stood with untouched perfumes and jewelry I hadn't dared to wear. A walk-in closet yawned open across the room, already filled with expensive clothes Dante's people had selected for me. None of them were mine. Not really.

All this space... and still, I can't breathe.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, my bare feet touching the cold marble. The echo reminded me how alone I was. No creaky wood floors. No cheap heater rattling in the background. Just silence and suffocating elegance.

What have I gotten myself into?

Dante's voice from the night before echoed in my mind. "You're going to make him understand he can't touch what's mine."

I stood and walked to the wardrobe, brushing past silk and satin until I found something sharp, something that looked like armor. A fitted black dress, clean lines, no frills. It hugged my body like a warning and said everything I didn't have the words for.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror. The girl staring back didn't look like the Sera who once rationed groceries or skipped rent to pay for Luca's school books. She looked like someone who belonged here—cold, polished, dangerous.

You don't belong here. You're pretending. Don't forget why you're doing this.

I took a breath, then another. My pulse steadied, but only just.

I wasn't going to Caruso as a secretary.

I was going as Dante Moretti's message.

I made my way downstairs where the scent of brewed coffee led me to a sprawling breakfast room. The long table was already set with silverware, fresh croissants, fruit, and a steaming pot of coffee.

Dante sat at the head of the table, already reading the newspaper, wearing a crisp white shirt and watch that probably cost more than a year of my rent.

"Good morning, Sera," he said without looking up.

"Morning," I replied shortly and quietly, slipping into the seat beside him.

He poured me a cup of coffee and gestured to the food. "Eat. You'll need the energy." He said like he cares.

I tried not to react. "Energy for what?"

He finally looked at me, those cold grey eyes assessing. "There's an event coming up for tomorrow. A gathering. Businessmen, associates, old families. You'll be by my side."

I blinked. "What kind of gathering?" I asked with shock in my eyes.

"A formal party. One of many. These events are where power is negotiated without saying a word."

I frowned. "Why me?" I asked again confused.

"Because you're mine now," he said simply, sipping his coffee. "And I don't just bring anyone into that world."

His. That word again. Like I was a thing, a piece on his chessboard.

"I don't exactly have anything to wear for that," I said, trying to keep my voice neutral.

He smirked. "That's why we're going shopping today. You're going to look elegant. The kind of woman who can stand beside me without blinking."

I raised an eyebrow. "You mean pretend to be someone I'm not?"

"No," he said, his tone firm. "I mean become someone you didn't know you could be."

I sat back, appetite forgotten. 

What exactly had I signed up for?

I just finished our breakfast and got ready to ride the car. The moment the car stopped in front of the luxury boutiques, my stomach twisted into a knot. I wasn't used to this kind of place—the sleek, polished buildings, the expensive displays in the windows, and the expensive perfume that filled the air, clinging to everything. It was so far from the world I came from that I almost wanted to turn around and run back to my small, familiar apartment. But I couldn't. Not now.

I stepped out of the car, feeling the weight of every gaze on me as I crossed the sidewalk. Eyes followed me—not with pity, but with judgment. Maybe it was because I wasn't dressed like I belonged here. I glanced down at my simple black dress and flat shoes, realizing how out of place I looked.

The fitting room felt overwhelming, both in size and the luxurious clothes that surrounded me. The walls were lined with polished mirrors that reflected every angle of me in the dresses I tried on, as if the room was watching, waiting for me to make a decision.

I stepped out of the changing area and into the room where Dante waited, arms crossed, looking over me with a gaze that seemed both assessing and admiring.

"How do you feel?" he asked, his tone soft, as if he genuinely wanted to know.

I looked down at the first dress I tried on a soft, flowy light pink gown with intricate lace work. It was beautiful, but the sight of myself in it felt so alien, so far removed from who I was. I wasn't sure if I could pull it off.

"I don't know," I replied, a little uncertain. "I'm not used to this."

Dante's eyes flicked over me as he approached, his steps measured, calm. "You look beautiful," he said simply, his voice smooth like velvet. There was no hesitation in his words, no doubt.

I blushed, the warmth spreading across my cheeks before I could stop it. It wasn't just because of the compliment, but the way he said it like he meant it, like it was an undeniable truth.

I tugged at the lace nervously. "I think it's too much. I'm not sure I could wear something like this."

Dante raised an eyebrow, amused. "Why? Because it's too beautiful?"

I smiled faintly, shaking my head. "Because it's too much for me."

He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving mine. "This world isn't about what you're used to. It's about what you can be." His voice was softer now, coaxing. "You can be anyone you want in this dress, Sera. It's your choice."

I stood there with my loud heartbeat that I hope he can’t hear, feeling a little dizzy from the intensity of his gaze. But the words lingered in my mind, pushing away the insecurities I didn't even know I had. Maybe I could wear it. Maybe I could wear something beautiful and own it.

Before I could make up my mind, Dante was already gesturing to the assistant. "Wrap it up," he said, his tone final. "I'll take it."

I blinked in surprise. "Wait—what? But I haven't decided yet."

Dante looked at me with a faint, teasing smile. "You don't need to. It's already decided."

My heart skipped a beat as I watched the sales assistant gather the dress, but before I could protest, I was led to try on a few more options. It felt like being swept up in a current I couldn't control.

Every dress I tried on was met with Dante's approving gaze, his nod or slight smile, until I felt a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the dresses. I wasn't just trying on clothes—I was trying on a new version of myself.

There was a deep red dress next. It hugged my curves in a way I wasn't used to, the silk fabric clinging to my body like a second skin. I stepped out again, unsure, but Dante's gaze softened the moment he saw me.

"That one," he said simply, pointing to the red dress. "This is the one."

I blushed again, my cheeks flaming as I looked down at myself in the dress. "It's... a little bold," I murmured, barely able to look at him.

He tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into that half-smile of his. "You're bold, Sera. Don't hide it."

I couldn't hold back the smile that tugged at my lips, and for a moment, I felt lighter. I felt like maybe—just maybe—I was starting to understand this world he was pulling me into.

When I came out of the fitting room, he didn't even hesitate. "Take that one, too," he said, as if it were a matter of course.

I shook my head, laughing lightly. "Dante, you don't even know if I like it!"

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'm not buying it for you to 'like' it. I'm buying it for you to wear it." He looked at me then, that smoldering intensity flickering in his gaze. "You're going to look perfect. Trust me."

And just like that, my nerves started to melt away. It wasn't about the clothes or the dresses—it was the way he made me feel like I was worthy of all of it. As though I didn't have to be anyone but myself, and that was enough for him.

By the time we were done, I was carrying more bags than I could count—most of them filled with dresses and outfits I never would've dared try on if it were just me. Dante's insistence had turned the experience into something more than just a shopping trip. It felt... intimate.

"Do you ever think about what you really want, Sera?" Dante asked as we walked toward the car, his voice a little softer than usual.

I glanced at him, unsure what to say. I hadn't really had time to think about myself. All my thoughts had been consumed with Luca, the deal, the mafia. But here, with Dante, I wasn't just a tool or a pawn—I was someone he saw as worthy of all of this.

"I don't know," I admitted, unsure of the answer.

"Well, maybe it's time you started thinking about it," he said, his tone thoughtful. "What does Sera Leone want?" He asked and titled his head and looked into my lips.

I looked away. The question hung in the air as I slid into the car, my hands resting on the bags in my lap. He sat with me at the back. It was a question I hadn't expected, but now that it was out there, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that the real test wasn't over.

"Caruso will be expecting you soon," Dante said, his voice cool, his gaze distant.

My heart skipped a beat. "Caruso?" I repeated, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Yes," Dante said, his tone darkening slightly. "You'll meet him later."

I swallowed, a knot tightening in my stomach. The name Caruso didn't just sound like a warning—it was a threat. "What should I expect?" I asked, already knowing the answer wouldn't be easy.

Dante glanced at me, his eyes intense. "Nothing good. But I trust you can handle it."

The car ride was silent as we left the high-end shopping district. His usual calm demeanor unbroken, while I absently ran my fingers over the smooth fabric of the dress he'd insisted on buying. My mind was still buzzing from the whirlwind shopping spree, from the sudden luxury I had been thrust into. Every boutique had been filled with dresses, shoes, jewelry, the things I had only ever dreamed of and Dante hadn't even hesitated to buy everything I tried on.

I never even had a chance to choose for myself

I thought, glancing at Dante, who seemed so unbothered by the extravagance.

But I guess I don't have a choice. He's in control.

I was still blushing when we pulled into the parking garage of Caruso's building. The contrast was stark, his building looming tall, its glass windows reflecting the evening's orange light, a symbol of power and influence. The driver parked the car, and I felt the weight of what was about to happen pressing on my chest. This wasn't just some casual meeting; this was my first real test. A moment when I had to prove my worth.

Dante turned to me as we stepped out of the car. His expression softened slightly, though his eyes still held that unreadable intensity.

"Take care in there," he said, his voice low but commanding. "Caruso isn't the kind of man to let his guard down easily. Keep your distance, but don't show fear."

I nodded, trying to steady my breathing, but my hands were already slightly shaking.

Keep it together, Sera.

I wasn't about to show Caruso or Dante any weakness. I straightened my back, forced my chin up, and followed Dante as he led me toward the building entrance.

Inside, I couldn't shake the feeling of stepping into another world entirely. The cold marble floors beneath my feet seemed to hum with the power of everyone who had walked through here before. The elevators opened smoothly, and we stepped inside, rising silently to the rooftop restaurant.

When the doors opened, I saw Caruso already seated, his gray suit sharp against the backdrop of the city skyline. He was watching the sun dip below the horizon, his expression unreadable as he waited for us.

Here goes nothing

I thought as I followed Dante to the table, my heart pounding in my chest. The game was about to begin.

I walked toward the table where Caruso was waiting, my heels clicking on the polished stone floor. My palms were slightly clammy, but I forced myself to maintain my composure, reminding myself that this was just another part of the game Dante had pulled me into.

Caruso's gaze flicked up the moment I approached. His sharp gray suit matched the coolness in his eyes. Despite his age, mid-sixties, maybe—there was a certain allure to him, an aura of danger wrapped in a perfectly polished exterior. His silver hair, meticulously combed, only added to the impression that he was a man who had seen it all.

I took my seat opposite him, and he smiled—a smile that was as smooth as silk but as dangerous as a snake.

"Ah, Mr. Moretti sends a pretty messenger," he said, his voice smooth and laced with amusement as he looked at me. "I was hoping he'd come himself."

I met his gaze, my back straight, and raised an eyebrow. "He trusts me to speak for him. That should tell you something." I said confidently.

His smile didn't waver, though there was something sharp behind it. "You have his confidence, then? I suppose I should be flattered." He laughed sarcastically.

I didn't flinch. "You should be," I replied evenly, keeping my tone steady and smiled. "He trusts that I'm capable of handling business that's... above your level."

Caruso chuckled, but the sound didn't reach his eyes. His cold gaze lingered on me for a moment, assessing, and I held his stare, refusing to back down.

"So, what is it you're here to discuss, Miss Leone?" he asked, his voice taking on a mocking tone, though he masked it well.

I leaned forward, carefully placing the folder I'd brought on the table, the contents secure inside. "I'm here to present a deal," I said, my voice unwavering. "A new overseas shipping contract. It may seem simple, but there are... advantages, shall we say. It will allow you to move certain goods under the radar."

Caruso's interest piqued, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He glanced down at the folder in front of him before looking back at me. "And what do you expect in return?" he asked, his voice low and calculating.

"I expect nothing from you," I said, leaning back in my chair. "This is strictly business. You take the deal, and you make your money. Dante gets what he wants, and you get what you want."

Caruso tapped his fingers on the table, clearly intrigued. "You're clever, Miss Leone. Too clever for this game." He smirked as he pointed the folders to me.

I didn't flinch. "Then don't play with me." I said as my face become serious.

There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, and for a moment, I thought I might have gone too far. But I wasn't here to be intimidated. Dante had given me the authority to handle this, and I wasn't going to let Caruso think for one second that he could manipulate me.

Caruso leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "You remind me of someone I buried a long time ago," he said, his voice low, almost to the point of a whisper.

My pulse quickened, but I forced myself to remain calm.

Don't react. Don't blink.

The game was still on, and I couldn't let him throw me off balance.

"And who would that be?" I asked, my voice steady, though the coldness of his words lingered in the back of my mind.

Caruso smiled again, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Doesn't matter," he replied and cleared his throat, his gaze flicking over me like he was deciding whether or not to trust me.

But there’s this question inside me.

Who is that?

“What matters is whether you think you can handle this deal, Miss Leone. You're playing a dangerous game." He continued.

"I don't play games," I said firmly. "I make deals."

His smile faded slightly, replaced by a calculating look that made my skin crawl. "We'll see how long that confidence lasts, won't we?"

I met his gaze without flinching. "You're not the first man to underestimate me." I said then looked at Dante who’s looking proud at me.

Caruso's smile returned, colder now. He raised his glass of wine to his lips, then set it down again, his fingers brushing against the rim. "I like you, Miss Leone. You remind me of someone I used to admire. But don't get too comfortable. No one wins forever."

I nodded, refusing to show any sign of fear. "I'll take my chances."

The conversation lingered for a few more minutes, but the tension had shifted. Caruso wasn't taking me lightly anymore, but he hadn't won either. I was playing this game to the end, and I wouldn't let him think otherwise.