chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Mark of the Romanovs

​The master suite doors slammed shut, locking us in.

​Dante didn’t let go of my wrist. He hauled me toward the center of the room, his grip like a shackle.

​"Let go!" I shoved at his chest, my palms hitting cold, damp silk. "I saved your men at the bridge. I kept you from being blown to pieces. Is this how you say thank you?"

​Dante didn't answer. He never did. He just stared at me, his eyes dark with a look I couldn't decipher.

​"Lorenzo!" I shouted toward the door. "Tell your boss to get his hands off me!"

​Lorenzo stepped into the room, his face tight. "He can't do that, Bianca."

​"Why not? The war is over for the night!"

​"The war just moved under your skin," Lorenzo said, pointing to my arm.

​I looked down. Under the pale skin of my bicep, a tiny red light was pulsing.

​"A tracker," I breathed. My heart plummeted. "My father… he let them tag me during the handover."

​Dante’s jaw shifted. He reached into his belt and pulled out a small, curved blade.

​"No!" I backed away, hitting the edge of the desk. "Dante, stop. You aren't cutting me open in a bedroom!"

​He didn't hesitate. He stepped into my space, his heavy frame pinning me against the wood. He grabbed a bottle of high-end vodka from the bar, uncorked it with his teeth, and poured it over the blade.

​"Lorenzo, stop him!"

​"He’s saving your life, Bianca," Lorenzo said, though he didn't move an inch. "If the Romanovs follow that signal here, we all die. The Don doesn't negotiate with tracers."

​Dante grabbed my arm. His fingers were bruisingly strong.

​"Look at me," I hissed, forcing him to meet my eyes. "If you do this, you do it fast. Do you hear me?"

​Dante’s eyes flickered. For a split second, the coldness wavered. He leaned down, his forehead pressing against mine.

​"Stay," he mouthed. No sound. Just the shape of the word against the air between us.

​Then the blade bit in.

​I gasped, my fingernails digging into his shoulders. I refused to scream. I wouldn't give him that. I watched his face—he didn't flinch. He worked with the terrifying precision of a man who had done this a hundred times.

​Seconds later, a bloody silver chip hit the marble floor.

​Dante immediately pressed a white cloth to the wound. He didn't pull away. He kept his body pressed against mine, shielding me from the rest of the room.

​"It’s out," Lorenzo announced. "But we have a bigger problem."

​Dante looked up, his gaze narrowing.

​"The Council is downstairs," Lorenzo continued. "They heard about the 'Genius' bride. They think you wasted five million on a liability. They want a demonstration, Dante. Now."

​I pushed back against Dante’s chest. "A demonstration? I'm not a circus animal."

​"You're a Moretti," Lorenzo countered. "And if you don't prove your worth in the next ten minutes, they’ll vote to have you 'liquidated' to recoup the loss."

​Dante straightened up. He walked to a hidden wall safe, pulled out a heavy gold serpent necklace, and walked back to me.

​He didn't ask. He draped the gold around my neck, the cold metal resting against my collarbone.

​"I won't do it," I said, glaring at him. "I won't be your puppet."

​Dante leaned in, his lips brushing my ear.

​"Speak," he rumbled.

​The sound of his voice sent a shockwave through my system. It was deep, raw, and dangerous.

​"Speak for me," he whispered, his breath hot. "Or they will never let you leave this house alive."

​He stepped back, his face returning to its silent, stony mask.

​"The shower is ready," Lorenzo said, gesturing to the bathroom. "Five minutes, Bianca. Make them believe you’re the smartest person in the room, or you won't live to see

​I looked at the bloody chip on the floor, then at the man who had just saved me—and threatened me—in the same breath.

​"Fine," I said, my voice cold. "I'll speak for the Silent Don. But when I'm done, he's going to wish he’d stayed quiet."

​Dante’s mouth twitched. A smirk.

​He pointed to the door.

​Move.