Chapter 3

**DANTE**

Marco was waiting in my apartment when I got back from Sofia's casino. He sat in my chair, drinking my whiskey, looking like he was deciding whether to kill me or just break a few bones.

"You put your hands on a Santoro at a peace talk." He said it quietly. That's how I knew he was furious. Marco only got quiet when he was ready to do violence.

"I saw the ring."

"I don't care if you saw God himself. You don't sabotage years of planning because you can't control yourself." He stood up. "I should cut you loose right now."

"Then do it."

"Don't test me, Dante."

We stared at each other. Finally, Marco sat back down. "Sofia called with a proposal. A marriage alliance between you and Alessandro Santoro."

I laughed. "That's insane."

"It's brilliant. A legal marriage means shared assets, shared interests. Neither family can move against the other without destroying themselves."

"I'm not marrying a Santoro."

"Yes, you are. Because I'm ordering you to. And because it's the perfect position to destroy them from the inside." Marco leaned forward. "You marry the boy. Learn everything about their operation, their weaknesses, their secrets. Vittorio's dying. When he's gone, the family will fracture. You'll be perfectly positioned to make sure it falls our way."

"By marrying Alessandro."

"By making them trust you. Making him trust you." Marco smiled. "The kid didn't fight back when you attacked him. He's weak, guilty, perfect for manipulation. You play the long game, make him dependent on you, and when the time comes, you take everything."

I thought about Alessandro's exhaustion. The way he'd just let me hurt him.

"He'll never trust me."

"He doesn't have to trust you. He just needs you." Marco poured more whiskey. "You've been playing parts for five years. This is just another one. Sign the papers tomorrow. Move into the compound. And when Vittorio dies, we make our move."

After he left, I texted Alessandro. Told him what to expect, where to be, how this would work. I kept my messages short and commanding because that's what he'd respond to. Weak people needed someone to tell them what to do.

His replies were exactly what I expected. Compliant. Resigned. No fight at all.

Three months until the wedding. Three months to get inside the Santoro operation. Three months to position myself perfectly.

Then I'd destroy them all.

*******************

Sofiasat behind her desk, Alessandro on one side of the room, me on the other. Tommy stood by the door.

"You're both here to sign the preliminary marriage contract. Three months from today, you'll have the ceremony. In the meantime, Alessandro moves into the DeLuca compound."

"My compound," I corrected. "Marco's giving me the east wing. Alessandro lives there, under my supervision."

Alessandro looked up, surprise flickering across his face.

"Under your supervision," Sofia repeated.

"He's marrying into my family. He follows my rules." I looked directly at Alessandro. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"No." His voice was quiet.

"Speak up. I can't hear you."

"I said no. It won't be a problem." He met my eyes this time, and I saw something flash there. Anger, maybe.

"Good. Then we understand each other."

Sofia slid papers across the desk. "Standard alliance contract with marriage clauses. You'll share financial assets after the ceremony. Any violence between you violates the agreement. Essentially, you're bound to each other."

Alessandro signed without reading. Just picked up the pen and signed his name in neat letters. An artist's handwriting. It annoyed me.

I signed after him, making sure my signature was bolder, bigger.

"Congratulations," Sofia said. "You're now officially engaged. Alessandro, I suggest you pack light. Dante doesn't seem like the patient type."

"I'll have my things sent over this afternoon," Alessandro said quietly.

"No." I stood up. "You pack one bag. Essentials only. You're not moving your whole life in."

"The marriage is permanent," Sofia pointed out.

"The marriage is strategic. He doesn't need to get comfortable." I headed for the door. "Alessandro, you have two hours. Be ready when I pick you up."

"I can drive myself."

"No, you can't. You don't go anywhere without me knowing about it now. That's the deal." I smiled without warmth. "Two hours. Don't be late."

Tommy followed me out. "You're really going to do this? Marry a Santoro?"

"I'm going to use a Santoro. There's a difference."

"He seems broken already."

"That's what makes it easy. Broken people are predictable. He'll do what I tell him because he doesn't know how to do anything else."

"And when Marco makes his move?"

"Then Alessandro Santoro will learn what it feels like to lose everything, just like I did. Except he'll be alive to feel it."

**************

The Santoro estate was massive and cold. I didn't bother knocking, just walked through the front door like I owned it.

Alessandro was in his studio, packing art supplies. Paintings covered the walls. The same burning building over and over, rendered in different lights, different angles. My family's estate. He'd been painting my family's death for years.

"What the hell is this?"

He turned, startled. "You're early."

"I asked you a question."

"They're paintings. Obviously."

I walked closer, examining each canvas. The detail was disturbing. He'd researched the fire, knew exactly how the flames had looked.

"Why?"

"Because I can't forget it. I tried. Painted other things. But this is all that comes out."

"You paint my family's murder like it's art."

"I paint my guilt. There's a difference." He met my eyes. "You're not the only one who can't move on."

I grabbed his jaw, forcing him to keep looking at me. "Don't compare us. You feel guilty. I lost everything. They're not the same."

"I know." He didn't pull away. "I never thought they were."

I released him. "You have five minutes to finish packing. Leave the paintings."

"They're mine."

"I don't care. You're not decorating my space with your guilt trip. Five minutes, Alessandro. Then we're leaving whether you're ready or not."

He appeared exactly five minutes later with one bag and a box of art supplies.

"Ready?" I asked.

"No. But I don't think that matters."

"It doesn't." I took his bag. "Let's go. You've got a lot to learn about how this is going to work."

We walked out together. I saw the servants watching. Saw Nico at the top of the stairs with a smile that promised violence. Saw the fear in Alessandro's shoulders.

When we pulled up to the compound, Marco was waiting.

"Alessandro Santoro, welcome to the family."

Alessandro shook his hand. "Thank you for having me."

"Dante will show you to your rooms. We're all friends here now. Aren't we, Dante?"

"Best friends," I said.

I led Alessandro inside to the east wing. Two bedrooms with a shared sitting room. His space was smaller.

"This is you. My room is across the hall. You don't leave this wing without telling me. You don't meet with anyone without my approval. And you don't contact your family without clearing it with me first."

"Am I a prisoner?"

"You're my fiancé. Act like it." I stepped closer. "Here's how this works. You do what I say, when I say it, and maybe we get through this without anyone else dying. You fight me, and I'll make sure your compliance becomes permanent. Understand?"

He looked at me with those dark, tired eyes. "Perfectly."

"Good." I turned to leave. "Dinner is at seven. Don't be late."

"Or what?"

I smiled. "Find out if you want. I'm curious how much pushing you can actually take before you break completely."

His face went pale, and I felt satisfaction curl in my chest.

Three months. I could play nice for three months.

Then Alessandro Santoro would learn exactly what kind of man he'd married.