LOGINBellaI woke up to what easily qualified as a third-degree banging and stampede on the floor below. I tried to dissolve the ache clustering on my forehead with a massage, but it only seemed to double with every sound.Letting out a frustrated huff, I pulled on the silk robe I’d discarded on my armrest and headed downstairs to find out why Dante had decided hypertension was the best way to say good morning.Unfortunately, his rock-hard gorgeous face was absent in the chaos unfolding in the room.The walls had been stripped down to merge two rooms into a wide space. At one end, a sturdy man who looked like he hammered wood for a living was building what looked like a shelf, and at the far end, someone was taking measurements.Everyone seemed busy and rushed toward a deadline I wasn’t aware of, and if they noticed me, they didn’t acknowledge it.“What’s going on here?” I asked the younger man walking past the door.He looked startled by my presence but recovered quickly. “Sorry for wak
DANTEIn the Bratva, we don’t start families out of love, romance, friendship, companionship, etc. Families were born out of duty, either to continue the line or to form an alliance.A love match was a laughable concept amongst made men and our women understood that. It was better for any man in the Bratva to marry one of the women, that way, expectations are lowered, understanding is mutual and the union works.The most important aspect of marriage is the provision and protection for the women and the continuity for the men.So long as the women were protected and provided for, they had no right to point fingers at their husbands and the men were free to do as they pleased. Take mistresses and whatever they desire.A complete No was bringing the mistresses home or having kids with them. Then it’s considered that the woman has been dishonored especially if she is a mafia princess. Most people were betrothed at birth or early in life and only had to attain a certain age before they w
BELLA“Where are the clothes?” I asked, skimming through the clothes on the aisle and finding outfits far worse than I was currently putting on.This was the third aisle I was on and the second store we were checking out and it was the same thing. Just different styles and colors.“They’re on the racks.” She said, still wearing the same look she’s been wearing since we left the house.“These are basically lingerie and barely qualify to be called outfits.” I pointed out, holding a sheer body-fitting dress I pulled off the rack.She gave me a once-over as if to say ‘You’re currently wearing one of those.’ Before proceeding to act confused. “Oh, my mistake, I thought a place like this would be better suited for you.” This bitch. She’s had a permanent scowl sewn to her face from the moment we left the house and has not failed to find new ways to call me a slut.A positive side effect of being raised the way I’d been raised was an unshakable confidence. And while I couldn’t care less abo
BELLAEnzo and I cleaned up after breakfast and he was currently teaching me how to play Monopoly. It was a nice game, it had to do with real estate, negotiations, and money so naturally, I was drawn to it.“I’ve contacted Celine, she’ll be here in an hour or two. Tell her everything you need and she’ll get it.” Dante’s voice filtered into the kitchen ahead of him.“Hey! That’s my money.” I yelled, snatching my paper money from a thieving Enzo who lifted his hands in surrender. He keeps trying to steal from me.He’s been here for almost two hours and I can say I’ve had the best time in years. He was the first man who had spoken to me like a human being in a while.In our short time together, he has made no comment about my status, or my presence in Dante’s house, he didn’t even ask how I came to be here.He just waltzed into the house and found me on top of the kitchen stool searching for food in the cupboards and the only thing he said was “I don’t think Chinese would require so much
DANTE I went from making one bad decision in a decade to making a hundred reckless, horrible, and ill-thought decisions in the space of seven months and it all started with the appearance of Isabella Blanchett.Her comment about being eight when she was abducted had me going through her files and searching for clues. What to do with the clues, I had no idea.Every time I had picked up the file in the past had always been to see how Charlotte raised her and maybe get a few insights as to why she was so fearless.Today, I was currently putting off preparing for my meeting with Enzo in favor of digging down an Isabella-sized hole. Alright, that didn’t come out as I expected, still, I was digging and if ended up in any of her holes I certainly wouldn’t mind.According to the file, she grew up in a village in France and was abducted when she snuck out of her house at night.I rolled my eyes at the statement, of course, she was caught sneaking out. Good to know her knack for running away
BELLAThe drive to Dante’s house was mostly quiet and long. I had rushed to my room to inform Vivian of the recent development, I didn’t have enough time to provide context but I guess she got the message. She even commented how she always thought my encounters with the Don were a bit bizarre. Bizarre was certainly one way to put it.A lot of thoughts were racing through my head as we drove, not to mention how suffocating Dante’s presence was. I glanced at him from the corner of my eyes and he just sat there, staring into the road ahead, his face hard and if he tightened his jaw one more time, a vein might just pop. I on the other hand sat next to him, staring into the dark like a lamb that was being led to the slaughter. I had a shit ton of questions to ask but I doubt he’d be receptive to them with his driver present.We finally came to a stop in front of a classic-looking gate and I readied myself to get out of the car because everyone knows after the gate comes the house. Par
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