Chapter 5: The Red Silk Trap

The silk felt like a second skin, slick, burning red, and entirely unforgiving.

The dress Lucian had left on my vanity was a masterpiece of wicked design. It clung to every curve of my hips, the back plunging down to the base of my spine, while a thigh-high slit on the left side revealed nearly my entire leg with every step I took. It left me feeling entirely exposed, yet impossibly striking.

I stared at my reflection in the full-length mirror, my pulse thumping against my collarbone where the faint, purplish shadow of Damian’s mark remained hidden under a layer of concealer.

A knock echoed on the heavy bedroom door. Before I could answer, the door swung open.

Damian stood in the doorway, framed by the dim light of the corridor. He was wearing a tailored black suit with an unbuttoned collar, looking lethal, broad, and impossibly handsome. His dark gaze swept over me, taking in the crimson dress from my bare shoulders down to my silk-wrapped ankles.

A slow, predatory flame lit in his dark eyes.

"Look at you," Damian murmured, stepping inside and closing the door behind him with a soft click. He walked toward me with that slow, panther-like stride, stopping just inches behind me. In the mirror, his towering frame completely swallowed mine. "Red is definitely your color, little bride."

I held my breath, refusing to look back at him directly, keeping my eyes fixed on his reflection. "Lucian asked me to wear it."

"Lucian has good taste," Damian purred, his large, warm hands coming up to rest on my bare waist. The contrast of his rough, heavy palms against my bare skin made my breath hitch. He leaned down, his lips brushing against the sensitive curve where my neck met my shoulder. "Or perhaps... I have good taste, and he simply took the credit."

"Stop it, Damian," I whispered, though my voice lacked conviction. My body traitorously leaned back against his solid chest, melted by the sheer, undeniable heat radiating off him. "The guests are waiting downstairs."

"Let them wait," Damian growled against my skin, his thumb caressing the bare curve of my hip along the high slit of the dress. "Rival syndicate leaders, mafia council members... They all came to see Don Lucian’s new trophy wife. They expect to see a fragile girl broken by forced marriage."

His hands slid up my ribs, his long fingers trailing dangerously close to the sides of my breasts, sending a violent shiver straight down to my core.

"Show them you're not fragile, Valerie," Damian whispered, his dark eyes locking onto mine in the mirror reflection. "Show them who you belong to."

Before I could answer, the sharp, distinct sound of a silver bell chimed twice from the main hallway downstairs, the signal that dinner was being served.

Damian released me smoothly, taking a half-step back, though his dark gaze lingered on my lips. He offered me his arm, his expression instantly shifting back to that cold, distant enforcer mask.

"Shall we, sister-in-law?" he asked, his voice returning to a cool, polite tone that made my head spin.

I swallowed hard, placing my gloved hand over his forearm. His biceps felt like solid iron beneath the dark fabric of his suit. Together, we walked down the grand marble staircase into the main dining hall.

The grand dining room was suffocating.

A dozen high-ranking mob bosses and syndicate representatives sat around the long mahogany table, surrounded by armed guards standing silently against the wood-paneled walls. The air was heavy with the scents of expensive cigars, rich wine, and underlying violence.

At the head of the long table sat Lucian.

He was dressed in a pristine black tuxedo, sitting upright in his leather wheelchair. His pale face was motionless, his dark eyes cold as ice as he listened to a burly, scarred mafia boss speaking animatedly across the table.

When Damian and I entered the room, the conversations died instantly.

Every eye in the room landed on me. Whispers broke out among the council members, their gazes lingering on the revealing red silk dress, the way I moved, and the powerful man walking beside me.

"Ah, Don Lucian's new bride," the burly boss roared, raising a glass of bourbon. "You certainly know how to pick them, Lucian. She looks far too delicate for a house like this."

Lucian didn't smile. He slowly turned his head toward me, his gaze sweeping over the red dress with an intense, dark focus that sent a sudden spike of heat through my veins.

"Valerie is far stronger than she appears, Salvatore," Lucian said, his voice quiet, flat, yet carrying a weight that silenced the room. He gestured to the empty chair directly to his right. "Sit beside me, my love."

I released Damian's arm and walked over, taking the seat next to Lucian's wheelchair. Damian took his place on my other side, effectively trapping me between the two identical men.

Throughout the dinner, the tension was thick enough to cut with a blade. Rivals threw veiled threats at Lucian, testing his authority, trying to see if his physical paralysis had weakened his grip on the East Coast empire. Lucian handled them with cold, terrifying precision, dissecting their arguments with a few sharp words without ever raising his voice.

Underneath the table, however, a completely different war was being waged.

While Lucian engaged the council members in high-stakes political negotiations, I felt a heavy, warm hand slide onto my knee beneath the tablecloth.

My breath caught in my throat.

I glanced at Damian, but he was casually taking a sip of his wine, looking completely detached as he listened to a guard report. I glanced at Lucian, but his hands were resting on top of the table near his plate.

It was Damian.

His broad, hot hand slid up the inside of my bare thigh, guided by the high slit of my red dress. His calloused fingers brushed past the silk, trailing up toward the delicate lace of my underwear with agonizing slowness.

I gripped my linen napkin so hard my knuckles turned white. I kept my face entirely impassive, staring straight ahead, my heart hammering against my ribs like a wild drum.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Lucian asked softly, turning his head toward me. His dark eyes searched my flushed face. "You barely touched your wine."

"I'm... I'm fine, Lucian," I gasped out quietly, trying to keep my voice from trembling as Damian's long fingers pushed aside the damp silk of my lace panties, finding the burning core of my heat.

Damian didn't hesitate. He drove one long finger deep inside me right beneath the dinner table, drawing a sharp, silent gasp from my lips.

Lucian’s eyes narrowed minutely, taking in my rising chest and the sudden, feverish flush spreading across my cheeks and collarbone. "You seem warm, Valerie."

"It's just... a bit hot in here," I whimpered softly, pressing my thighs tightly together, but that only trapped Damian's fingers deeper inside me. He set a slow, rhythmic stroke beneath the linen tablecloth, his thumb finding my swollen clitoris and working in small, punishing circles.

Wave after wave of intense, liquid heat shot straight up my spine. My toes curled inside my high heels as I fought with every ounce of my willpower not to scream out in front of twelve dangerous mafia bosses.

"Perhaps you should step out onto the terrace for some fresh air," Lucian suggested, his dark eyes fixing onto mine with an unreadable, piercing gaze. "Damian can escort you."

My head snapped toward Lucian. Was he giving his brother permission? Or was he testing us?

Damian slowly withdrew his hand from beneath the table, placing his glass down with a soft clink. His dark eyes gleamed with wicked satisfaction as he stood up from his chair.

"Of course, brother," Damian said smoothly, offering his hand to me once more. "I will make sure our bride is properly... refreshed."

I stood up on trembling legs, my lower body throbbing violently, completely consumed by the fire they were stoking inside me. As I placed my hand in Damian's, I looked down at Lucian one last time.

Lucian picked up his wine glass, taking a slow sip, his lips curling into a microscopic, dangerous smile that sent a shiver straight down my soul.

"Don't stay out in the dark too long, Valerie," Lucian murmured softly. "The night is just getting started.”