Chapter nine: the invitation

Aria’s pov

I woke to silk sheets.

Soft. Cool. Smelling of him.

My wrists ached faintly from the leather straps. My thighs bore faint red lines, like a secret only I would see. My body felt bruised, used... claimed.

And wet.

I shivered, breath catching as memory burned hot in my mind.

His hands. His voice. His cock.

Mine.

No.

His.

I sat up, pulling the sheet to my chest

The sheets tangled around my naked, marked body. My lips were swollen from his bruising mouth.

Nero’s side of the bed was cold.

Good.

For a moment, I let myself breathe.

I wasn’t broken.

Not yet.

Not ever.

I would fight him until I bled. Until this cruel arrangement burned to ash. Until I was free. My defiance might cost me everything... but so would submission.

The door creaked open.

He stepped in, dressed in black slacks and a silk shirt unbuttoned at the throat. A quiet predator. His dark eyes flared when they landed on me.

“Awake, little fox,” Nero murmured. "Good. I didn’t fuck the spirit out of you... yet."

I glared daggers at him, dragging the sheet up over my chest.

“Get out.”

His smile was slow. Dangerous.

“You ruined last night, cara. Making a spectacle in front of men who kill for less offense. You embarrassed me in front of the Five Families.” His voice dropped, low and quiet like a loaded gun. “There is a price for such foolishness.”

I said nothing.

His gaze swept over me, lingering on the bruises he left behind.

"You'll pay... but not today. Today, you’ll play the perfect bride." His lips twitched. "Tonight, you will dine with my family."

I stiffened.

"Your family?"

Nero chuckled darkly. “Yes, princess. The Moretti bloodline you are now chained to. Mother. Brothers. The other Dons. All eager to see the woman foolish enough to test my patience.”

My stomach twisted.

“No.”

His smile vanished. Like sunlight swallowed by storm clouds.

“No?” he echoed softly. “You still think you have choices, little fox?”

I lifted my chin. "I won't smile for them. I won’t pretend I want this. I’m not your whore to parade.”

Faster than thought, he was in front of me.

Fingers in my hair.

Fisting. Yanking my head back.

"Careful," he growled, mouth at my ear. "There’s only so much rebellion I allow before I make you regret breathing."

His scent flooded my senses. Leather. Spice. Power.

"You will come to dinner," he murmured. "You will smile. You will charm. You will show them the face of a proper Donna. Or I will drag you to the table naked and bruised, and feed you from my hand like a dog in front of them all."

I gasped.

His thumb dragged over my lips.

"Be good, little fox... or I’ll break you in ways you can’t imagine. Last night was child's play compared to the things I have done and will do.”

He released me.

I trembled with fury.

"I’ll have a dress brought," he said. "And something lovely for your throat. Something to remind you who you belong to."

I glared. "Fuck you."

His smile sharpened.

"Again?" His dark laugh flowed into the air. "Soon, little fox. Soon."

He turned, heading for the door.

But paused.

"Try to run again before dinner... and the punishment will make last night look merciful."

The door shut behind him.

I stared at the ceiling, fury boiling in my chest.

He thought this was over.

He thought I was broken.

He had no idea.

Tonight, while he forced me to dance at the Moretti table, I would make my first move. A deadly one.

I rose, the sheet slipping from my naked body.

This room was a cage. But even cages had cracks.

I checked the windows. Barred. Reinforced glass. The balcony sealed.

The doors? Locked from the outside.

But the maid, the timid, fearful girl from last night would come soon with the dress.

And when she did...

I smiled coldly.

Mice could be bribed.

And every mouse knew the name I whispered now:

Valentine.

Valentine was the mercenary assassin my father once hired in secret. The man whose loyalty I’d bought with a single, bloody favor.

He was in Italy now.

Waiting.

If I could get word to him... if I could survive this wretched dinner... Nero Moretti would soon have a knife at his throat.

I dressed quickly in the silk robe left on the chair. My body ached from his touch. My skin burned from the belt.

But my spirit?

Untouched.

Unbroken.

Soon the door opened.

The maid crept in. Head bowed. A box in her hands.

She set it on the bed without looking at me.

"My lady," she murmured. "Your breakfast."

Silver trays. Fresh fruit, warm croissants, honey, dark coffee.

And a box.

Black velvet. With a red ribbon.

I frowned. "What is that?"

"A gift, Signora." She set it on the bed. "From him."

Nero.

My belly tightened.

The maid gave a small, terrified curtsy. "He said to tell you... the Don watches his little fox very closely. Always."

A chill skittered down my spine.

When she left, I opened the box.

Inside lay lingerie.

Sheer black lace. A garter belt. Stockings so fine they shimmered like mist.

And a note.

Tonight, you will dine at my table as my wife. My queen. My possession. Disobey... and I will punish you where everyone can watch.

I swallowed. My thighs clenched.

The bastard.

"The dress, Signora," she whispered handing me another box then turned to leave.

"Wait."

She froze.

I stepped close.

"Your name."

"Lucia."

"Good, Lucia. Listen carefully." I lifted her chin. She trembled under my gaze. "I need you to deliver a message. Quietly. Secretly. To a man in the city. Can you do this for me?"

She paled. "The Don will kill me—"

"I’ll make you rich. You’ll leave this house forever. Or..." I leaned in, voice silk and poison. "He’ll kill you anyway when he tires of you. Which would you prefer?"

Her throat bobbed.

"Good girl." I smiled. "Take this."

I pulled the gold pendant from my neck. The one Valentine gave me long ago.

"Give this to the butcher in Via San Marco. He’ll know what to do."

Lucia clutched the pendant. Terror and curiosity grew in her eyes.

"Go. Now."

She fled.

I closed the door behind her.

Smiling.

Tonight Nero Moretti would parade me before his empire.

But soon... his empire would burn.

I opened the box.

Inside lay a gown of deepest crimson. Silk and lace. Cut to reveal thighs and cleavage.

A choker of rubies waited beside it.

I picked it up.

Etched in gold on the clasp: Dominus.

I swallowed the rage that burned in my throat.

"Enjoy your dinner, Nero," I whispered.

"While you still can."

I smiled faintly.

Because tomorrow… when his empire sleeps...

I would strike.

And I would burn his perfect world to ash.