Under His Roof

“You should sleep.”

Dante said it like an order disguised as concern.

Aruna stood frozen near the foot of the bed, her fingers tightening around the edge of the robe. The room felt smaller now that he was standing so close. Not because of walls or furniture, but because of him. His presence filled the air, heavy and unavoidable.

“I don’t think I can,” she answered honestly.

Dante studied her face for a moment, as if measuring something invisible. “You will,” he said. “Eventually.”

He stepped back, giving her space at last, and moved toward the other side of the room. She noticed then that there was another door she had not paid attention to before.

“I’ll be in there,” he said, pointing. “The door stays open.”

Her brows furrowed. “Why?”

“So you don’t convince yourself you’re alone,” he replied.

That was not comforting.

She climbed onto the bed carefully, as if it might collapse under the weight of her fear. The sheets were cool, soft, unfamiliar. Nothing about this place felt real yet. It was too quiet, too clean, too far from the life she had known just hours ago.

Dante turned off the main light, leaving only a dim lamp on the side table. Shadows stretched across the walls, long and slow.

“Try to sleep,” he said again.

She lay back stiffly, staring at the ceiling.

“Dante,” she called softly.

“Yes?”

“Are you really a mafia?”

Silence followed. She thought he might ignore the question.

“Yes,” he said finally.

The word settled into her chest like a stone.

She swallowed. “Why me?”

“You’ve asked that already.”

“And you haven’t answered it.”

He paused at the doorway between the rooms. “Because you were already trapped,” he said. “I just moved the cage.”

The door remained open.

Sleep did not come easily.

Every sound made Aruna flinch. Footsteps somewhere in the house. A low murmur of voices from a distance. The faint hum of security systems she could not see. She kept her eyes closed, pretending to sleep, pretending she was safe.

She was not sure how much time passed before she felt the mattress dip slightly.

Her eyes flew open.

Dante sat on the edge of the bed, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him through the sheets. He did not touch her. He did not even look at her at first. His gaze was fixed on the open door, alert, focused.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered.

“Nothing,” he replied. “Go back to sleep.”

“You’re lying.”

“Yes.”

Her heart raced. “Are we in danger?”

“Not yet.”

That was worse.

She shifted, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “Then why are you here?”

He glanced down at her. “Because you stopped breathing.”

Her brow creased. “What?”

“You were holding your breath,” he explained calmly. “Like someone expecting pain.”

She flushed, embarrassed and unsettled that he had noticed something so small.

“I’m fine,” she lied.

“I know,” he said. “You’re not used to anyone watching out for you.”

The words slipped past her defenses before she could stop them. “No one ever has.”

Dante’s expression changed, just slightly. Something unreadable passed through his eyes.

“Sleep,” he said more gently this time.

She hesitated, then spoke again. “If I fall asleep… will you still be here when I wake up?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“Because if anything happens to you,” he said, “it happens on my watch.”

That was not a promise. It was a claim.

Her eyelids finally grew heavy, exhaustion pulling her under despite the fear. The last thing she remembered before sleep took her was Dante still sitting there, silent and unmoving, like a guard rather than a man.

She woke to sunlight.

For a brief, blissful moment, she forgot where she was.

Then reality crashed back in.

Aruna sat up quickly, scanning the room. Dante was gone. The other door was closed now. Panic flared in her chest until she noticed the sound of running water coming from the bathroom beyond.

She exhaled slowly.

Get a grip.

She slid out of bed and walked toward the window. The city stretched out below, distant and unreal. This was not her world. It never had been.

A knock sounded at the door.

She jumped. “Yes?”

A woman stepped inside, elegant and composed, dressed in black. Her hair was tied back neatly, her expression professional but not unkind.

“My name is Mira,” the woman said. “I work for Mr. Ravelino.”

Aruna nodded cautiously. “Okay.”

“I brought you clothes,” Mira continued, gesturing to the bags in her hands. “And breakfast, if you’d like.”

“That’s… thank you.”

Mira placed everything neatly on the table. “Mr. Ravelino asked me to tell you that he will see you after you eat.”

“See me for what?” Aruna asked.

Mira met her gaze. “To explain things.”

That did not sound reassuring.

After Mira left, Aruna sat down and stared at the food. She realized then how hungry she was. She ate slowly, forcing herself to keep calm. Panic would only make her careless.

When she finished, she changed into the clothes Mira had brought. Simple, comfortable, nothing provocative. That alone told her something. Dante was controlling, yes, but he was deliberate.

Another knock came.

“Come in,” she said.

Dante entered, freshly showered, looking impossibly composed. He gestured for her to sit.

“You slept,” he noted.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice,” he said. “Even when all the options are bad.”

She folded her hands together. “You said you would explain.”

“Yes.”

He sat across from her, resting his forearms on his knees. “Your boss is dead.”

Her breath caught. “What?”

“He tried to sell you twice in one night,” Dante continued calmly. “That was a mistake.”

“You killed him?” she whispered.

“I ordered it,” he corrected. “There’s a difference.”

Her stomach churned. “Because of me?”

“Because of what he knew,” Dante said. “And because of what he did.”

She struggled to process that. Guilt crept in, unwanted and heavy. “I didn’t ask for that.”

“I know,” he replied. “But actions have consequences, even unintended ones.”

She looked up at him. “Am I next?”

“No.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you’re not the target,” he said.

Her pulse quickened. “Then who is?”

“Whoever made sure your mother never left that operating room.”

The room seemed to tilt.

“My mother died in surgery,” Aruna said slowly. “It was an accident.”

Dante’s eyes held hers steadily. “No,” he said. “It wasn’t.”

Her chest tightened painfully. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” he replied. “Because that hospital belongs to one of my rivals.”

The words hit her harder than any slap.

“You’re lying,” she said, standing abruptly. “You’re trying to scare me.”

“I don’t need to scare you,” Dante said quietly. “I need you alive.”

Tears burned in her eyes. “Why would anyone do that to her? She was nobody.”

“That’s what you think,” he said. “And that’s what they wanted you to think.”

Her voice shook. “Then tell me the truth.”

“I will,” he replied. “But not all at once.”

She laughed bitterly. “Of course not.”

“Until I know who is watching you,” Dante continued, “you stay here. You follow my rules.”

“And if I don’t?”

He stood, towering over her.

“Then the people who killed your mother won’t hesitate to finish the job,” he said.

Her knees felt weak.

“You said I needed protection because of you,” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“And now you’re telling me I need protection because of them.”

Dante looked down at her.

“You need protection,” he said, “because you’re standing at the center of a war you didn’t know existed.”

Her throat tightened. “And you’re what? My shield?”

“No,” he replied coldly.

“Then what are you?”

His gaze darkened, intense and unwavering.

“I’m the reason they haven’t come for you yet,” Dante said.

“And the reason they will.”