Chapter eight

Dante pov

The doctor doesn’t sit down.

That’s the first sign something matters.

He stands near the desk, tablet in hand, posture professional but careful. People only get careful around me when they’re about to say something they don’t control.

I don’t tell him to speak.

I wait.

Silence has always made men honest.

“The results came back faster than expected,” he says finally.

I nod once.

Alicia sits beside me, legs crossed, hands folded neatly in her lap. She’s calm on the surface. Too calm. I recognize that stillness. It’s how people brace themselves.

“Start,” I say.

The doctor clears his throat. “Elara is healthy. No chronic illness. No genetic red flags.”

Alicia exhales softly, almost relieved.

I don’t react.

“And?” I ask.

He hesitates. Just a fraction of a second.

“And she’s fertile,” he continues. “Highly, actually. Hormone levels are optimal. Her body is… well-suited for conception and pregnancy.”

The words land clean. Clinical. Efficient.

Alicia’s fingers tighten together.

I lean back slightly, processing.

“Well-suited,” I repeat.

“Yes,” the doctor says quickly. “Medically speaking, she’s an excellent candidate.”

Candidate.

Not a woman. Not a girl.

Asset.

“When can it begin?” Alicia asks smoothly.

The doctor glances at me before answering. Smart.

“After one more confirmation test,” he says. “Routine. But assuming no complications soon.”

Soon.

That word has weight.

“Leave us,” I tell him.

The doctor doesn’t hesitate. He gathers his tablet and exits.

The door closes.

Silence stretches again.

Alicia turns to me, a smile already forming. “Well. That’s settled.”

“Is it?” I ask.

She tilts her head. “You needed certainty. You have it.”

I study her face. Composed. Controlled. But there’s something sharp underneath now. Something calculating.

“She’ll do her job,” Alicia continues. “And when it’s over, things return to normal.”

Normal.

A convenient word.

“She stays under supervision,” I say. “At all times.”

“Of course,” Alicia replies. “I’ll handle her.”

“No,” I say calmly.

Her smile tightens. “Dante”

“She answers me.”

A pause.

Then she nods once. “As you wish.”

But I catch the flicker of irritation she fails to hide.

After she leaves, I stand alone in the office.

The city stretches out below the windows. Alive. Loud. Indifferent.

Elara is suitable.

The word repeats in my head.

I didn’t expect relief.

I certainly didn’t expect the faint, unwelcome pressure in my chest that follows.

This was supposed to be simple.

A solution.

A timeline.

Instead, it feels like I’ve just set something in motion I can’t stop.

I don’t call for her.

That would imply impatience.

Instead, I go about my day meetings, calls, and numbers changing hands. Power moving as it always has.

But my mind keeps circling back.

Healthy. Fertile. Suitable.

By the time Luca steps into my office again, night has fallen.

“She’s asking questions,” he says.

“About what?”

“About what happens next.”

I consider that.

“Bring her.”

Elara enters cautiously, hands folded in front of her, eyes lowered. She’s dressed simply. No jewelry. No attempt to impress.

Good.

She stops a few feet away and waits.

“You know why you’re here,” I say.

“Yes, sir.”

“The results are in.”

Her breath stills.

“You’re healthy,” I continue. “There are no medical obstacles.”

Her shoulders sag slightly relieved, quick and unguarded.

“And,” I add, “you are capable of carrying a child.”

The relief disappears.

Replaced by something quieter. Heavier.

“Okay,” she says softly.

Not happy.

Not relieved.

Just accepting.

“You will begin preparations immediately,” I say. “Diet. Schedule. Restrictions.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You will not leave the property without permission.”

She nods.

“You will not discuss this arrangement with anyone.”

“Yes.”

I watch her carefully. Waiting for fear. Panic. Tears.

None come.

“What happens after?” she asks.

A direct question.

I respect that.

“That depends,” I say. “On your cooperation.”

She swallows. “And my sister?”

“She remains protected,” I reply. “As long as you do your part.”

Her jaw tightens, but she nods.

“Good,” I say. “You may go.”

She turns to leave.

“Elara.”

She stops.

“This is not a choice,” I remind her. “It’s an obligation.”

She meets my eyes for the first time.

“I know,” she says.

She leaves.

I don’t move for a long moment.

Luca shifts beside me. “She’s handling it well.”

“She has no choice.”

He studies me. “You’re handling it… differently.”

I glance at him. “Explain.”

“You didn’t threaten her.”

“I didn’t need to.”

Luca nods slowly.

Later that night, Alicia finds me in the sitting room.

“So,” she says lightly. “She’s suitable.”

“Yes.”

“She knows?”

“She knows enough.”

Alicia pours herself a drink. “Then things will finally move forward.”

“They will,” I agree.

She takes a sip, watching me over the rim of the glass. “You’re being careful with her.”

“I’m being precise.”

“Don’t mistake her obedience for loyalty,” Alicia warns. “Girls like her break.”

“Everyone breaks,” I reply. “That’s how you find their limits.”

Alicia smiles. “Just remember whose future this really is.”

I don’t respond.

After she leaves, my phone buzzes.

Unknown number.

I answer.

“Yes.”

Silence.

Then breathing.

Slow. Deliberate.

“You have something I want,” a voice says.

My grip tightens.

“Speak clearly,” I reply.

“The girl,” the voice continues. “The one you bought.”

The room goes cold.

“You have ten seconds,” I say.

“She’s valuable,” the voice says calmly. “More than you think.”

The line goes dead.

I stare at the phone.

Slowly, I smile.

Because now I understand.

Elara isn’t just suitable.

She’s leveraged.

And whoever just called me made one fatal mistake

They showed their hands.

I turn to Luca.

“Double the guards,” I say. “No one touches her.”

“What if they try?”

I pick up my gun.

“Then we remind them,” I say calmly, “what happens when people interfere with what belongs to me.”

Outside, the city keeps breathing.

Inside, something dangerous has begun.