CHAPTER THREE

Two years later.

“Elena.”

Her father’s voice stopped her just as she reached the dining room doors.

Elena turned slowly, medical textbooks pressed against her chest. “Yes, Father?”

Mr. Riccardo lowered the newspaper in his hands, his expression already carrying disapproval.

“You spend too much time studying.”

Elena resisted the urge to sigh.

“I’m in medical school.”

“You are a woman,” he replied coldly. “Not a man preparing for war.”

Her jaw tightened slightly.

“In our world, women do not need to bury themselves in books. Your duty is to strengthen this family, not exhaust yourself chasing ambition.”

Elena looked down quietly, masking the anger rising inside her.

Because arguing never changed anything.

Not in this house.

Not in the mafia world.

Her father folded the newspaper carefully before continuing.

“Dante Francesco attends the same university now.”

Elena froze internally.

“I expect you to grow closer to him.”

There it was.

The real reason for the conversation.

“Our family’s position is weakening,” her father admitted grimly. “An alliance with the Francescos would restore power to the Riccardo name.”

Marriage.

Of course.

Elena already knew where this was going.

“You are eighteen now,” her father continued. “Old enough to understand your responsibilities.”

Elena forced herself to nod obediently.

“Yes, Father.”

But inside?

She wanted to scream.

Because nobody cared what she wanted.

Nobody cared that every time she heard the Francesco name, she thought of only one person.

Roberto.

—

The university medical laboratory smelled strongly of antiseptic and chemicals as students moved between steel tables and anatomy models.

“Elena!”

She looked up just in time to see Dante Francesco approaching her with his usual effortless charm.

At twenty, Dante had grown even more attractive over the years. His smile came easily, his confidence even easier.

Unlike Roberto’s darkness—

Dante felt warm.

Safe.

“Elena Riccardo in my laboratory?” Dante placed a hand dramatically against his chest. “I’m honored.”

She laughed softly despite herself. “You say that every time.”

“Because it remains true every time.”

Before she could answer, Dante pulled a small black gift bag from behind his back.

“Happy birthday.”

Elena blinked in surprise. “You remembered?”

“I remember everything about you.”

Something about the way he said it made guilt twist faintly inside her chest.

Dante had been patient with her for years now.

Kind.

Loyal.

Everything a girl should want.

And yet…

He still wasn’t Roberto.

“I actually needed to talk to you,” Elena started carefully.

“So do I.” Dante smiled easily. “Meet me after class?”

Her stomach tightened immediately.

This was it.

He was going to confess.

And she needed to end this before her father forced things further.

“…Okay.”

—

The alley behind the university was quiet by evening.

Elena spotted Dante leaning casually against the wall the moment she arrived.

“You came,” he said softly.

“You sounded serious.”

“I am.”

Something shifted in his expression then.

For once, Dante Francesco looked nervous.

And before Elena could react—

He stepped forward and gently brushed her hair aside.

“Elena…”

Her breath caught.

Then slowly, Dante pulled a silver necklace from his pocket.

The deep red gemstone hanging from it looked almost unnatural beneath the fading sunlight.

Beautiful.

Dark.

Dangerous.

“I saw this at home,” Dante admitted quietly. “And immediately thought of you.”

Before Elena could respond, he stepped closer and fastened the necklace around her throat carefully.

The second the stone touched her skin—

A sharp chill rushed through her entire body.

Elena stiffened instantly.

The air around her suddenly felt heavier.

Colder.

For one terrifying moment, she could have sworn the necklace pulsed against her skin like a heartbeat.

Alive.

“Elena?”

She blinked quickly, forcing herself back to reality.

Dante smiled faintly. “You okay?”

“…Yeah.”

But she wasn’t.

Something about the necklace felt wrong immediately.

Elena touched the red stone nervously before finally gathering the courage to speak.

“Dante, I need to tell you something.”

His smile faded slightly.

“You’re important to me,” Elena continued softly, “but I don’t think I can give you what you want.”

Pain flickered briefly across his face.

And Elena hated herself for it.

“I don’t want to lead you on—”

Dante suddenly looked past her shoulder.

And froze.

All warmth disappeared from his expression instantly.

“Elena,” he interrupted quietly, “my brother is here.”

Her heartbeat stumbled violently.

Roberto.

After two years, his name still affected her this easily.

Slowly, Elena turned toward the dark car parked near the entrance of the alley.

Black windows.

Engine running.

Watching.

She couldn’t see inside.

But somehow she felt him there.

Dante stepped back immediately. “I should go.”

“Dante wait—”

“Happy birthday, Elena.”

Without another word, he walked toward the waiting car.

The back door opened briefly before closing again seconds later.

Then the vehicle disappeared into the night.

Leaving Elena alone in the alley with cold air brushing against her skin and the strange necklace resting heavily against her chest.

And no matter how hard she tried to deny it—

Her heart had started racing the moment she heard Roberto’s name.