No Choice

Cassandra woke to warmth.

She was tangled in Dante's arms, her head on his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath her ear. The silk sheets were cool against her skin. The room was dark, the curtains drawn against the early morning light.

For a moment, she forgot everything. Forgot the danger. The secrets. The fear. She just lay there, feeling safe.

Then it all came flooding back.

The key. The necklace. The proposal.

She slipped out of bed quietly, not wanting to wake him. Her feet were silent against the marble floor. She padded into the bathroom and closed the door.

Her reflection stared back at her. Dark circles under her eyes. Tousled hair. The necklace still around her throat.

Engaged, she thought. Fake engagement. To a man old enough to be my father.

She should be horrified. Should be running for the door.

Instead, she felt... something else. Something she couldn't name.

---

Dante woke to an empty bed.

His heart lurched. For a moment, panic seized him—she was gone. She'd left, like everyone else.

Then he heard water running in the bathroom. He relaxed, but the fear lingered.

She's still here, he told himself. She's still here.

He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He'd spent his whole life alone. Surrounded by people, but always alone. No one had ever stayed. No one had ever wanted to.

But Cassandra had stayed. She'd said yes to his proposal—fake as it was.

And now he didn't know what to do with that.

---

Breakfast was tense.

Cassandra sat across from Dante, her eyes fixed on her plate. She couldn't look at him. Couldn't think about last night. About the way he'd held her. The way he'd made her feel safe.

"Emma." His voice was soft.

She looked up.

"We need to talk about the gala," he said.

"The gala?"

"My father's birthday. The family is hosting a grand event. Everyone will be there—business associates, politicians, the media."

Cassandra's stomach dropped. "And I have to go."

"Yes." His eyes met hers. "This is our chance. Our chance to announce the engagement publicly. To make sure everyone knows you're under my protection."

She nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll go."

"You don't have to—"

"I said I'll go." Her voice was firmer than she felt. "This is the plan. I'm sticking to it."

Dante studied her for a long moment. Something flickered in his eyes—respect, perhaps. Or admiration.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

She didn't answer. She just picked up her fork and forced herself to eat.

---

Before the gala, Cassandra visited her grandmother.

Evelyn was in a small house on the outskirts of the city, guarded by Dante's men. She looked older, frailer. But her eyes were still sharp.

"Cassandra." Evelyn pulled her into a tight embrace. "I've been so worried."

"I'm fine, Gran. I'm okay."

Evelyn pulled back, her eyes searching Cassandra's face. "I've been watching the news. I know about the engagement."

Cassandra's throat tightened. "It's not real. It's just—it's a strategy. To keep me safe."

Evelyn was silent for a long moment. Then she smiled—a soft, knowing smile.

"Your mother would be so proud," she said. "And so am I."

Cassandra's eyes burned with tears. "I'm scared, Gran. I'm so scared."

"I know." Evelyn pulled her close again. "But you're brave. Braver than you know."

They sat together in the small kitchen, holding hands. Cassandra told Evelyn everything—the key, the necklace, the danger. She told her about Dante and the fake engagement.

When she finished, Evelyn squeezed her hands.

"Be careful," Evelyn said softly. "With your heart. This man—he's dangerous."

"I know."

"But he's also broken. Like you."

Cassandra looked at her grandmother. "What do you mean?"

Evelyn's eyes were sad. "I've seen the way he looks at you. The way he protects you. He's not just doing this for your mother, Cassandra. He's doing it for you."

Cassandra's heart ached. She didn't know what to say.

---

On the drive back to the mansion, Cassandra stared out the window.

The city blurred past. Lights. Buildings. People living their ordinary lives.

She thought about everything her grandmother had said. About Dante. About the way he looked at her.

And she realized something.

She didn't want this engagement to be fake.

She wanted it to be real.

"I want this to be real," she whispered.

Dante turned to look at her. "What?"

She met his eyes. "I want this engagement to be real. I don't want to pretend anymore."

Dante's jaw tightened. His hands gripped the steering wheel.

"Emma—"

Before he could finish, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. His face went pale.

"What is it?" Cassandra asked.

Dante looked up at her.

"There's been another attack. At the gala venue. They're targeting us. Targeting you."

Cassandra's blood ran cold.

"We need to go back," she said. "We need to warn everyone."

Dante nodded. He stepped on the gas, the car surging forward.

But in the back of her mind, one thought lingered.

I meant what I said. I want this to be real.