CHAPTER 7

With a hissing sound, wind gushed into her room. The chill breeze descended on her skin; she felt the cold but was too deep in her thoughts to get up and close the window. Aria looked pale, her eyes red with dark circles beneath them. With a routine of crying, sleeping, and waking up only to continue crying for forty-eight hours, it wasn’t a surprise. And her mother failing to convince her father meant she was doomed.

Click.

Her door slid open.

“Bella,” Aunt Lissa called. eyes laced with sympathy she took heavy strides forward and sat on the edge of the bed. “Love, you still haven’t eaten since yesterday,” she said, caressing Aria’s hair slowly. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but just know I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”

But Aria just lay there quietly, tears sliding down her cheeks onto her pillow.

“Aria, you have to be strong, and you have to know that your dad loves you.”

“He doesn’t,” Aria muttered. Forcing her weak limbs to move, she sat up, legs crossed, her mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Don’t say that, love. His daughters have always been his first priority,” Aunt Lissa mumbled, wiping tears off Aria’s face.

“Then why is he forcing me to get married, Aunt?” Aria cried, fresh tears rushing down.

“It’s complicated, love.”

“Is it?” Aria blinked, wiping the blur of tears from her eyes. “Because the hideous stories about Dante aren’t. And now I’m supposed to just marry him and pretend to be okay with it?”

“No one is asking you to pretend. But at times in life, you have to face some problems head-on. Since you know there is no running away from this now, why not act like a grown-up and look at the positive side of it?”

Aria blinked, her aunt’s words echoing in her head again. There is no running away from it. Aunt Lissa—Uncle Roberto’s wife—went on and on with her traditional advice while Aria’s mind flew elsewhere.

Actually, I can. And I should. But that would mean I’d have to fly out of Italy, or else Dad will find me… Argh, this is absurd, but it’s the only way out of this. God, my virginity… no, no, no way my first time—my choice—belongs to a man I don’t love. Fuck. But Mom needs me.

“…Should I bring you lunch?” were the only words that finally met her eardrums.

Aria simply nodded, her eyes holding a flicker of hope. Aunt Lisa got up and exited the room.

Mom loves me. She would understand. If Dad won’t let me have the normal life I fantasize about, I’ll go search for it.

……….. 

The Vallenis Estate

Dante took another sip from his glass of tequila, seated with his cousins—Victor and Matteo—and relatives—Enrico and Alessio—inside the Vallenis club. Dante sighed, leaning back as he rested his head on the cushion, eyes shut.

Dante was the kind of man who moved before he thought, driven by impulse and sheer force rather than reason. Once he wanted something, he would claw through every boundary—moral, legal, or personal—to claim it, without giving a fuck about the mess he might leave behind. Paranoia coiled tightly around his mind; he saw betrayal in every glance, threat in every whisper, and trusted no one but himself. His temper was a fuse that burned too fast. With his elder brother—the only person he normally listened to—not around to keep him in check, he exploded at the slightest provocation, making people step carefully around him, knowing one wrong word could ignite the storm he barely kept contained.

“You good?” Victor asked, turning to him.

Dante’s eyes crept open. “Yeah,” he responded, sitting up.

Alessio snapped his fingers, and five ladies were already approaching their seats.

“No ladies today, please,” Dante shrugged.

“Wow, wow. Don’t tell me you’re already preserving yourself for her,” Enrico raised a brow as he refilled his empty glass, making the rest chuckle—except Dante. “Thought the marriage is in the next five days,” Enrico added.

“Yes, that’s what I heard,” Matteo breathed. “Come on, let’s have fun like always. Once you get married, who knows—maybe she won’t allow you to hang out with us.”

Dante raised his head slightly, planting a stern gaze on Matteo.

“Relax, dude,” Matteo whispered, raising his arms in surrender. “You should be happy. We all saw her the other day—she’s fucking hot, cute, and she’s just twenty years old. Come to think of it, there’s a high possibility she’s still a virgin.”

With a wide smile, he stressed the last word. They all hummed at the thought. Dante picked up his glass and downed the rest of its contents. Squeezing his face at the burning sensation of the tequila, he sighed.

“It’s kind of true, Dante,” Victor said with a mischievous smile. “You got your revenge by killing the first daughter, and now the second one is going to be your whore. You’ve hit the jackpot, bro.”

Dante’s brows knitted as he scooped up the bottle of tequila and leaned back into his chair. He glanced at Victor beside him.

That’s the problem. Yeah, she’s fucking beautiful and cute, but it still wouldn’t make sense. Her dad’s men killed Nicolas. It’s harder than these fools think.

“But looking at it from a positive point of view, this is the perfect time to scoop the Deca Familia into our control,” Alessio whispered with a straight face. Their smiles died; every eye turned to him.

Alessio leaned forward, and so did the rest—except Dante.

“If Dante gets married to a D’Amore and gets on their good side or something like that, no mafia group would want to stand against the combined force of the two strongest mafia families in Italy. Even the Deca Familia would think twice before taking action.”

Dante’s eyes lit up and he sat up, placing the bottle back on the table.

“Fool,” Enrico cursed, leaning back in disappointment. Victor hissed, rolling his eyes.

“Seriously, it’s really possible,” Alessio insisted.

It fucking is. Dante smiled.

“Okay, let’s say it is possible,” Enrico giggled. “How do you plan to make enemies of decades work as allies? Bro, you only took one bottle and you’re already spilling nonsense. That’s poor of you.”

They all burst into laughter.

A smirk slowly built on Dante’s lips.—That’s it. This marriage was the key.