CHAPTER THREE : Wedding Night

Ava:

The harsh slam of the door behind me was louder than it needed to be.

Dante didn’t say a word, he simply led me into a room in the empty small house, and after that he took a look around, then turned and left like I wasn’t even present.

A breath escaped my lips and my gaze finally trailed the small place I was in. It was then I realized how relatively small the house was. Definitely not a place anyone would expect an heir to a billion dollar empire to live in.

I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting but it definitely wasn’t this. This place wasn’t a villa or even a mansion, it didn’t look close to one either. It was just one narrow hallway from a small living room. And I noticed there wasn’t even a dining hall. You could watch the TV screen while standing at the island in the kitchen,

There were just two bedrooms in the house. I looked around the room he had left me in. It was completely empty except for a single bed, a nightstand and a dresser, with a small table and a chair by the window.

The man had more than enough money, and was rumored to have billions, yet he brought me here? I wasn’t even surprised.

Clutching my arms tightly, I pressed my lips together, before sitting on the bed, still wearing my white wedding dress. I stared at the floor and hugged my arms around myself, letting the reality of my situation slowly settle into a mold in my head.

This was never the kind of life I wanted for myself.

Just by sitting here all alone I could already imagine what life with Dante Rossi would be like. The man clearly didn’t want me in his space, so he brought me to a house where the floors creaked every time you moved on them. And then he left me here. There was absolutely no one else in the house but me.

Rumors floated into my mind, ones I always used to ignore whenever Ivy or anyone whispered about him.

“Dante Rossi has a new girl every month. It’s either a blonde or a redhead, but he seems to prefer blondes more.”

“I heard he doesn’t do commitments. He likes his women disposable.” Paparazzi had splashed pictures of him with different models and actresses more times than I could count or even remember.

He always got bored of his women after a couple of weeks, recalling this spiked an idea in my head.

If the man usually got bored of women, then when he returned I would make an agreement with him. Let’s keep this marriage for just three to four months, and then decide to divorce. The man clearly doesn’t want to breathe the same air as me, so it shouldn’t be difficult to come to an agreement.

The whole wedding charade was nothing but a farce to keep the merger between our families.. And not just that, maybe he had forgotten but he wasn’t supposed to get married to me, but to my sister.

Minutes passed, and my gaze continuously darted to the door. I was certain he wouldn’t probably come here for the night, so I would have to speak to him the next day.

Maybe he’d already made arrangements to stay elsewhere tonight. With that in mind, my back finally hit the bed and I gazed up at the ceiling for almost an hour before somehow dozing off.

I had barely gone deep in sleeping when I heard the sound of the door being creaked open as someone stepped inside. The sound of the door being aggressively slammed yanked me out of the sleep I had almost drifted into.

With a frown, I turned my gaze towards the door, and caught sight of Dante who stood at the doorway for a long moment, staring hard into the room like he was contemplating on coming in or not.

His gaze slid over to me, and settled on the wedding dress which I was still wearing. His brows furrowed tightly, and he stepped inside, shutting the door closed. But that wasn’t what made my heart drop to my stomach. What did was when I heard the key of the door click as he locked it from inside.

My eyes widened, “Why…why are you locking the door?”

He didn’t answer me, instead he stepped inside, and started with his cufflinks. My heart thudded harder in my chest and I immediately sat upright on the bed.

Dante placed both cufflinks on the small table in the room, before finally sparing me a gaze as he said, “You should change,” He said flatly, staring down the dress on me, “I’ll have someone bring your things in the morning.”

He reached for his tie and tugged it off. I pulled the sheets closer to me, and blinked at him, “What are you doing?”

He undid the buttons of his shirt, completely ignoring me like I didn’t just ask him a question, “What does it look like?” his deep voice sounded deliberately low.

“You are not sleeping here.” I told him, like the place was mine to begin with.

Dante scoffed at my words as he walked over to the closet, “I am,” he said simply, toeing off his shoes. “This is my room. And that is my bed.”

“Then I’ll sleep somewhere else,” I said immediately, scurrying off the edge of the bed.

Dante’s shoulders tensed, and he brushed a finger through his dark hair, before finally turning over to me, his eyes were sharp and dark like his patience ticked with the clock, but I was making it tick faster the more I spoke to him. “In your wedding dress?” His brows pulled together, “There’s nowhere else in the house with a bed. Unless you want the cold floor. Or the couch with a spring that’ll stab your spine everytime you move.”

My brows tightened together, I couldn’t choose any of that, but that didn't mean I wanted to sleep on the same bed with the same man that promised to make my life hell for not dying. What if he suddenly decided to kill me overnight? I’d be totally defenseless.

I soon realized he had no intention of leaving the room, “Dante, I’m not sleeping with you.”

He slowly unbuttoned his white sleeve and a dark, low, chuckle rumbled from his chest, “You seem to have forgotten it’s our wedding night.” He emphasized the last word.

I swallowed, “I wouldn’t have forgotten so easily if you hadn’t promised to make my life a living hell for as long as we are married.”

He ignored my words, and finally pulled off his shirt, baring his naked chest to my eyes as he folded his shirt and placed it neatly on the closet. My heart dropped with a thud when he reached for his belt.

“Dante!”

The man cursed under his breath, before he turned to me, this time around he didn’t say a word as he made his way over to where I was sitting on the bed. My eyes widened as he stalked over to me with dark eyes like a predator hunting after its next meal.

I immediately backed away as he got to the edge of the bed, but right before I could slip off the soft mattress and land on the floor, he leaned forward, and his large hands wrapped around my ankle.

His dark rimmed eyes met mine, “Can you fucking shut up for the night and let me think properly?” His hands around my ankle tightened.

Words failed me at that moment, so I simply nodded slowly.

His jaw clenched, perhaps from how easily I agreed to his words. His fingers tightened just a little and his eyes flicked to my mouth, then back to my eyes like he was at war with himself.

A moment passed and his heated stare remained on me, while my heart pounded harshly in my chest.

Dante cursed under his breath, “I can’t even fucking look at you without seeing her,” He ground out bitterly, “And it drives me insane because you don’t look anything like her.” His grip on my ankle tightened with every word.

I wanted to tell him that it was a lie. People could hardly tell the difference between Ivy and I, we were alike in every way possible. The only difference was probably the mole I have below my right eyes, while she had hers on the left, a little lower, and was just as small as mine. No one would look at us long enough to notice such a small detail. But at that moment, I couldn’t say a damn word.

The man was so close that I could perceive the scent of his cologne.

He was about to say something else, but then his gaze lowered to my cleavage, and it lingered for a moment before it flicked to the bruise blooming near my collarbone. I tried to shift away from his heated stare on my bare skin, but the movement made the strap of my dress slip slightly from my shoulders.

He swallowed and his jaw tightened as he looked up. “You're hurt,” he muttered, almost to himself.

I bit my lips absentmindedly, “It was from the accident.”

His gaze remained on mine as he nodded slowly, and I noticed the shift in his eyes, “I hated you for surviving,” he whispered, his voice dropping a decibel, “But I didn’t want you to die.”

I barely understood what he was saying, and I didn’t believe a word.

Dante looked entirely different from the person who stared at me dead in the eyes at the altar and promised to make me hate surviving while my sister died.

He was still holding my ankle, but his grip had softened and his thumb was now brushing lightly against the inside of it like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. His gaze dropped again to the bruise, then to the soft dip of my collarbone, and the air between us seemed to grow thicker.

“You should’ve died too.” His voice came out low, and guttural. “But you didn’t. And now I don’t know what the fuck to do with you.”

“Then you shouldn’t have gotten married to me.”

He looked up at my words, and nodded slowly, “Right. I shouldn’t have, but I needed a wife.”

“It could have been anyone but me. Anyone else but someone who would have been your sister in law.”

My words turned him silent for a moment, and he simply stared hard at me, “So you can get married to someone else and live a blissful life after ending your sister’s own?”

A low breath escaped my lips, “So this wasn’t just about the merger between your family and mine?” I asked carefully.

Dante’s response was sharp and honest, “Fuck no, it wasn’t.”

My brows furrowed at his words, I could barely comprehend what he was saying anymore. Because one, he wasn’t making any sense to me at all. And two, his bare chest was right in front of me and my gaze trailed the lines of his firm chest and abs.

Dante’s thumb brushed the inside of my ankle again, it was slow, but maddening in its gentleness. His gaze was fixed on the bruise near my collarbone, but then it moved lower to my cleavage like he couldn’t keep his eyes off my chest.

I could feel the sudden need hanging just right in the air between us.

He shifted, the bed dipped slightly as he leaned in, not enough to touch, just close enough that the scent of his skin reached me. Woodsmoke, leather, and something darker. His body heat was a living thing, sinking deep into my skin and urging me to arch my body closer.

I wasn’t supposed to want this man, But at that moment, it was just us two staring at each other. There was a way his dark eyes licked at my skin, urging me to do things I wasn’t supposed to even have in mind.

His fingers trailed up, from my ankle to my calf, drawing a line of fire beneath my skin. Until they reached the hem of my dress.

I sucked in a breath, but didn’t stop him, my line of vision focused on a small tattoo that trailed up his chest, ending just before his collarbone.

His eyes lifted then, meeting mine, and the look he gave me stripped me bare.

And I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until he reached out again and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

His hand trailed down to my jaw, and brushed against my neck, before sliding lower to my shoulder, then it paused at the strap of my dress that had slipped again.

I expected him to fix it and climb off me, so this heat would fade away, but he didn’t do that. Dante’s fingers skimmed it, tugged it lower, until the strap slid off completely and the fabric dipped enough to expose the curve of my breast.

His gaze dropped lower and his breath was hot againt my bare skin.

The reminder of my spineless behaviour permeated the air, and I was halfway from pushing the man and climbing off the bed, but he seemed to have caught the movement, because he leaned in closer, settling his legs between my thighs.

A gasp escaped my lips, “Dante, what do you think you’re doing?”

He just stared, his chest rising and falling like he was battling something inside himself.

“Punishing you for surviving,” That was all he said, and then his mouth was on mine.