Chapter 3

Raven's pov

Chapter 3 — The Butcher Himself

The red silk clung to me like a secret I didn’t ask to keep.

Every step I took echoed through the marble-floored corridor of the old manor, my heels sharp like gunshots. The Vitali estate was as pretentious as I expected,dark stone, velvet drapes, and chandeliers that looked like they’d seen more blood than light. Fitting.

This was the domain of the man they called The Butcher.

My future husband.

I adjusted the slit of my dress slightly, revealing a dagger strapped to my thigh,not because I needed it, but because I wanted him to see it. Let him know I wasn’t coming here soft, not even for one second.

Two guards opened the double doors ahead of me.

He was already inside.

Leon Vitali stood near the bar, sleeves rolled, dark tie loosened like he had the luxury of casualness. He turned when he heard me, eyes like sharpened steel dragging over every inch of me.

And he smiled, a smile that made him more attractive.

Leon Vitali was an attractive man, some might say he looked just like a Greek god.

The fucking audacity.

“Raven Caruso,” he said, like my name tasted expensive. “You wore the dress.”

I held his gaze, unreadable. “I was already bleeding when it arrived. Seemed appropriate.”

I didn't add that my father made me wear it, i don't need him to know how much control my father has over me.

He laughed. Low. Dangerous. “How does it fit?”

“Like an insult.”

“Good,” he said. “I was hoping it’d sting.”

I stepped further into the room, aware of how he watched my movements like a predator studying something unfamiliar,beautiful, but possibly deadly. I didn’t offer my hand. Didn’t sit. I’d give him nothing first.

“You went through a lot of effort to send me a dress,” I said. “Six men. A fight. Blood. Broken ribs. Was it meant to scare me?”

“No,” he said simply. “It was meant to see what you’d do.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And?”

He stepped closer, unhurried. “You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t run. And you didn’t die. You impressed me.”

“I didn’t come to impress you.”

He smirked. “Everyone comes to impress someone, Raven.”

I turned my head, jaw tight. He was already in my skin and he knew it.

Leon gestured to the dinner table, set for two. “Eat. Talk. Threaten me later.”

I considered bolting,but then I thought of my father, his cold voice still ringing in my ears: Seal the marriage. Earn his trust. Then destroy him from within.

So I sit.

The food was untouched. Our words were the real weapons.

“You know what this is, don’t you?” I asked.

“A power play. A game. A trap.” He

shrugged. “An invitation to war, dressed in white.”

“I’m not interested in wearing white.”

“You’d look better in red anyway.”

His eyes lingered on my lips when he said it, and my pulse betrayed me,just a flicker. Just enough.

I leaned in, elbows on the table. “Tell me something, Leon. Why agree to marry your enemy’s daughter?”

He considered me. “Because alliances are temporary. Fear lasts longer. And nothing scares a man more than realizing the person he trained to kill… can be taken from him.”

I didn’t flinch, but I felt the cut.

“And what about you?” he asked. “Why agree to be mine?”

“I didn’t agree,” I said softly. “I was ordered.”

“Do you always follow orders?”

I gave him a crooked smile. “Only when disobedience is boring.”

He laughed again. This time, something flickered in his expression. Curiosity. Maybe even caution.

Leon Vitali wasn’t used to being matched.

Good.

He stood slowly, walking around the table. I didn’t move. He stopped behind me, just out of reach.

“I could break you,” he murmured near my ear.

“I could gut you,” I replied, voice cool.

He moved even closer, until I could feel his breath on my neck. “Then maybe we’ll make a perfect pair.”

I turned, facing him now. Our mouths were inches apart. He was taller, broader,but not more dangerous. Not to me. I’d been raised by devils. I knew how to dance with one.

“You think this is chemistry,” I said. “It’s a countdown.”

“Tick,” he whispered.

My body tensed, instincts flaring,and still, I didn’t move away. I let him look at me. Let him want.

Then I stepped back. Gave him a smile sharp enough to slice skin.

“You’ll never own me, Leon Vitali.”

“No,” he said. “But I’ll carve my name into you anyway.”

I left before he could see how deeply that shook me.

The night air outside burned against my flushed skin. I climbed into the waiting car, told the driver nothing, and stared at the window as we drove. The city blurred, and all I could see was his face.

Leon Vitali was everything I was told he’d be,cold, cruel, calculated.

Sexy.

But he was also… watchful. Clever. Controlled in a way that scared me more than rage ever could.

Because a man like him didn’t waste movement.

Didn’t waste bullets.

Didn’t waste women.

If I wasn’t careful, I wouldn’t marry the Butcher.

I’d become one of his victims.