CHAPTER 6: The Signing

Isabella

Hour forty-seven.

Isabella stood outside the gleaming glass tower that housed Valentino Holdings, staring up at the building that seemed to scrape the sky. Fifty-three floors of steel and glass and power. Dante's legitimate empire, built on the bones of his criminal one.

She was wearing her only good dress, a simple navy sheath that her mother had bought her for college graduation five years ago. It was slightly too tight now, the fabric straining across her hips, but it was all she had. Her dark hair was pulled back in a neat bun, her hands scarred from kitchen work clasped tightly around the leather folder containing the contract.

The contract she was about to sign.

"You can still walk away," she whispered to herself.

But that was a lie. She'd made her choice the moment Marco called to confirm the meeting. She'd made it when Maria held her and told her to survive. She'd made it the second she realized there was no other way to save Sofia.

Isabella took a deep breath and walked through the revolving doors.

The lobby was all marble and chrome, with a massive chandelier hanging from the cathedral ceiling. Security guards in sharp suits flanked the elevator banks. Everything screamed money and power and a world Isabella had no business entering.

"Ms. Romano?"

She turned to find a young woman in a crisp white blouse and black pencil skirt, her blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail. Her smile was professional but warm, her blue eyes friendly.

"I'm Claire, Mr. Valentino's assistant. He's expecting you. Please, follow me."

Isabella's legs felt like water as she followed Claire to a private elevator. The woman used a keycard to access it, and they rode up in silence that felt suffocating. Isabella watched the numbers climb 42….43…. 44…..each floor taking her closer to a decision she couldn't take back.

The elevator opened directly into a reception area that was even more intimidating than the lobby. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked Manhattan, the city spread out like Dante's personal kingdom. Modern art hung on the Walls, pieces Isabella recognized from her mother's art history books, originals that probably cost more than Bella Notte's entire value.

"Mr. Valentino is in the conference room with his attorney," Claire said. "Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?"

"No, thank you."

"This way, then."

Claire led her down a hallway lined with more expensive art, past offices where people worked at sleek desks, until they reached a set of double doors. She knocked once, then pushed them open.

"Ms. Romano, sir."

Isabella stepped inside, and her breath caught.

The conference room was massive, with windows on two walls and a table that could seat twenty people. But there were only two men present.

Dante sat at the head of the table in another perfect navy suit this time, with a crisp white shirt and no tie. His steel-gray eyes tracked her movement as she entered, his expression unreadable.

Beside him sat a man in his sixties with silver hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and the sharp look of someone who'd spent forty years practicing law. He stood when Isabella entered, offering a polite smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Ms. Romano," Dante said, his voice low and controlled. "This is Richard Chen, my attorney. He'll be explaining the contract terms before you sign."

Isabella's mouth went dry. "I thought we already discussed the terms."

"We discussed the broad strokes. Richard will ensure you understand the legally binding specifics. Sit."

It wasn't a request.

Isabella sank into the chair across from them, setting the leather folder on the table with shaking hands.

 Dante

Dante had seen fear in a thousand faces, but watching Isabella Romano walk into his conference room in that too-tight navy dress, with her hair pulled back and her chin raised in defiance despite the terror in her eyes, something twisted in his chest.

She looked like she was walking to her own execution.

Maybe she was.

"Ms. Romano," Richard began, his voice smooth and professional, "I've reviewed the marriage contract Mr. Valentino has proposed. Before we proceed, I need to ensure you understand several key points."

"I understand it's a business arrangement," Isabella said tightly. "One year. I play his wife. He pays my debts and my sister's education."

"Those are the basics, yes. But the legal ramifications are more complex." Richard opened his own copy of the contract, flipping to a highlighted section. "First, this is a legally binding marriage. You'll sign a marriage license in addition to this contract. In the eyes of the law, you'll be Mrs. Dante Valentino."

Isabella's face paled slightly. "I thought….I assumed it would be fake."

"The marriage is real," Dante said. "The temporary nature is what's private. As far as the state of New York is concerned, we'll be husband and wife."

"Which means," Richard continued, "you'll have certain legal rights and responsibilities. Community property, for instance. Though Mr. Valentino has ensured his assets are protected through a prenuptial agreement built into this contract."

"Of course he has," Isabella muttered.

Richard's lips twitched like he was suppressing a smile. "The contract also includes strict confidentiality clauses. You cannot discuss the true nature of this arrangement with anyone, not friends, not family, not your sister. If you violate confidentiality, Mr. Valentino has grounds to void the contract and demand immediate repayment of all debts."

Isabella's eyes widened. "So I can't tell Sofia the truth?"

"No," Dante said flatly. "She believes this is a genuine romance. That's how it stays."

"But she's my sister….."

"And she's also a nineteen-year-old college student who can't keep a secret to save her life, if her social media is any indication." Dante leaned forward slightly. "One slip, one drunken confession to a roommate, and the whole arrangement falls apart. Can you guarantee she'd keep this quiet?"

Isabella's jaw clenched, but she didn't argue. They both knew she couldn't.

"Moving on," Richard said. "The residential requirements. You'll live with Mr. Valentino in his primary residence for the duration of the contract. You cannot maintain a separate residence or spend nights away without his explicit permission."

"So I'm a prisoner," Isabella said.

"You're a wife," Dante corrected. "Wives live with their husbands. It's what people expect."

"The contract also requires your presence at all family events, business functions, and social gatherings Mr. Valentino deems necessary for maintaining appearances," Richard continued. "You'll be expected to behave as a devoted spouse in public at all times."

"Define 'devoted,'" Isabella challenged.

Richard glanced at Dante, who nodded permission.

"Physical affection appropriate to a married couple. Hand-holding, embracing, kissing when the situation calls for it. Presenting a united front. Support Mr. Valentino's decisions publicly, even if you disagree privately."

"So I'm arm candy who smiles and keeps her mouth shut."

"You're a partner who understands discretion," Dante said, his voice hardening. "I don't need arm candy, Isabella. I need someone smart enough to navigate my world without getting herself killed. Someone who can handle herself at a charity gala or a family dinner without embarrassing me. Can you do that, or should we end this now?"

The challenge hung in the air.

Isabella met his gaze, gold flashing in her brown eyes. "I can do it."

"Good." Dante gestured to Richard. "Continue."

 Isabella

Isabella's heart hammered as Richard flipped to another section.

"The contract includes a termination clause," he said. "After twelve months from the date of signing, the marriage will be dissolved through an uncontested divorce. Mr. Valentino will handle all legal fees and ensure the process is quick and amicable."

"What if I want out sooner?" Isabella asked.

"You can't," Dante said bluntly. "Twelve months. No exceptions. No early termination unless I choose to void the contract, which I won't do unless you violate the terms."

"So I'm trapped for a year."

"You're committed for a year. There's a difference."

Richard cleared his throat. "There's also the matter of... intimate relations."

Isabella's face flushed hot. "We discussed this. He said….."

"I said I don't force women," Dante interrupted. "That stands. But the contract requires us to maintain the appearance of a physical relationship. That means sharing a bedroom. Sharing a bed. Being comfortable with proximity and casual touch."

"How casual?" Isabella's voice came out higher than she intended.

"I won't touch you sexually unless you want me to," Dante said, his steel-gray eyes never leaving hers. "But I will touch you. We'll sleep in the same bed. I might hold you during the night. We'll maintain physical closeness that makes our marriage believable. Can you handle that?"

Isabella swallowed hard. The thought of lying next to this dangerous, beautiful man every night made her skin prickle with something that definitely wasn't fear.

"Yes," she said.

"You're sure? Because once you sign, there's no going back. If you can't handle the physical proximity, tell me now."

"I can handle it."

Dante's eyes darkened slightly, like her answer pleased him in a way she didn't understand.

"The final point," Richard said, "is the compensation clause. Upon signing, your father's debt of $250,000 will be forgiven. All payments to Valentino Holdings will cease immediately. Additionally, Mr. Valentino will establish a trust fund for Sofia Romano covering all educational expenses plus $500,000 upon completion of her medical degree."

The numbers still made Isabella's head spin. Half a million dollars. Sofia's entire future is secured.

All she had to do was sell herself for twelve months.

"Do you have any questions, Ms. Romano?" Richard asked.

Isabella looked at the contract, then at Dante, who watched her with the intensity of a predator studying prey.

"If I sign this," she said slowly, "I'm really yours? For twelve months, I belong to you?"

"Completely," Dante said. "No other men. No divided loyalties. For one year, Isabella, you're mine in every way that matters."

The possessiveness in his voice should have terrified her. Instead, it sent heat racing down her spine.

"And after the year?"

"You walk away free. Rich. With your sister's future guaranteed and your restaurant saved."

It was everything she needed. Everything she'd fought for. The answer to three years of drowning in debt.

All it cost was herself.

Isabella picked up the pen Richard offered. Her hand shook as she positioned it over the signature line.

"Once you sign," Richard said quietly, "it's legally binding. You understand that?"

"I understand."

She pressed the pen to paper.

And froze.

This was it. The moment that would change everything. Once her name was on that line, she was Dante Valentino's wife. His possession. His business arrangement came with a bed and a ring and twelve months of pretending.

Could she really do this?

"Isabella." Dante's voice cut through her panic. "Look at me."

She did.

His steel-gray eyes pinned her in place, and for just a second, she saw something flicker in them. Not cruelty. Not coldness. Something almost like... understanding?

"You can still walk away," he said softly. "I won't stop you. But if you sign, I'll keep my word. Every promise in this contract, I'll honor. Your sister will never want for anything. Your restaurant will be protected. And you'll be under my protection. No one touches what's mine. Ever."

The words settled over her like a vow.

Isabella took a breath, and signed her name.

The moment the ink touched paper, Dante's hand covered hers. His skin was warm, his grip firm, his thumb brushing over her scarred knuckles with surprising gentleness.

He leaned close enough that she could smell his expensive cologne and see the flecks of darker gray in his eyes.

"You belong to me now," he whispered.