Chapter 4 : blood and betrayal

The guards yanked me out of bed before I could even steady my breath.

“Boss wants her,” one repeated, his voice flat and cold.

Rosa tried to block their way. “She’s done nothing wrong! She was asleep!”

One of them shoved her aside without looking. “Orders from the top.”

I struggled, panic clawing through my chest. “Where are you taking me?”

“To face the man you betrayed,” the other hissed, dragging me toward the hallway.

My heart pounded as I stumbled barefoot over the marble floors, the air thick with tension. Servants scurried away at the sight of us. Every face that looked my way was filled with fear.

When we reached Dante’s private office, the double doors swung open, revealing him behind his massive oak desk. He was dressed in black again, his tie gone, sleeves rolled to the elbows, veins visible in his forearms. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—those cold, merciless eyes—burned like wildfire.

“Leave us,” he said.

The guards released me and stepped out, shutting the doors with a heavy thud.

Silence fell.

He leaned back in his chair, watching me. “Two of my men are dead. One was my cousin. Someone slipped past the perimeter, planted explosives near the east wing, and nearly blew a hole through my family’s estate. Care to explain why that happened the same night you arrived?”

My mouth went dry. “I—I don’t know anything about that!”

He rose from his seat slowly, each step deliberate as he circled the desk. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Yes! I swear, I—”

“Then why,” he cut in, “did my guards find your window open? Why did they find a woman’s footprints leading away from it?”

My mind reeled. The intruder. The woman with the dagger. “It wasn’t me! Someone came into my room last night—she tried to attack me. I told you this!”

He was in front of me now, towering over me, his jaw tight. “Describe her.”

“Black hair. Red lips. Young. She said she used to stand where I’m standing now!”

For a moment, something flickered in his expression—recognition, maybe even fear—but it vanished just as fast.

He stepped closer until his breath brushed my cheek. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just said?”

I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Because,” he murmured darkly, “that woman is supposed to be dead.”

My heart skipped. “Dead?”

He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “Her name was Lucia Bianchi. My ex-fiancée. She betrayed me to my enemies. She tried to kill me once before. I put her in the ground myself.”

I froze. My stomach twisted. “You… killed her?”

He didn’t flinch. “I buried her with my own hands.”

The words made the room tilt. I shook my head. “Then how—how did she get into my room?”

“That’s what I intend to find out,” he growled, then snapped his fingers.

The door opened instantly, and his guards returned. One of them carried a black folder, thick with photographs. Dante grabbed it, flipping it open on the desk. He tossed a few images onto the floor in front of me—photos of men in suits, tattoos, weapons, a blood-red crest shaped like a serpent.

“The Bianchi family,” he said. “My enemies. If Lucia’s alive, she’s working with them again. And if they got to you, you’re their weapon.”

“I’m not their weapon!” I shouted, tears burning my eyes. “I didn’t ask to be here, Dante! You dragged me into your nightmare!”

He slammed a fist on the desk so hard the lamp rattled. “And now you’ll stay in it until I decide otherwise!”

I stumbled back, heart pounding. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” he hissed, “but I keep what’s mine.”

I glared at him through tears. “Then you’ll lose everything. Because whatever this is—it won’t last. I’d rather die than belong to you.”

For a second, he didn’t move. Then something in his eyes softened—barely. “Careful what you wish for, dolcezza. In my world, death listens.”

*******

The door burst open.

One of the guards stumbled in, blood on his shoulder. “Boss! The perimeter’s breached again—south wing this time!”

Dante turned sharply. “Seal the exits. Get her to the vault.”

Before I could react, a loud boom shook the walls. The chandelier above us shattered, raining glass. I screamed as Dante grabbed my arm and dragged me down behind the desk. The lights flickered, alarms blaring across the estate.

Gunfire erupted in the hallway—short, brutal bursts.

“Stay down,” Dante ordered, pulling a pistol from his belt.

I crouched low, trembling as he kicked the overturned chair aside and took cover.

The doors blew open a second later. Smoke filled the room. Three masked men stormed in with assault rifles.

Dante fired—two quick shots. One man fell instantly. Another ducked behind a pillar. Bullets ripped through the air, splintering the wood around us.

I covered my head, screaming.

Dante lunged forward, tackling one of them to the ground, the gun sliding across the floor toward me. My eyes widened. I reached for it, fingers brushing the cold metal.

Then—another voice. Soft. Familiar.

“Don’t.”

I turned.

Through the haze of smoke and shattered glass, she stepped in. Lucia. Alive. Her black hair clung to her face, her red lips curving into a cruel smile.

“Well, well,” she purred. “You look just as stupid as I did when I believed his lies.”

“Lucia,” Dante snarled, blood on his temple. “You should’ve stayed dead.”

She laughed—a cold, broken sound. “Oh, but I came back for you. For both of you.”

Before he could aim, Lucia raised her weapon. Time slowed. My breath hitched.

The barrel turned—not toward Dante—but toward me.

“No!” he shouted, lunging forward.

The shot rang out.

Pain exploded through my side, white-hot and blinding. I gasped, falling backward as the world spun.

“NO!” Dante roared, firing wildly.

Lucia ducked, disappearing through the smoke. The last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me was Dante kneeling beside me, his face twisted in rage and something I didn’t think he was capable of—fear.

He pressed a hand to my wound, blood soaking through his fingers. “Stay with me, cara mia,” he whispered hoarsely. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

My vision blurred. His voice faded.

And then—nothing.

******

When I opened my eyes again, I wasn’t in the Romano mansion.

I was in a dim, unfamiliar room—strapped to a hospital bed.

And standing over me wasn’t Dante.

It was Lucia.

She smiled, brushing a hand over my cheek.

“Welcome back, Mrs. Romano,” she whispered. “You’re in my world now.”

To Be Continued…