Alle Kapitel von Bound to the Devil I Wed: Kapitel 1 – Kapitel 10

By evening, the entire house seemed to breathe around Luca De Santis.Elena had never seen anything quite like it. Men more powerful than ministers had crossed Vittorio Moretti's threshold before, some of them bloodstained beneath their civility, but none had altered the atmosphere of the estate so completely. Luca did not speak loudly. He did not throw his weight about the room. He simply occupied space with a kind of ruthless certainty that made everyone else seem arranged around him.Even her father.That unsettled Elena more than she expected.She noticed it during the formal conversation in the west salon after introductions were done and refreshments brought in. Vittorio took the chair opposite Luca near the fireplace. Serafina and Bianca sat to one side like ornaments in silk and diamonds. Elena was placed a little apart on a cream settee, close enough to be observed and too far to belong.No one asked whether she preferred tea or coffee.A maid chose tea for her and placed the

Serafina folded another invitation. "See that you do not. The press will be present outside the cathedral, whether invited or not. I will not have photographs of a weak-looking bride circulated through the city." Weak-looking bride. Elena almost laughed at the absurd precision of the insult. Instead she stepped down when permitted, careful not to disturb the pinned fabric, and allowed the assistants to guide her behind the screen for the gown to be removed. She stood in her chemise while hands unfastened pearl buttons and peeled lace from her skin. One of the younger assistants, perhaps no older than seventeen, whispered as she loosened a sleeve, "You look lovely, signorina." Elena turned her head. The girl was avoiding her eyes, speaking into the fragile privacy of service, where kindness had to be quiet to survive. "Thank you," Elena whispered back. The girl flushed and said nothing more. That afternoon, Vittorio summoned Elena to the study again. By then she had

The first time Elena saw Luca De Santis kill a man, he did not raise his voice. That was what stayed with her later. Not blood, though there was blood. Not the crack of the gunshot, though it tore through the warehouse silence hard enough to make her flinch. Not even the body hitting the floor. It was the silence beforehand, and the silence after - the dreadful certainty of a man who did not hesitate because hesitation had long ago been burned out of him. But that came at the end of the evening. The beginning started with his sister. Three days after the rain-soaked visit to the library, the De Santis family sent word that Elena was expected for dinner at one of their smaller residences in the hills outside the city. Not the main house where she would live after the wedding, but a private villa where Luca sometimes hosted family away from business eyes. The invitation had not come from him. It had come from Adriana De Santis. Serafina read the cream card at break

When the meal ended, they withdrew to the terrace room for coffee. The doors to the garden were open to let in the cooler night air. Somewhere below the slope of the hill, the city shimmered in scattered gold. Crickets sang in the hedges. Adriana stood near the balustrade speaking with Elena about the villa's history when Camilla drifted toward Luca. Elena noticed it only because Camilla changed when she moved near him. Her laugh softened. Her shoulders tilted. Every gesture became just a shade more feminine, more intimate, more practiced. She touched his arm as she spoke. It was light. Barely there. But Luca looked down at her hand as if it were something unpleasant placed on him without permission. He did not step back at once. He simply removed her hand from his sleeve with calm, efficient finality, like a man clearing an object from his path. "No," he said. Just that. Not harsh. Not embarrassed. Not indulgent. No. Camilla's face changed so quickly Elena might have misse