CRIMSON IVY

Chapter 4: The First Morning

​Sloane woke up to the sound of a heavy rain lashing against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the master suite. For a moment, she forgot where she was, reaching out for the familiar threadbare blanket of her dorm room. Instead, her hand met silk sheets and a vast, empty space beside her. The scent of sandalwood lingered on the pillow—a reminder of the man who had stayed just long enough to watch her fall into an exhausted sleep before disappearing into the night.

​She sat up, her head throbbing. On the mahogany nightstand sat a black credit card and a new phone. Beside them was a folded note in sharp, jagged handwriting: Driver is downstairs. You have a 10:00 AM Law Seminar. Don’t be late. I don’t like my property being tardy.

​The word "property" burned. Sloane dressed in the simplest clothes she could find—a black turtleneck and jeans—refusing to touch the designer dresses hanging in the walk-in closet. She wanted to look like the girl she was before the contract, even if the gold weight on her left hand told a different story.

​When she stepped into the foyer, Dante was already there, leaning against the banister and looking through a series of documents. He looked up, his eyes tracing the line of her throat before settling on her face.

​"You're not wearing the Moretti diamonds," he noted, his tone dangerously neutral.

​"I'm going to school, Dante. Not a gala," Sloane snapped, walking toward the door.

​He moved faster than she expected, blocking her path. He reached out, his thumb dragging across her lower lip, his gaze dropping to the faint bite mark he had left there the night before.

​"Everyone on that campus needs to know who you belong to, Sloane. If you won't wear the jewels, wear my mark. Go to class. Study hard. But remember—at four o'clock, the car will be waiting. If you aren't in it, I’ll come get you myself. And I promise you, the whole University will watch how I bring my wife home."