CRIMSON IVY

Chapter 2: The Lion's Threshold

​The drive to the Moretti estate was a suffocating silence, punctuated only by the rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers. Sloane stared out the window of the black SUV, watching the familiar spires of the campus library disappear into the fog. Beside her, Dante was a silent volcano, radiating a heat that made the leather seats feel like they were melting. He didn't try to touch her, but his presence was a physical weight, pressing against her lungs until every breath felt like an achievement.

​When they pulled up to the iron gates of the estate, Sloane felt a cold dread settle in her marrow. This wasn't a home; it was a fortress of limestone and secrets. Men with holstered weapons stood at the perimeter, their eyes shielded by dark glasses even in the rain. They didn't see a girl; they saw a trophy.

​"You can fight this inside," Dante said, finally breaking the silence as the car came to a halt. "But out here, in front of my men, you will walk beside me. If you make me drag you, Sloane, I’ll make sure the first thing you lose in this house is your pride."

​He stepped out and opened her door, offering a hand that looked capable of crushing stone. Sloane ignored it, stepping out into the mud and rain with her head held high. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her break. Not yet.

​As they crossed the threshold, the heavy mahogany doors clicked shut behind them—a sound as final as a prison cell locking into place. The foyer was lit by a massive crystal chandelier that cast jagged shadows across the marble floor. Dante turned to her, his expression unreadable, stripping off his wet blazer to reveal the ink snaking up his forearms.

​"Welcome home, Mrs. Moretti," he mocked, the title sounding like a death sentence. "The dress is in the East Wing. The priest arrives at midnight. Try not to look like you’re going to a funeral, even if that's what this feels like."