Chapter Three
443 Words
Chapter Three
Dante
The Romano girl isn’t what I expected.
I watch as she steps into the dimly lit lounge, shoulders squared, chin lifted. She’s dressed in all black—fitted coat, dark boots, her long espresso-brown hair pulled into a sleek knot. A picture of mourning. A picture of control.
But her eyes give her away.
Grief and fury burn in those amber depths, buried beneath a mask of composure. She’s trying to be untouchable. But I’ve seen enough broken people to know she’s barely holding it together.
She stops in front of me, her brother at her side. Luca Romano is a man I respect, if not trust. But his sister? She’s an unknown variable. And in this world, unknowns are dangerous.
I tip my glass in her direction. “Alessandra.”
Her expression doesn’t flicker. “Dante.”
Her voice is cool, measured. But I don’t miss the way her hands tighten into fists at her sides. She hates that she has to be here. That much is obvious.
I set my drink down, leaning forward. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
A muscle jumps in her jaw. “Are you?”
Luca shoots her a warning look, but I only smirk. “If I wanted your father dead, you’d know it.”
She doesn’t flinch. Impressive. “Then why are we here?”
“Because your family is weak, and mine is strong.” I let the words settle before I continue. “We both know what happens next. The sharks are circling. The wrong move, and you lose everything.”
Luca’s jaw tightens, but it’s Alessandra who speaks. “And let me guess. You have a solution.”
I smile. “A proposal, actually.”
Her eyes narrow. “What kind of proposal?”
I take my time, letting the tension build. Then I say the words that will change everything.
“A marriage.”
Silence.
Alessandra blinks, her breath hitching. “Excuse me?”
I don’t repeat myself. Instead, I watch as the realization sinks in.
Luca recovers first. “You want to marry my sister?”
“I want an alliance.” I meet Alessandra’s gaze. “And the best way to secure one is through blood and vows.”
Her lips part, then press into a thin line. She looks at her brother, searching for an out. But there isn’t one. We all know it.
This is how the world works.
She can fight it all she wants, but in the end, there’s only one choice.
And when she finally exhales, shoulders dropping, I already know her answer.
She just hasn’t admitted it yet.
- Writer
