Chapter Four
361 Words
Alessandra
I stare at Dante, trying to process the words that just left his mouth.
A marriage.
I expected a power play, a threat, maybe even an ultimatum. But this?
“No.” The word leaves my lips before I can stop it.
Dante leans back in his chair, entirely unaffected. “Think it through.”
“I have.” I stand, gripping the edge of the table. “And the answer is no.”
Luca clears his throat, his eyes flicking between us. “Alessa—”
I whirl on him. “You knew about this?”
His jaw tightens. He doesn’t answer, and that’s answer enough.
A sharp laugh escapes me, bitter and disbelieving. “Unbelievable.”
I turn back to Dante. He watches me with that unreadable, ice-cold expression. I want to shake him, force some kind of reaction from him, but I already know it won’t work.
“This isn’t a request,” he says smoothly.
“I don’t care.” I cross my arms. “You think you can just decide my future for me?”
His gaze darkens, and something shifts in the air between us. “This isn’t just about you.”
The weight of his words settles in my chest, pressing down like a vice. He’s right, and we both know it.
Strings
My father’s death left a power vacuum. The Romano family is weak, our enemies circling. The only thing keeping them at bay is the possibility that we might align with the Morettis. If I refuse this marriage, we lose that leverage. And in this world, weakness is fatal.
Dante stands slowly, stepping around the table until he’s standing just inches away. He’s taller than me, broader, his presence suffocating.
“You can hate me all you want,” he murmurs. “But you know this is the only way.”
I clench my fists so tightly my nails bite into my palms. I hate that he’s right. I hate that I don’t have a choice.
But most of all, I hate that a part of me wonders what it would be like—to belong to a man like him.
- Writer
