Bound by His Revenge

Chapter Six – The First Escape Attempt

The mansion was beautiful, but beauty could be a prison too.

Sunlight spilled across silk curtains, chandeliers gleamed, and every corridor whispered wealth and power—but none of it belonged to me. Every corner, every locked door, every shadow reminded me that I wasn’t a guest here. I was properly.

Dante’s property.

Two days had passed since the wedding. Two days of silence, of suffocating tension, of his eyes following me like a predator watching prey. He had not touched me beyond what was necessary, but that didn’t soothe me. No, it was worse. His restraint was deliberate, a cruel promise of what was to come.

And I couldn’t stay here long enough to find out.

I stood by the window in the guest room that had become my cage. The garden below stretched like a painting—rows of roses, white marble fountains, neatly trimmed hedges. At the edge of the estate loomed tall iron gates, guarded by men in black. Beyond them, freedom.

My fingers tightened on the curtain. I had to try.

That night, I refused the dinner he sent up. I lay in bed, feigning sleep, listening. Hours dragged, marked only by the ticking of the ornate clock on the wall. Midnight passed. The house grew quiet.

Now.

My heart thudded against my ribs as I rose. I slipped into the corridor, barefoot, every step soundless. The mansion was a maze, but I’d memorized the path. Down the grand staircase, across the gallery, past the parlor lined with Roman statues.

The closer I got to the doors, the faster I moved, desperation tugging me forward. When I reached the back hall, I spotted the servant’s entrance—unguarded. My pulse surged.

I pushed it open. Cold night air hit me like a blessing.

Freedom.

I ran. My bare feet slapped against the stone path as I sprinted toward the gates. My lungs burned, adrenaline roaring in my blood. I was close—so close I could see the iron bars, the outline of the streetlights beyond.

But then—

“Running so soon, bella?”

The voice froze me mid-step.

Dante.

He stepped out of the shadows like he’d been waiting. His suit jacket was gone, his shirt sleeves rolled, the top buttons undone, exposing a chest carved in hard muscle. But it was his eyes that broke me—those dark, merciless eyes that gleamed with amusement and fury all at once.

My breath hitched. I stumbled back, but strong hands seized me from behind. One of his guards.

“No! "Let me go!” I screamed, thrashing. My nails clawed at the man’s arms, but he held me like steel.

Dante moved closer, slowly, deliberately, like a lion savoring his prey. He stopped inches away, his hand gripping my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

“You thought you could run from me?” His voice was low, deadly calm. “After everything I’ve given you, after I spared your life, you repay me with betrayal?”

Tears stung my eyes, but I forced the words out. “I don’t belong to you!”

The guard shoved me forward, straight into Dante’s arms. His grip crushed me against him, his scent of smoke and danger overwhelming.

“You’re wrong, Isabella,” he murmured, his lips brushing my ear. You belong to me more than anyone ever has. And I will make sure you never forget it.

I shivered as he dragged me back toward the mansion, his men following silently. My pleas echoed through the night, but no one outside those gates could hear me.

Inside, he dismissed the guards with a flick of his hand. The door slammed shut, sealing me back into my gilded prison.

Then Dante turned to me. His jaw was sharp with tension, his eyes burning. “I told you what would happen if you tried to run.”

“Please,” I whispered, my voice breaking. I can’t stay here, I’ll die.

He stepped closer until my back hit the wall, trapping me. His hand rose and cupped my throat—not enough to choke, just enough to remind me of his power.

“You won’t die here,” he said, voice rough. You’ll live. "Every day, every breath, you’ll live as mine. "And if you try to take that away from me again… His thumb stroked my pulse. “…I’ll make you regret it.”

Fear flooded me, hot and suffocating. But beneath it was something more dangerous—something that scared me even more. The way my body betrayed me, trembling not only with fear but with awareness.

Dante saw it too. His lips curved, cruel and knowing. “Good. Now you’re starting to understand.”

He released me suddenly, and I crumpled to the floor, gasping.

Dante turned, his voice final. “There won’t be a second escape attempt, Isabella. Because if there is…” He glanced back, his eyes burning into me. “…I won’t be so merciful.”

And with that, he left me in the silence of my cage—shaken, terrified, and bound tighter than ever.