Playing with fire.
911 Words
Elena’s POV.
"I…" I stammered, lost for words. I stepped out. The reporters were still outside, but they were few. Desperate for another photo. They would get tired soon.
He extended an arm to me. I hesitated before placing my hand in his.
“I don't have any luggage,” I said, forcing a smile for the camera.
“That can be arranged for, as my wife, you should always look the part, no hair out of place. Elegant and poised. That won't be hard for you, will it?” He turned to me.
“That's what I live for, Dante."
We walked through the glass doors. The staff pretended not to stare, but everyone definitely knew who I was, the runaway bride turned billionaire's wife.
I leaned closer and whispered through my teeth “You are enjoying this aren't you?”
His lips twitched at a corner, "Every bit of it. I can imagine Vega’s face when he sees the news."
The elevator door opened.
I stepped in first.
The room fell silent.
“So,” I said, curious, "you really hate Vega that much?”
He tilted his head. “Hate is a weak word. Let’s just say he took something from me. I’m returning the favor.”
“What did he take?”
That’s not your concern,” he replied. “Your concern is to make him suffer.”
My jaw clenched. “If we are going to work together. I need to know certain things."
He didn't reply. Just looked ahead.
My fingers coiled into a fist, but then I let it go.
Not now.
The elevator door opened again, and we were on the top floor. Penthouse was written on the button.
I stepped out first, looking around and taking in the view. There were floor-to-ceiling windows everywhere, all draped with fancy curtains. It was far bigger than Ajehandro’s or anything I have seen at all.
“This place is ridiculous," I whispered.
“Get used to it." He brushed past me and walked to the bar and poured himself a drink. “You have access to any bottle whatsoever. "Seems you find your solace at the bottom of bottles," he smirked. Swirling his glass.
“You know nothing about me, Dante."
“Neither do you." He raised a glass. "Cheers to not knowing."
He's mocking me. Bastard.
I crossed my arms. “So what now? You’ve got your contract wife, your press stunt. What happens next, Mr. Valerio?”
“Time will tell." He glanced at his watch. "Time is running; I have a business meeting in a few minutes."
"Louisa," he called out.
In a few seconds, a woman walked in wearing an apron. The way she looked at him, one would think she was terrified of him or interested in him or maybe even both.
“Good day, sir."
“This is my wife. Treat her like such and show her to her room."
Her brows raised; she glanced at me and nodded.
He dropped his drink and walked towards the door.
“See you tonight, Elena."
I watched the elevator door close slowly. Only then did I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
The silence of the penthouse afterward made me shiver.
“Right this way, ma'am,” Louisa says curtly.
She led me up the twirly stairs and down a hallway. We passed a large room. A piano in the middle that glistened like it was cleaned and polished every second.
“Is that Dante’s?” I asked as we passed the room.
"Yes, ma'am, he takes his piano time quite seriously; no one goes into that room except him."
I nodded. How strange. The billionaire does something other than throwing orders and wearing suits.
She stopped at a set of glass doors and opened them. “Your room,” she said. “Mr. Valerio prefers minimal disturbance. Dinner is served at eight. You’ll be expected downstairs.”
I nodded, stepping inside.
The room was beautiful, of course. Neatly painted white. A bed large enough for twenty people. And the view of the city from the glass window.
“Anything else, ma’am?” Louisa asked.
I shook my head.
When she left, I sank onto the edge of the bed.
I exhaled a shaky breath, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
I collapsed on the bed and gazed at the ceiling.
Married. To Dante Valerio.
The man whose name made men flinch and women whisper.
It was only a contract.
Just business.
But why did it already feel like I had made a deal with the devil?
I sat up and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked tired. My eyeballs bulged and my lips dried.
I curled my knees up to my chest, pressing my forehead against them.
I thought about Isabella. I wondered where she was. I never thought she could do this to me. I know our relationship had always been strained but not to the point of hatred.
I still love her; no matter what she's done, she's still my sister, and she is being deceived by Ajehandro. I just know it, and I am going to save her.
Just then, my phone rang.
I raised it above my face.
Alejandro's name flashed across the screen.
He has probably heard about the marriage, but I don't care.
Declined.
This is only the beginning, Ajehandro Vega. I clenched my fists.
- Writer
