Fated To The Cursed Alpha Don

8. Marriage

Dante

Gabriella is f*****g insane. Killing herself? What the hell was she thinking? Was she trying to ruin me? Seeing her like that…lying in a pool of her own blood—did something to me, something I don’t f*****g like. I felt it deep, a sharp twist in my chest, and I hated it. I don’t want to feel anything when it comes to her.

Francisco, our family doctor, is still working on her, carefully bandaging her wrist. He’s been with us for years, handling every medical issue that comes up, discreet and damn good at what he does.

My eyes drift to her. She’s still unconscious, her face pale against the sheets, her lips pressed together in a way that does something dark to me. Those lips. I can already picture them wrapped around my c**k, sucking me in deep. f**k. I’m a twisted bastard for even thinking about this when she’s like this. But it doesn’t stop the heat from settling in my gut.

She looks fragile, so f*****g breakable. It’s almost strange, seeing her this way. I know she’s been through hell—thanks to that piece of s**t father of hers….and me. And yet, here I am, the one who’s supposed to be breaking her, and she’s the one shaking me instead.

I need a f*****g minute. I push off the chair and step out into the hallway, inhaling deeply, trying to clear my head.

"Dante!" Lenora rushes toward me, her breath uneven. "Is she alright?"

"Francisco says she’s stable." My voice comes out clipped, controlled. "But he’s still treating her."

She sighs, relief flickering across her face. "Thank goodness. But… What happened? Why would she do something like this?"

"Obviously because her father and brother betrayed her….and I tortured her."

Lenora crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing. "Dante, you can’t keep doing this. We can’t lose that girl, and you know it."

I roll my eyes, looking away. "I don’t need her. I just need her to say what I want to hear. After that, she’s useless to me. That’s what the witch told us, isn’t it?"

"I can’t believe you." Her voice is sharp, frustration laced in every word. "After all these years, we finally have a chance to end this mess, and you’re playing with fire. You’re pushing her too far. How the hell do you expect her to help you if she hates you more every damn day?"

"f**k that," I snap.

My gaze turns cold as I face her. "Why the f**k should I care? Her father killed my mother!"

"And she’s not her father!" Lenora hisses. "She’s innocent. She’s…."

"Enough," I cut her off, my jaw tightening. "I don’t want to hear this s**t. Stay out of it, Lenora. I’ll handle it."

She exhales sharply, shaking her head. "I’m glad I called your father."

My body tenses. I whip around, anger boiling through me. "You did what?"

"I had no choice," she says, standing her ground. "You wouldn’t listen to me, so I figured you’d listen to him."

I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. "Why the f**k would I? He failed. He lost. He let everything go to s**t. So he shouldn’t be surprised if I fail too."

Lenora’s expression softens, but her voice stays firm. "He’s angry that Gabriella's the one, but he’s also worried. He understands she’s important to us."

"And I already said I’d marry her," I bite out. "So let it go."

Before she can say another word, Francisco steps out of the room. The moment he sees me, he drops to one knee. "Boss," he says respectfully, "she’s awake now. You can see her. But I’d advise you to take it easy on her. She’s—"

"You may leave," I cut him off, not interested in his concerns.

He nods. "Yes, sir. I’ve already informed Stella about the lady’s medications and care." With another bow, he stands and walks away.

I don’t acknowledge him. My jaw is tight as I turn toward the room. "I’m going in."

Lenora steps in my way, eyes searching mine. "Aren’t you going to ask when he’s arriving from Italy?"

"I don’t care."

"He’ll be here tomorrow."

I suck in a slow breath but don’t say a word.

"And Dante… your hand—" Her voice is softer now.

"I’m fine." The words come out cold as I push past her into the room.

I know she’s doing this for me. I know she thinks she’s helping. But I’m still so f*****g pissed she told my father about Gabriella. That was supposed to stay between us. And now, the whole damn family is going to know.

Inside, Stella…my head maid…is changing the sheets, setting things back in order. My eyes scan the room.

"Where is she?"

Stella bows slightly. "She’s bathing, sir."

Right on cue, Gabriella steps out of the bathroom. A plain white gown clings to her body, her long brown hair damp and flowing over her shoulders. The soft light makes her skin glow, and for a second, I feel my resolve slip. My c**k hardens against my pants. f**k. She’s beautiful. Tempting.

Her hazel eyes lock onto mine, filled with nothing but hatred. "Why? Why didn’t you just let me die?"

I don’t answer. Because I don’t have a f*****g answer.

Instead, I stride toward her, gripping her waist and lifting her into my arms.

"What the f**k are you doing?!" she shrieks, struggling, fists pounding against my chest. "Let me go, you bastard!"

"Boss," Stella starts hesitantly. "The doctor said she needs to rest—"

I cut her a sharp glare. She immediately bows her head. "I’m sorry for overstepping."

I don’t acknowledge her. I just carry Gabriella out of the room.

She fights me the whole way, screaming, kicking, but I don’t falter. I’m honestly surprised by how much fight she has left after everything. Tiny as she is, she’s f*****g strong.

We reach my study. One of my men stationed outside immediately opens the door and bows his head as I step inside.

Carlos is already there, waiting, standing near the desk. He inclines his head. "Boss." He's one of my men and the one officiating the marriage.

"I don’t have time," I say. "Just get on with the marriage or whatever."

Gabriella wrenches herself out of my arms, stumbling back. "You’ve lost your f*****g mind," she spits. "I don’t want to marry you!"

I tilt my head, voice calm but laced with warning. "You better shut that pretty little mouth before I throw you back in that dungeon."

She glares at me, shaking her head in disbelief. "Why?" Her voice breaks slightly. "You hate me. So why force this?"

I step closer, my presence towering over her. "Just shut up and do as you're told. Then we won’t have a problem."

She exhales sharply but stays silent, looking away.

Carlos clears his throat, keeping his tone neutral. "Alright. Let’s begin." He turns to Gabriella. "Miss Gabriella, repeat after me. I, Gabriella Romano…"

She hesitates, her jaw tightening. I shoot her a sharp glare. She huffs, then lifts her chin in defiance.

"I, Gabriella Romano."

"Hereby break every bond with Dante Moretti."

Her hazel eyes narrow suspiciously. She looks between Carlos and me. "Is this some kind of occult ritual or something? Who the hell gets married by breaking a bond?"

"Just say the words," I snap, my patience wearing thin. I just want this over with.

She lets out an irritated breath. "Fine," she spits. "I, Gabriella Romano, hereby break every bond with Dante Moretti."

I wait. Expect something. A shift in the air. A sign.

But nothing.

Carlos turns to me. "Did it work?"

"I don’t know." There’s only one way to find out.

I reach into my pocket and pull out a knife.

Gabriella’s body tenses. She takes a step back. "What… what the f**k are you doing?"

I don’t answer. I grab her wrist, ignoring her struggle, and slice her palm, just a small cut, drawing blood.

"You f*****g bastard!" she gasps, stumbling back, eyes wide with horror and confusion.

Carlos and I exchange a look. Then, without a word, I storm out of the room, rolling up my sleeve as I walk.

Blood….dripping down my forearm.

The exact same wound.

It didn’t work. The f*****g witch lied.

And that means…

I’m stuck with Gabriella.

Fuck.