CHAPTER 21
ACT THREE: THE DESCENT THE MAFIA WORLD The illusion of paradise shattered on a Tuesday. Bella had grown comfortable in her gilded cage. Too comfortable, perhaps. She had let herself believe that the violence of Dante's world was something abstract, a distant threat that existed in stories and whispered conversations but never touched the bubble of safety he had created around her. She was wrong. It started with a phone call. Dante was in his study, the door slightly ajar, and Bella happened to be passing by when she heard his voice—cold, clipped, utterly without the warmth he showed her. "Handle it," he was saying. "Make an example. I want everyone to know what happens to traitors." Bella froze in the hallway, her blood turning to ice. "No, not a quick death. He needs to suffer. H
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