The Devil's Blood Bride

Chapter 3

I didn’t sleep.

The encrypted ledger consumed me through the night. Rows upon rows of financial transactions, shell companies, bribes to judges and politicians, payments to hitmen, and coded references to “C.V.” — whoever that was. My background in forensic accounting, which I had once thought useless outside of boring corporate jobs, suddenly became my greatest weapon.

By dawn, I had cracked the first layer of encryption. My eyes burned, but adrenaline kept me going.

Dante found me at 7 a.m. still hunched over the laptop, hair a mess, wearing the same clothes from yesterday.

“You haven’t slept.” It wasn’t a question. He set a mug of coffee beside me, black, exactly how I liked it. The small gesture felt dangerously intimate.

“I found something,” I said, ignoring the way his presence made the room feel smaller. “My father’s ledger. It’s massive. Names, dates, money trails that could bring down half the city.”

He leaned over my shoulder to look at the screen. His chest brushed my back, and I forced myself not to react to the contact. “You did this in one night?”

“Forensic accounting was my minor. Turns out tracking mafia money is just like tracking corporate fraud. Only bloodier.”

Dante straightened, but his hand lingered on the back of my chair. “Impressive. But this puts an even bigger target on your back.”

“I’m not hiding anymore.” I turned to face him. “You want me to survive in your world? Then let me fight with the skills I have.”

For a moment, something like pride flickered in his eyes. Then the protective mask slammed back down. “You decode. I handle the violence.”

We spent the next several hours working side by side. He provided context on the names I didn’t recognize while I unraveled patterns he and his men had missed for months. The tension between us never faded, every accidental brush of hands, every shared look, every time our voices dropped into quiet conversation felt loaded.

By midday, Bianca’s earlier visit still lingered in my mind like a thorn. I hated that it did.

“You and Bianca,” I said casually while highlighting another suspicious transaction. “Old flame?”

Dante’s lips curved. “Jealous again?”

“Curious,” I corrected sharply. “She seems very comfortable touching you.”

“She’s an ally. Nothing more.” He turned my chair to face him fully. “And even if she wanted more, it wouldn’t matter. My attention is… occupied.”

The way he looked at me made heat pool low in my stomach. I stood up abruptly, needing space. “Good. Because I’m not interested in being another name on your list.”

“You could never be just a name, Seraphina.”

The air crackled again. We were inches apart when a knock interrupted.

“Boss. The council video meeting starts in ten minutes.”

Dante’s expression hardened. “You’re coming with me.”

The council meeting was held via secure video link in his war room. Five powerful men appeared on the large screen, aging dons and underbosses who clearly ran on old-school rules. They discussed retaliation for the cathedral m******e, shifting alliances, and the problem of “the Vale girl.”

When one of them, a greasy-looking man named Rizzo, sneered, “Why is the blood bride even in the room? Women belong on their backs, not at the table,” I saw red.

Dante’s hand tightened on the table, but he didn’t speak immediately. Instead, he looked at me.

I took the opening.

“Actually,” I said, voice clear and cutting, “this blood bride just decoded three months of transactions your so-called experts couldn’t touch. Would you like to know which of your own men is skimming from the Moretti shipments, Mr. Rizzo? Or should I let you continue embarrassing yourself?”

Silence fell.

Dante leaned back, a dangerous smile playing on his lips. “The lady speaks. Listen.”

I laid out the evidence coldly and precisely. By the end of my presentation, two of the men were nodding with reluctant respect. Rizzo looked like he wanted to murder me through the screen.

It was a small win, but it felt monumental. I wasn’t just surviving anymore. I was forcing them to see me.

After the call ended, Dante dismissed his men and turned to me. The pride in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Don’t act so surprised.”

He stepped closer. “I’m not. I always knew you had fire. I just didn’t expect you to burn so brightly this fast.”

Our eyes locked. The pull between us felt inevitable. His hand rose, fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face. The touch was gentle, almost reverent.

For a heartbeat, I thought he might finally close the distance.

Instead, he pulled back with visible effort. “You need rest. You’ve pushed too hard.”

I returned to my room, mind spinning with numbers, power, and the confusing storm of emotions Dante stirred in me.

That evening, when I went to grab a book from the library, a small envelope had been slipped under my door.

Inside was a single note written in elegant, feminine handwriting I recognized instantly.

Careful, my darling girl. Some devils wear suits. Others wear smiles. Trust no one inside those walls. — C.

Aunt Celeste.

My heart raced. She was alive. She was watching.

And she had just gotten a message inside Dante’s impenetrable fortress.

The threats were no longer only outside. Someone inside these walls was working against us.

I clutched the note, knife in my other hand, and stared at the door.

The game had changed again.

------

Training became my new religion.

Dante no longer eased me into sessions. He pushed harder, longer, until sweat soaked through my clothes and bruises painted my body in shades of purple and blue. Every morning he waited in the training room, silent and focused, eyes tracking me the second I entered.

“Again,” he ordered.

I lunged. He blocked. I spun. He caught my wrist and flipped me. I hit the mat hard, breath exploding from my lungs, but I rolled and came up swinging. The knife, real this time, though sheathed, felt familiar in my grip. My body ached. My pride burned. I refused to stay down.

The air between us stayed charged. Every correction brought his hands to my hips, my shoulders, the small of my back. Every successful strike made his gaze darken with something that had nothing to do with combat. Silence stretched between commands, thick and heavy. Our breathing mixed. Our bodies collided and separated only to find each other again.

During one drill he pinned me to the mat, knees bracketing my hips, one hand around my wrist. I arched up and nearly reversed him. Our faces ended inches apart. His eyes dropped to my mouth. Mine did the same. The space between us shrank. I felt the heat of his breath. My lips parted—

Alarms screamed through the estate.

“Perimeter breach, east wing!”

Dante was on his feet in an instant, hauling me up with him. “Stay behind me.”

I didn’t.

We ran. In the east corridor, two of Dante’s men fought a pair of black-clad intruders. One guard was already on the floor, bleeding heavily from a s***h across his side. The second intruder raised a blade to finish him.

I didn’t think. Training took over. I closed the distance, slammed the butt of my knife into the attacker’s kidney, then swept his leg exactly the way Dante had drilled into me. He staggered. I drove my elbow into the side of his neck. He dropped.

The wounded guard stared up at me, eyes wide. “Miss Vale—”

Dante reached us a second later, gun drawn. He put two precise shots into the remaining threat, then dropped beside the injured man, checking the wound. His gaze lifted to me.

“You saved him.”

The praise hit harder than any blow. Something warm and dangerous unfurled in my chest. I hated how good it felt.

“You taught me,” I said, voice rough.

Dante’s hand brushed my cheek, brief and almost gentle. “You’re becoming something extraordinary.”

Then the medical team arrived and the moment shattered. Damn them.

Later that afternoon a second envelope appeared on my desk while I worked. Same elegant handwriting, same careful folds.

My darling girl,

I can get you out. I have people outside the walls and a safe route ready. All you have to do is signal when you’re ready. Burn this. Tell no one.

— C.

My pulse hammered. Concrete help. A way out. I read the words twice, then burned the paper in the bathroom sink until only ash remained. I told Dante nothing. The secret settled in my stomach like a stone.

Marco found me in the library shortly after. He smiled too easily, leaning against the shelves with practiced charm.

“You look like you’ve been through a war,” he said. “Need anything? Coffee, files, a quiet place to breathe? I’m always around if Dante is… occupied.”

The offer felt sticky. I kept my expression neutral. “I’m fine.”

“Just remember the door is open,” he replied, lingering a moment too long before leaving.

I returned to the ledger, trying to ignore the unease.

Bianca arrived near evening. She and Dante disappeared into his private study. The door stayed closed for forty minutes. I waited in the hallway, pacing, telling myself the sharp twist in my chest was irritation and nothing more. When they finally emerged, Bianca’s hand rested lightly on his arm. She laughed at something he said. The sound scraped across my nerves.

The second the front doors closed behind her, I confronted him.

“Nice private meeting,” I said, voice sharp.

Dante’s eyes narrowed. “Business.”

“Looked cozy.”

He stepped closer. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m annoyed that you keep secrets while expecting me to trust you.”

“You’re the one hiding things, Seraphina.” His voice dropped. “I can feel it.”

The argument escalated fast. Words flew. Accusations. Defenses. He backed me against the wall without warning, hands braced on either side of my head, body caging mine. Heat poured off him. Our chests nearly touched. His mouth hovered a breath from mine. I felt the soft brush of his lips against the corner of my own, accidental, electric before he stopped himself.

“I won’t take what you don’t freely give,” he growled, voice strained. Then he pushed away and left me standing there, shaking and furious and wanting.

I returned to the ledger that night because it was the only thing that made sense. Hours later, the patterns finally clicked into place. Shell companies, payment trails, names of high-ranking city officials who had been feeding information and taking bribes from multiple families for years.

I stared at the screen, heart racing.

I had them. The corrupt officials were exposed. And the real power in this war had just shifted into my hands.