chapter 2
958 Words
The Moretti estate was exactly what Dominic expected—a f*****g fortress.
Stone walls, cameras at every corner, armed men standing like statues at the entrance. A place built not just for luxury, but for war.
He stepped out of the black SUV, boots hitting the cobblestone driveway with a dull thud. His jaw tightened as he adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. He didn’t want to be here. But the moment he stepped inside, it was clear—they wanted him here even less.
The wind carried the scent of expensive cigars and freshly trimmed hedges, but underneath it all was something else. Rot. Decay. The stench of old power that had begun to sour.
A man In a black suit stepped forward, expression blank. “Mr. Caruso, this way.”
Dominic said nothing as he followed him inside. He’d been here before—years ago, when the alliance between their families was strong. Before Moretti had betrayed them. Before the streets were painted in blood.
And now? Now they expected him to marry into this f*****g family for peace?
His jaw clenched. If his father thought he would play house for the sake of business, he was sorely mistaken.
The Interior of the mansion was as grand as ever. Marble floors, gold accents, chandeliers dripping with crystals. Opulence built on blood money.
At the center of it all sat Don Moretti himself, nursing a glass of whiskey, watching Dominic with sharp, assessing eyes.
“You came,” Moretti said, voice smooth but edged with steel.
Dominic smirked. “You expected me to refuse?”
Moretti chuckled. “No, I expected you to come armed.”
Dominic’s grin widened. “You think I’m stupid enough to start a war in your own house?”
“I think you’re your father’s son.”
Silence. Heavy, tense. Neither of them trusted the other, but for now, they played the game.
Moretti set his glass down and turned his head slightly. “Valentina.
Dominic followed his gaze, and that’s when he saw her.
She stood at the top of the grand staircase, a vision wrapped in defiance.
Her dress was simple—cream-colored silk that clung to her curves without effort. It should’ve made her look soft, fragile. But it didn’t. Not with the way she held herself.
Her hair—chestnut waves cascading past her shoulders—framed a face that was almost too perfect. High cheekbones, full lips, a slight furrow in her brows that told him she wasn’t happy to be here either.
But it was her eyes that caught him.
Dark brown, but not warm. Not welcoming.
No, they were sharp. Calculating. A silent challenge.
She’s angry.
Dominic knew that look too well. It was the same one he saw in the mirror every morning.
She descended the staircase slowly, controlled. Every step measured, like a soldier walking toward the battlefield.
She stopped a few feet away, her gaze never leaving his. As if she was sizing him up just as much as he was sizing her.
Dominic arched a brow. “So, you’re the one I have to marry?”
Her lips pressed together. “Disappointed?”
He smirked. “Depends. You planning on being a pain in my ass?”
She tilted her head slightly, considering. Then, to his surprise, she smirked back. “Are you planning on being one in mine?”
A chuckle rumbled In his chest. Nerve. She had f*****g nerve. He liked that.
Moretti cleared his throat. “Valentina, meet Dominic Caruso. Dominic, my daughter.”
She didn’t move. Didn’t offer her hand.
Dominic leaned in just slightly, watching her. “No handshake? What, afraid I’ll bite?”
Her eyes flickered with something he couldn’t quite place. “Afraid I’ll break your fingers.”
His grin widened. “I’d like to see you try.”
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t back down.
Dominic had been expecting a spoiled Mafia princess. Someone weak, sheltered. But she wasn’t that, was she?
No, this girl had steel in her spine.
Still, steel or not, she was here for the same reason he was.
“A business deal,” Dominic said, voice smooth. “That’s what this is. Nothing more.”
Something flickered across her face—too fast for him to catch. But then she smiled. Not sweet. Not soft.
Sharp. Calculated. Dangerous.
“Good,” she said. “Then we don’t have to pretend to like each other.”
Dominic laughed, low and rough. “Darling, I never pretend.”
Moretti leaned back in his chair, watching the exchange like a king observing his chess pieces. “Then it’s settled. The engagement will be announced this week.”
Dominic clenched his jaw. Just like that, huh?
Valentina turned to her father, voice cold. “And what if I refuse?”
Moretti’s expression darkened. “Then I’ll bury your mother’s medical bills so deep she’ll never see another doctor again.”
Dominic felt the shift in the air.
It was slight, but he saw it. The way her back straightened. The way her fingers curled into fists. The way her breath hitched, just a little.
Her mother was sick.
And Moretti was using that to control her.
Bastard.
Valentina turned back to Dominic, her face once again unreadable. “Looks like I don’t have a choice, then.”
Dominic didn’t break eye contact. “Neither of us do.”
Another pause.
Then she nodded once. “Fine.”
She turned and walked away, disappearing down the hall without another word.
Dominic let out a slow exhale, running a hand through his hair.
This marriage was going to be a f*****g nightmare.
And yet—
He couldn’t stop thinking about the fire in her eyes.
- Writer
