chapter 3
1170 Words
The Moretti estate was alive with the sounds of a celebration Dominic wanted no part of.
Laughter, clinking glasses, murmured conversations—all of it grated against his nerves like sandpaper. These people were celebrating as if this was a real engagement. As if this wasn’t a power move wrapped in an expensive suit.
The dining hall was obnoxiously lavish—long chandeliers spilling golden light over a grand table lined with crystal glasses and polished silverware. Morettis and Carusos sat side by side, fake smiles plastered on their faces, trying to act like this wasn’t a merger masked as a marriage.
Dominic’s fingers drummed against the table as his father, Luca Caruso, raised his glass.
“To unity.”
A chorus of cheers echoed around the room.
Dominic smirked. Unity, my ass.
Valentina sat beside him, perfectly poised, hands folded on her lap. She hadn’t looked at him once.
Not since the moment she was forced into that silk dress and pushed in front of their fathers like a well-trained prize.
He leaned in slightly, his breath ghosting over her ear. “You look like you’d rather be anywhere but here.”
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t react. But he saw the slight twitch in her jaw.
“Observant, aren’t you?” she murmured, taking a sip of her wine.
He chuckled, low and rough. “I’m just wondering how long you can keep pretending.”
She turned then, her dark eyes locking onto his. “Pretending?”
Dominic smirked. There it was—that fire again. “That you’re okay with this. That you’re just another obedient little Mafia princess playing her part.”
Her lips parted slightly, as if to respond, but before she could, her father’s voice sliced through the room.
“Dominic,” Moretti called out, lifting his glass. “You’re quite the talk of the city these days. Rumor has it you handled those traitors last week in a way even I found impressive.”
The entire table fell silent.
Dominic could feel the weight of every single stare. The silent challenge in Moretti’s words. A test.
Valentina tensed beside him.
Dominic swirled the wine in his glass lazily before taking a sip. If Moretti thought he could rattle him, he was dead f*****g wrong.
“Rumors travel fast,” Dominic mused, setting his glass down. “I’m sure you’d rather ask the men who crossed me, but they’re all six feet under.”
A few nervous chuckles echoed around the room.
Moretti smirked. “Efficient. Brutal, even.” He tilted his head. “But was it necessary?”
Dominic met his gaze, unfazed. “Every bullet.”
The tension in the room thickened.
Moretti held his stare for a long moment before finally chuckling, the sound dark and pleased. “You remind me of myself at your age.”
“That’s not a compliment,” Valentina muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Dominic to hear.
He smirked.
Dinner carried on, conversations shifting back to less deadly topics, but the tension remained. Moretti had just made one thing clear—he wanted to know what kind of man his daughter was marrying.
And Dominic? He had nothing to prove.
It was tradition, apparently.
The newly engaged couple had to dance together in front of the entire room.
Valentina stood stiffly as Dominic extended his hand. Her fingers barely touched his when she placed her palm against his.
“Relax, princess,” he murmured as he pulled her closer, his other hand resting on the small of her back. “I don’t bite.”
She arched a brow. “No? That’s not what the streets say.”
He chuckled. She had a sharp tongue. He liked that.
The music started, soft and slow, but the air between them was anything but.
Every step was a battle. A power struggle wrapped in grace.
“I know what you are,” Valentina said quietly as they moved. “You’re a killer. A man who doesn’t hesitate to spill blood if it means keeping your empire strong.”
Dominic’s fingers tightened slightly on her waist. “And what does that make you?”
She tilted her chin up slightly. “A hostage.”
His smirk faded.
For the first time since he met her, she wasn’t just fighting back—she was telling the truth.
And somehow, he hated that more than anything.
“Then why are you here?” he asked, voice low.
She exhaled softly. “Because I have no choice.”
There was something in her voice. Something she was trying to hide.
Fear? No.
Resentment.
Before he could say anything, the dance ended. The room erupted into applause, but Valentina didn’t wait. She stepped back, slipped out of his grip, and walked off the dance floor like she hadn’t just left him standing there.
Like she hadn’t just made him feel something.
He found her on the balcony, leaning against the railing, staring out at the darkened estate.
“You shouldn’t walk away from me like that, princess.”
She tensed but didn’t turn around. “Why? Worried about appearances?”
“No.” He stepped closer. “I just don’t like being dismissed.”
She exhaled a quiet laugh. “Then you’re going to hate this marriage.”
Dominic moved beside her, resting his elbows on the stone railing. The cold night air did nothing to cool the fire still burning in his chest.
“This doesn’t have to be miserable,” he said after a moment. “It’s a deal. We play our parts, and we survive it.”
She finally turned to him, her eyes filled with something unreadable. “And that’s all it is to you?”
Dominic’s smirk returned. “That’s all it will ever be.”
She nodded once, as if that was exactly what she expected. Then she looked back out at the night.
But for the first time, she didn’t look angry.
She just looked tired.
And Dominic?
For the first time, he realized he wasn’t the only one trapped in this f*****g game.
As Dominic turned to leave, a shadow moved from the doorway.
His muscles tensed.
Moretti stood there, his face unreadable.
“She’s your problem now,” he said flatly. “Do whatever you want with her.”
Valentina didn’t react. She didn’t even look at her father.
Dominic glanced at her, but she stared ahead, shoulders squared, as if the words didn’t affect her.
But they did. He could tell.
Moretti turned to go, then stopped. “Don’t think this marriage makes you family, Caruso. We’re allies, not blood.”
Dominic smirked. “Trust me, old man—I’d rather burn in hell than be your blood.”
Moretti chuckled darkly and walked away.
When Dominic turned back to Valentina, she was already gone.
And for the first time, he wondered if this marriage was going to cost him more than just his freedom.
Maybe it would cost him his soul.
- Writer
