Chapter 2-2 : Dante
1080 Words
The reception ended at midnight. I’d arranged for us to spend the wedding night at my penthouse downtown. Thirty floors of steel and glass overlooking the city.
Isabella was silent during the car ride. She sat as far from me as possible, staring out the window, her mind clearly racing.
“You can ask,” I said.
“Ask what?”
“Whatever questions are burning a hole in your brain.”
She turned to look at me. “Fine. Who’s trying to kill you?”
“My uncle Marcus, for starters. You met him at the church. He’s been skimming from the company for years. I have proof. He knows I have proof.”
“Why not just fire him?”
“Because he’s not working alone. There’s a network. People in my company, in my social circle, even in my own home. My father built an empire on blood and blackmail. I’ve been trying to clean it up, but it’s like cutting off a hydra’s head. Two more grow back.”
Isabella was quiet for a moment. “And Sofia?”
“Got too close to the truth. She was going through my father’s old files, trying to help me. She found names. Dates. Evidence of trafficking, money laundering, and murder. When Marcus realized what she’d seen, he started making threats.”
“So you sent her away.”
“I gave her a choice. She chose to run. Smart girl.”
“And me? Do I get a choice?”
I looked at her. Really looked at her. Even exhausted and furious, she was beautiful. More beautiful than any woman I’d ever seen.
“You always have a choice, Isabella. You can walk away right now. I’ll make sure your family is protected. Citizenship, jobs, everything. No strings attached.”
She laughed. It was bitter. “That’s not a choice. That’s a trap. You know I can’t walk away.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re right. I do fix impossible problems. And if someone’s trafficking people, if they’re hurting children…” She shook her head. “I can’t just ignore that.”
I smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
The car pulled up to my building. The doorman opened Isabella’s door, and she stepped out, looking up at the tower of glass and steel.
“This is your home?”
“Our home now.”
She flinched at that. I pretended not to notice.
We rode the elevator in silence. I used my key card to access the penthouse. The doors opened directly into my living room, all open concept, floor-to-ceiling windows, modern furniture in blacks and grays.
Isabella walked in slowly, taking it all in.
“It’s very…” She paused. “Minimalist.”
“I don’t like clutter.”
“Clearly.” She touched a sculpture on the side table. “Is this a Giacometti?”
“Good eye. It was my mother’s.”
“Was?”
“She died when I was eight.”
Isabella’s expression softened. “I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”
I led her down the hallway. There were six bedrooms in the penthouse. The master was at the end, overlooking the water.
“This is yours,” I said, opening the door.
She looked at me suspiciously. “Mine? Not ours?”
“I’m not a monster, Isabella. You’ll have your own space. Your own bathroom. I had your things moved here this afternoon.”
“My things?”
“From your apartment. Clothes, books, laptop. Everything.”
She stepped into the room. It was decorated in soft creams and blues, nothing like the stark aesthetic of the rest of the penthouse. I’d had it redesigned specifically for her.
“You had someone break into my apartment?”
“I had someone carefully pack your belongings with the utmost respect for your privacy.”
“That’s still breaking in.”
“Technically, your landlord gave permission.”
She spun to face me. “This is kidnapping.”
“This is marriage. And protection. Marcus knows you’re not Sofia by now. He’ll come after you.”
“Let him. I’m not afraid.”
“You should be.” I stepped closer. “These people don’t make threats, Isabella. They make examples. The last person who crossed my uncle ended up in the Hudson River. Took three weeks to identify the body.”
She paled but held her ground. “Then why marry me at all? Why put a target on my back?”
“Because you were already a target the moment your sister got involved. And because…” I paused. “Because I need someone I can trust. Someone smart enough to see the patterns. Someone who won’t back down when things get dangerous.”
“Someone like me.”
“Exactly like you.”
She was close enough now that I could smell her perfume. Something floral and clean. Not the heavy, sweet scent Sofia wore.
“What if I say no?” she whispered. “What if I take your offer and walk away?”
“Then you walk away. I won’t stop you.”
“But you’ll be disappointed.”
“I’ll be devastated.”
She blinked. “Why?”
I reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She flinched but didn’t pull away.
“Because I’ve been looking for you my whole life, Isabella Martinez. Someone real. Someone brave. Someone who sees me and doesn’t flinch.”
“I’m flinching now.”
“No.” I let my hand drop. “You’re thinking. There’s a difference.”
She studied my face. Looking for lies, probably. She wouldn’t find any. Everything I’d said was true.
“I need to find my sister,” she said finally.
“I know where she is. I’ll take you to her tomorrow.”
“You what? Where?”
“She’s safe. That’s all you need to know tonight.” I stepped back, giving her space. “Get some rest. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
I turned to leave.
“Dante.”
I stopped but didn’t turn around.
“That kiss,” she said. “At the church. Why did you kiss me like that?”
I smiled. “Because I’ve been wanting to kiss you for six months. Tonight was just the first time I had permission.”
I left before she could respond.
- Writer
