Shattered Crown

Chapter 4

I wake to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar windows and the smell of coffee.

For a moment, I forget where I am. Then it all crashes back—the rejection, the humiliation, Dante's proposition. My hand flies to my neck, checking for a mark that isn't there. Not yet.

A soft knock echoes through the room.

"Come in," I call, my voice hoarse.

A woman enters—early thirties, sharp suit, tablet in hand. She's beautiful in an intimidating way, with dark hair pulled into a perfect bun and eyes that miss nothing.

"Ms. Rivers. I'm Natasha, Mr. Mortelli's assistant. He asked me to ensure you have everything you need for today."

"Today?"

"The announcement." She sets a garment bag on the bed. "The press release goes out at noon. Photos at two. You have appointments at nine for hair, makeup, and styling."

"That's in an hour."

"Yes. The car will be here in forty-five minutes. Breakfast is downstairs. Mr. Mortelli is in his office but asked me to tell you he'll see you before the photos."

She's already moving, hanging the garment bag in the closet, setting out accessories I didn't notice before.

"Natasha?" She pauses. "How long have you worked for Dante?"

"Eight years."

"Is he... what's he like? To work for?"

She considers this. "Demanding. Brilliant. Dangerous when crossed." A small smile plays at her lips. "But loyal to those who earn it. He takes care of his people."

"And you've earned it?"

"I wouldn't be here if I hadn't." She checks her tablet. "You should eat something. The rejection poison makes you weak, and today will be long."

She knows about the rejection. Of course she does.

I make my way downstairs, finding the kitchen already set with breakfast—eggs, fruit, pastries, more food than I could eat in a week.

"Overwhelmed?"

I spin to find Dante leaning against the doorway, dressed in a suit that probably costs more than my entire previous wardrobe. He looks like sin personified—dangerous and beautiful and completely at ease.

"This is a lot of food for one person."

"I wasn't sure what you liked." He moves into the kitchen, pouring himself coffee. "Eat. You'll need your strength."

"For photos?"

"For what comes after." He slides a folder across the counter. "The marriage contract. Read it. Sign it. Or don't."

I open it, scanning through legal terms that make my head spin. "This is—"

"Generous. You'll have access to accounts, cards, cars. Everything a Mortelli wife would have. The prenup ensures you leave with enough to never work again if you choose."

"I don't want your money."

"You say that now. Read section twelve."

I flip through, finding it. My eyes widen. "You're transferring ownership of three companies to me?"

"Shell companies, but profitable ones. You need to be more than my wife. You need to be powerful in your own right. Untouchable."

"Why?"

"Because when Maddox comes for you—and he will—I want him to know he can't buy you back. Can't intimidate you. Can't touch you without going through me."

"You're that certain he'll try?"

He pulls out his phone, showing me a news article. "Blackwood Heir Spotted at Four AM Outside Former Flame's Apartment."

The photo is grainy but unmistakable. Maddox's car outside my old building.

"He went looking for me?"

"He's been there all night, according to my sources."

"But he rejected me. He chose Victoria."

"And now he's realizing what that choice cost him." Dante's smile is sharp. "By tonight, he'll know you're mine. The entire world will."

My stomach flutters—nerves or something else, I'm not sure.

"What exactly happens at two?"

"We announce our engagement. A small press conference, a few photos. You'll wear the ring, smile, look appropriately in love."

"Ring?"

He pulls out a box, setting it on the counter. "Open it."

Inside sits a ring that takes my breath away. Not because it's massive—though the black diamond center stone is substantial—but because it's perfect. Surrounded by smaller white diamonds, set in black platinum. It's dark, elegant, dangerous.

Like him.

"It's beautiful."

"It was my mother's."

My head snaps up. "I can't wear your mother's ring."

"She would have wanted it worn, not sitting in a safe." He takes it from the box, holding it out. "May I?"

I extend my trembling hand. He slides it on, and it fits perfectly. Of course it does.

"How?"

"I had it resized last night."

"While I was sleeping?"

"You were restless. Crying. The rejection fever was bad."

"You were watching me sleep?"

"I was making sure you didn't die in my guest room. That would be inconvenient."

But there's something in his eyes that suggests it was more than convenience that kept him watching.

Natasha returns. "The car is here."

"I haven't signed the contract."

"Sign it when you're ready. Or don't." Dante moves toward his office. "Either way, the announcement goes out at noon."

"That's not fair—"

"Nothing about this is fair, little wolf. But then, nothing about what happened to you was fair either."

He's right. I hate that he's right.

The salon is a blur of hands and faces, transforming me into someone I don't recognize. My hair, usually wild and unmanageable, falls in perfect waves. My face looks like mine but elevated—cheekbones sharper, eyes more dramatic, lips fuller.

"You're beautiful," the stylist says, stepping back. "Mr. Mortelli has excellent taste."

"He doesn't even know me."

She laughs. "Honey, men like Dante Mortelli don't need to know you. They see what they want and take it."

Is that what I am? Something he saw and decided to take?

The dress from the garment bag is devastating—black silk that hugs every curve before falling to mid-thigh, with long sleeves and a neckline that's somehow both modest and seductive.

"One more thing," Natasha says, entering with another box. "From Mr. Mortelli."

Diamond earrings that match the ring, and a necklace that will sit perfectly at my throat. Not choking, but definitely... present.

When I arrive back at the penthouse, Dante is waiting in the living room with two other men. One is massive—all muscle and scars, with eyes that track every movement. The other is younger, leaner, with an easy smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"Selene, this is Marcus, my head of security, and Julian, my Beta."

Both men nod, studying me with barely concealed curiosity.

"The mate-rejected Luna of Shadow Ridge," Julian says. "This should be interesting."

"Julian," Dante warns.

"What? I'm just saying what everyone's thinking. Maddox Blackwood just made the mistake of the century."

"Is everything ready?" Dante asks Marcus.

"Perimeter secured. Press assembled. We've had three attempts at infiltration from Blackwood pack members."

"Already?"

"They're not subtle."

Dante turns to me. "Ready?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"There's always a choice. You could walk out right now, go back to your apartment, pretend none of this happened."

"Except the rejection is real. The humiliation is real."

"Yes."

"Then let's do this."

He offers me his arm, and I take it, letting him lead me to the elevator.

"You look beautiful," he says once we're alone.

"Natasha and the team deserve the credit."

"No." His hand covers mine on his arm. "This is all you. They just polished what was already there."

The elevator opens to a private parking garage where a Rolls Royce waits.

"A bit much?"

"Nothing is too much for my fiancée."

The way he says it, possessive and proud, makes my stomach flip.

The press conference is at one of his hotels—neutral ground, he calls it. The moment we step out of the car, cameras flash. Dozens of them, all aimed at us.

"Smile," Dante murmurs. "Show them the queen you're about to become."

I straighten my spine, lifting my chin. If I'm doing this, I'm doing it right.

"Mr. Mortelli! Is it true you're engaged?"

"When's the wedding?"

"How long have you been together?"

Dante raises a hand, and silence falls. Power. Pure, undiluted power that makes everyone stop and listen.

"I'm pleased to announce my engagement to Selene Rivers. The wedding will be this Saturday."

Gasps ripple through the crowd.

"Isn't she Maddox Blackwood's mate?"

Dante's smile is lethal. "Was. Past tense. She's mine now."

"Selene! How does it feel to go from rejected to engaged in less than twenty-four hours?"

I step forward, feeling Dante's hand on my lower back, steadying me.

"It feels," I say, my voice stronger than expected, "like fate correcting a mistake."

The reporters go wild, shouting more questions, but Dante is already guiding me back to the car.

"Fate correcting a mistake?" he asks once we're inside.

"Too much?"

"Perfect. He'll hate it."

My phone buzzes. Emma calling. I answer.

"SELENE! What the hell? You're engaged to Dante Mortelli? The actual crime lord?"

"It's complicated."

"Complicated? Babe, this is insane! Maddox is losing his mind. He destroyed his office. Victoria's been crying all morning."

"Why would Victoria cry?"

"Because she knows what everyone else just figured out—she got the consolation prize. You just became the most powerful Luna on the East Coast."

"I'm not Luna yet."

"You will be. Saturday? That's in five days!"

"I know."

"Maddox is on his way to the city."

My blood runs cold. "What?"

"He left an hour ago. With fifty warriors."

I look at Dante, who's been listening to every word. His smile is predatory.

"Let him come," he says, loud enough for Emma to hear.

"Is that him? Oh my God, Selene, what have you done?"

"What I had to."

I hang up, turning to Dante. "Fifty warriors?"

"I have two hundred. And they're better trained."

"This is going to start a war."

"The war started fifteen years ago. This is just the next battle."

"With me in the middle."

He takes my hand, thumb brushing over the ring. "Not in the middle. By my side. Where you belong."

"I don't belong—"

"You do now."

The car pulls up to the penthouse, but there's a crowd outside. Not reporters—wolves. I can smell them, see it in their posture.

"Blackwood pack," Marcus confirms from the front seat.

"How many?"

"Twelve."

"Drive around back."

"No." I put my hand on Dante's arm. "If we run, it looks like we're afraid."

"You want to face them?"

"I want this over with."

He studies me for a moment, then nods. "Marcus, standard formation. Julian, with me."

We exit the car, and I immediately spot him. Not Maddox—Simon, his best friend and enforcer. The one who held me back at the gala while everyone laughed.

"Selene," Simon calls out. "The Alpha wants you to come home."

"I am home."

"You belong to Shadow Ridge."

"She belongs to me," Dante says, stepping partially in front of me. "And you're trespassing."

"We're here on official pack business."

"State it and leave."

Simon pulls out an envelope. "A formal challenge. Single combat. For the girl."

Dante laughs—actually laughs. "He wants to fight me for her? After rejecting her publicly? He has no claim."

"She's his mate."

"Was. He severed that bond. She's my fiancée now."

"Not yet married. The challenge stands until then."

Dante takes the envelope, reading it. His expression darkens. "Tell your Alpha I accept."

"What?" I grab his arm. "No, you can't—"

"Friday night. Midnight. Neutral territory."

"This is insane!"

Simon smirks at me. "Should have stayed where you belong, Selene."

"Where I belong?" The rage that's been simmering explodes. "In the shadows? Watching him with Victoria? Dying slowly from rejection while you all laugh?"

"You were never good enough—"

He doesn't finish. Dante's hand is around his throat, lifting him off the ground.

"Finish that sentence. Please."

Simon claws at Dante's hand, face turning purple.

"Dante," I say softly.

He drops Simon, who crashes to the ground gasping.

"Leave. Now. Before I forget I'm civilized."

The Blackwood wolves retreat, Simon shooting me one last venomous look.

"You accepted the challenge," I say once they're gone.

"Yes."

"You could die."

"I won't."

"He's younger, stronger—"

"He's pampered. Soft. Dependent on his father's reputation." Dante turns to me. "I've been fighting for survival since I was seventeen. He doesn't stand a chance."

"And if you're wrong?"

"Then you go back to him."

"I won't. I'd rather die."

Something flashes in his eyes. "Then I better not lose."

He walks inside, leaving me standing there with the weight of what just happened crushing down on me.

In five days, two Alphas will fight for me.

One who threw me away.

One who claimed me as revenge.

And I'm not sure which one winning terrifies me more.