THE MAFIA'S OBSESSION

LOOKED DOORS

I didn't lock the door.

Maybe it was pride.

Maybe it was stupidity.

Either way, I refused to let a stranger's whispered warning dictate my first night as a Marchetti.

I set the receiver back into place.

Whoever had called knew exactly where I was.

That thought unsettled me more than the warning itself.

A sharp knock echoed against the bedroom door.

Three slow knocks.

My heart lurched.

"Dinner," a woman's voice called softly.

I didn't answer immediately.

After several seconds, I opened the door just enough to see a middle-aged housekeeper balancing a silver tray.

She smiled politely.

"Mr. Marchetti asked me to make sure you ate."

"I told him I wasn't hungry."

"He said you'd say that."

Despite myself, I almost smiled.

Almost.

The woman placed the tray on the table.

Before leaving, she hesitated.

"Mrs. Marchetti..."

"Yes?"

She glanced nervously down the hallway before lowering her voice.

"Please..."

She swallowed.

"...lock your door tonight."

The color drained from my face.

"You too?"

Her eyes widened.

"I shouldn't have said anything."

She hurried away before I could stop her.

Now two people had warned me.

One anonymous.

One terrified.

Neither explained why.

I crossed the room and looked at the lock.

Still...

I refused.

If someone wanted me afraid on my first night, I wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

Instead, I slipped a small knife from the garter hidden beneath my dress.

One habit my father had never managed to break.

I tucked it beneath my pillow.

Then I waited.

Midnight came.

The estate fell silent.

Too silent.

No footsteps.

No voices.

Nothing.

Then

A creak.

Not outside.

Inside.

Somewhere beyond my bedroom door.

My fingers closed around the knife.

Another sound.

Slow footsteps.

Deliberate.

Whoever it was wasn't trying to hide anymore.

The doorknob turned.

Once.

Twice.

Someone was trying the handle.

I rose from the bed without making a sound.

The handle stopped moving.

Silence.

Then...

A key slid into the lock.

My blood ran cold.

Someone had a key.

The door began to open.

Only an inch.

Then

A powerful hand slammed it shut from the other side.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Dante.

His voice was calm.

Deadly calm.

Another man's voice answered.

"I thought this room was empty."

"No," Dante said.

"My wife is sleeping."

"I didn't know."

"You should have."

Silence.

Then footsteps retreated down the corridor.

I remained frozen behind the door, barely breathing.

A soft knock followed.

"Elena."

I didn't answer.

"It's Dante."

"I know."

"Open the door."

"No."

A long sigh escaped him.

"I deserve that."

Despite everything...

I laughed.

Just once.

"I'm serious," he said.

"So am I."

"You should've locked the door."

"You knew someone was coming."

"I suspected."

"You still didn't tell me."

"I came instead."

His words stole the anger from my tongue.

"You should open the door."

"Why?"

"Because if someone wants you dead..."

His voice dropped.

"...the safest place in this house is wherever I am."

Silence stretched between us.

Every instinct told me not to trust him.

Every instinct also reminded me that someone had just tried to enter my room with a key.

Slowly...

I unlocked the door.

Dante stood outside, still wearing the black shirt he'd changed into after the reception.

His sleeves were rolled to his forearms.

His jaw was tight.

His eyes searched my face before they searched the room behind me.

"You kept it unlocked."

"I did."

He closed his eyes for a brief second.

When he opened them again, the calm was gone.

"What were you thinking?"

"I don't like being told what to do."

"This isn't about pride."

His voice rose for the first time.

"It's about staying alive."

I stared at him.

He stared back.

Then something unexpected happened.

He stepped forward.

Not close enough to frighten me.

Just close enough for me to hear the anger beneath his steady breathing.

"If anything had happened to you..."

He stopped himself.

His jaw clenched.

I frowned.

"What?"

His gaze met mine.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

Finally, he took one slow step back.

"You'll sleep somewhere else tonight."

"I'm not moving."

"You are."

"I'm not."

Without another word, Dante bent down.

Before I could protest...

He lifted me into his arms.

"What are you doing?"

"You said you wouldn't move."

"I can walk!"

"I know."

"Then put me down!"

"No."

I hit his shoulder.

Hard.

He didn't even react.

Instead, he carried me down the silent hallway as though I weighed nothing.

Every servant we passed immediately looked away.

No one dared meet his eyes.

I glared up at him.

"I hate you."

His lips almost curved.

"I know."

"But for tonight..."

His grip tightened ever so slightly.

"...I'm choosing where my wife sleeps."

And for the first time...

I realized the Wolf wasn't trying to control me.

He was terrified of losing me.