THE MAFIA'S OBSESSION

THE WEDDING NIGHT

The applause hadn't stopped by the time Dante guided me into the back seat of the waiting car.

The door closed.

The cheers faded into the distance.

For the first time that day...

We were alone.

I turned toward the window, refusing to acknowledge the man I'd just married.

"You embarrassed the priest," Dante said after several minutes.

"I embarrassed everyone."

"You did."

"I don't regret it."

"I didn't expect you to."

His calm irritated me.

I wanted him angry.

I wanted him to shout.

Anything but this impossible composure.

"You smile too much for a man everyone calls the Wolf."

"I smiled once."

"It was once too many."

A quiet chuckle escaped him.

"You've been counting."

"I've been judging."

"I noticed."

The rest of the journey passed in silence.

The Marchetti estate emerged from the darkness like an ancient fortress.

Stone walls.

Iron gates.

Armed guards stationed at every entrance.

It didn't look like a home.

It looked like the kind of place people disappeared into.

The front doors opened before we reached them.

Servants stood in two perfect rows, their heads lowered.

"Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Marchetti."

The title twisted something inside me.

Home.

As though I belonged here.

Dante dismissed everyone with a single nod.

Within seconds, the grand entrance hall belonged only to us.

"My room?" I asked.

He looked at me.

"Not ours?"

His gaze lingered for a brief moment before he answered.

"Separate rooms."

I blinked.

"I wasn't expecting that."

"What were you expecting?"

"A captor."

His expression hardened.

"I may have been forced to marry you, Elena..."

He stepped closer.

"But I will never force you into my bed."

For a heartbeat...

I forgot how to breathe.

"You don't trust me," he continued quietly.

"You have every reason not to."

His honesty unsettled me far more than arrogance ever could.

"So no."

He reached for my suitcase himself.

"You'll be staying in the east wing."

"You carried my bag."

"It has wheels."

"I noticed."

"I also noticed you haven't eaten since this morning."

"I wasn't hungry."

"That's a lie."

"You don't know me."

"I know you nearly fainted during the reception."

"I did not."

"You swayed."

"I was wearing heels."

"You were being stubborn."

"I still am."

The corner of his mouth lifted.

"There she is."

"What?"

"The woman who threatened me at the altar."

"I meant every word."

"I know."

He stopped outside an elegant wooden door.

"This is your room."

He pushed it open.

The room stole my breath.

Cream-colored walls.

A fireplace already burning.

Fresh flowers arranged beside the bed.

A balcony overlooking endless gardens.

Nothing about it resembled a prison.

"I'll have dinner sent up."

"I'm not hungry."

"I wasn't asking."

I folded my arms.

"You're becoming bossy."

"I'm your husband."

"I noticed."

"And?"

"I don't take orders."

For the first time since the wedding...

He laughed.

Soft.

Brief.

Dangerously attractive.

"You'll be difficult."

"I plan to be."

"I've noticed."

He turned to leave.

"Dante."

He stopped.

"My father..."

His shoulders stiffened.

"What about him?"

"He wouldn't have agreed to this marriage unless he had no choice."

"I know."

"Then why does it feel like everyone knows something I don't?"

Silence.

Heavy.

When he finally turned back, something unreadable flickered across his face.

"They do."

"And you're one of them."

"Yes."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"No."

Anger burned in my chest.

"You expect me to trust you while you keep secrets?"

"No."

His eyes met mine.

"I expect you to hate me."

The words landed harder than they should have.

"But..." he said quietly,

"I hope one day you'll understand why I stayed silent."

He walked out.

The door clicked shut behind him.

I stood there for several long moments before walking onto the balcony.

The estate stretched beneath the moonlight.

Guards patrolled every path.

No one entered.

No one left.

Then I saw him.

Dante stood beneath an old oak tree, speaking quietly into his phone.

A moment later...

He looked up.

Straight at my window.

Our eyes met across the darkness.

He didn't smile.

He didn't wave.

He simply held my gaze before saying four quiet words into the phone.

"She's still awake."

My breath caught.

Who was he talking to?

The call ended.

He slipped the phone into his pocket and disappeared into the shadows.

I should have gone inside.

Instead, I remained frozen on the balcony, unable to shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

Then the telephone beside my bed rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

A chill crept down my spine.

Slowly, I picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

For a moment...

Only breathing answered.

Then a man's voice whispered,

"Lock your bedroom door tonight, Mrs. Marchetti."

The line went dead.