Chapter8
500 Words
Sofia paced the living room while Aria huddled on the couch. “My brother is the best at what he does. He’ll be fine.”
“But what if he’s not?” Aria whispered, tears flowing freely. “If he dies, Victor will come for me and Luca.”
Sofia sat beside her. “Then you fight. Dante believes in you. Show him he’s right.”
Hours later, Dante returned with a bloody gash on his arm. Aria rushed to him, sobbing. “You’re hurt!”
“It’s nothing,” he growled, but let her help him to the bedroom.
She cleaned the wound with shaking hands. “I was so scared. Don’t leave me like that again.”
Dante caught her wrist gently. “I’m not going anywhere, Aria.” He pulled her down for a fierce kiss, pain and adrenaline mixing with desire.
That night, their intimacy deepened. Dante was careful yet dominant, whispering praises as Aria gave herself to him fully for the first time. “You’re mine,” he repeated against her skin. “All mine.”
In the afterglow, Aria traced a scar on his chest. “I think I’m falling for you,” she confessed, voice tiny. “Even though I shouldn’t.”
Dante held her tighter. “Good. Because I already decided you’re my forever.”
Morning brought more bad news. Marco arrived looking grim. “Victor leaked the documents. Our partners want proof the marriage is real and that Aria isn’t a spy.”
Dante’s jaw clenched. “We’ll host a gala. Show them she’s my queen.”
Aria paled. “A gala? I can’t. I’ll embarrass you.”
“You won’t,” Dante said firmly. “Sofia will prepare you. And I’ll be right beside you.”
Training intensified over the next days. Aria practiced walking in heels, smiling through fear, and basic self-defense. Each failure brought tears, but Dante’s steady encouragement—and stolen kisses—kept her going.
“You’re improving,” he told her one evening, pinning her gently during sparring. “My little fighter.”
Aria smiled weakly. “For you.”
The night before the gala, Victor sent a video. Luca was safe, but the message was clear: “One wrong move at the gala and your pretty wife learns the full truth about her bloodline.”
Dante deleted it, fury blazing. “He’s bluffing.”
But Aria saw the doubt in his eyes. She crawled into his arms. “Whatever happens, I choose you now. Contract or not.”
Dante kissed her with raw emotion. “That’s all I need.”
As they dressed for the gala, Aria stood in a stunning black gown. Dante zipped it slowly, hands lingering.
“You look breathtaking,” he murmured.
Aria turned, heart full yet terrified. “Promise me we’ll survive this.”
Dante’s gray eyes burned with promise. “I swear it.”
They stepped into the elevator.
Outside, armed men waited in the shadows—Victor’s.
- Writer
