Chapter 4
692 Words
That night, Aria stood on the penthouse balcony, the cool wind tugging at her hair. The emerald dress still clung to her body. She hugged herself tightly, trying to hold together the pieces of her fracturing world.
Dante joined her minutes later, draping his suit jacket over her shoulders. The warmth and his scent enveloped her immediately.
“Cold?” he asked, voice quieter than usual.
Aria nodded, not trusting herself to speak at first. “Everything feels like too much,” she finally whispered. “The contract. This place. You.”
Dante turned her gently to face him. His gray eyes searched hers. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”
“I’m terrified,” she admitted, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I’m weak. Pitiful. I cry all the time. How am I supposed to survive seven years with someone like you?”
His thumb wiped the tears away with surprising care. “You’re not weak. You’re surviving. That’s different.” He pulled her against his chest, one hand stroking her back. “And you won’t be doing it alone.”
Aria melted into the embrace despite every warning in her head. His heartbeat was steady. Strong. For a moment, the ruthless mafia billionaire felt like an anchor.
“I don’t understand why you’re being kind sometimes,” she murmured against his shirt.
“Because breaking you serves no purpose,” Dante answered honestly. “I want you willing. I want you to choose me eventually.” His arms tightened possessively. “Even if it takes time.”
They stayed like that for long minutes. Aria’s breathing gradually calmed. When she looked up, Dante’s face was inches from hers. The tension crackled between them.
He leaned down slowly. Their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss. Aria gasped softly, but didn’t pull away. The kiss deepened for several heartbeats—gentle yet hungry—before Dante pulled back with visible restraint.
“That was real,” he said, voice rough. “Not part of any game.”
Aria touched her tingling lips, eyes wide with confusion and longing. “I don’t know what I’m feeling anymore.”
“You don’t have to,” he replied, resting his forehead against hers. “Just let me lead for now.”
His phone rang sharply, shattering the moment. Dante answered, his body instantly tensing.
“Marco. Repeat that.” His expression turned lethal. “Victor has Luca? Tonight?”
Aria clutched his arm, panic flooding her. “No… please…”
Dante hung up and looked down at her, eyes blazing. “Victor Lang wants a meeting. He’s using your brother as leverage. He demands you be there.”
Tears streamed down Aria’s face. “He’ll hurt Luca. I know it.”
“I won’t let that happen,” Dante vowed, cupping her face with both hands. “But you need to be stronger than this, Aria. Starting now.”
He led her to the private gym in the penthouse. For the next hour, he guided her through basic self-defense moves—how to break a hold, how to use her small size to her advantage. Aria tried hard, but her movements were clumsy and weak.
“I can’t do this,” she sobbed after failing to escape his gentle grip for the fifth time. “I’m not built for your world.”
Dante pinned her carefully against the mats, his body hovering over hers. “You are now,” he said firmly. “Because I say so.”
He helped her up and pulled her close again. “Tomorrow we face Victor. Together. And you will stand beside me as my wife.”
Aria nodded through her tears, clinging to him. Fear still consumed her, but Dante’s strength and the memory of his kiss gave her the tiniest thread of hope.
As they left the gym, Dante’s expression darkened once more. “Victor thinks he can break me through you. He has no idea what he’s starting.”
Aria looked up at the man who now controlled her life.
The real storm was coming.
And she was caught right in the center of it.
- Writer
