Contracted To The Ruthless Mafia Billionaire

Chapter5

Aria stood frozen on the balcony, Dante’s suit jacket still heavy on her shoulders. The city lights blurred through fresh tears. Victor Lang. The name alone made her stomach twist with fear she couldn’t name.

“Who is Victor Lang?” she asked the moment Dante stepped back inside. Her voice came out small and shaky, exactly how she felt.

Dante paused, his broad back rigid in the dim light. He turned slowly, gray eyes locking onto hers with that same commanding intensity. “Someone who wants what’s mine. You don’t need to worry about him.”

“But I do,” Aria whispered, stepping closer even though her legs trembled. “I’m your wife now. On paper at least. If someone is coming here…” Her breath hitched. “I deserve to know.”

Dante’s jaw tightened. He crossed the room in two strides and cupped her face with both hands. His touch was firm, controlling, yet the warmth of his palms sent confusing sparks across her skin. “You deserve nothing except what I choose to give you, Aria. That’s the contract. Remember?”

Tears slipped down her cheeks again. She hated how pitiful she sounded, but the words tumbled out anyway. “I signed it to save Luca. I gave up everything. Please… don’t shut me out completely. I’m already so scared.” Her voice broke on the last word.

Something shifted in Dante’s expression. The ruthless mask cracked for a second. His thumb brushed her lower lip, slower this time. “Fear keeps you alive in my world,” he murmured. “But I won’t let anyone touch you. Not Victor. Not anyone.”

He pulled her against his chest. Aria stiffened at first, then melted into the solid heat of him. His heartbeat was steady and strong under her ear. For one fragile moment, she felt protected instead of owned.

“I don’t understand why you chose me,” she whispered against his shirt. “I’m nobody. Weak. Always crying.”

“You’re mine,” he answered simply, voice low and rough. “That’s enough reason.” His hand stroked down her back in slow, possessive circles. The touch wasn’t gentle exactly, but it wasn’t cruel either. Aria’s heart fluttered despite the terror still coiled in her belly.

A sharp knock echoed through the penthouse. Dante’s body went rigid. He set her aside gently but firmly. “Stay here. Do not come out until I say.”

Aria nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as he strode toward the living room. She pressed herself against the balcony door, heart hammering. Voices drifted in—deep, tense, dangerous.

“Boss, Lang’s men were spotted near the warehouse,” a man said. “They’re testing us. Word is they want the girl too. They heard about the contract.”

Aria’s blood turned to ice. They wanted her?

Dante’s voice cut through like a blade. “Tell Marco to double security. And get Luca on the line. I want him moved to a safer location tonight.”

“Already done,” the man replied. “But Lang is spreading rumors. Says the Voss girl is the key to breaking your empire. Old family ties or something.”

Dante laughed coldly. “Let him spread lies. Aria belongs to me now. End of story.”

The conversation continued in low, clipped tones. Aria slid down the wall until she sat on the cold floor, knees drawn to her chest. Old family ties? What did that mean? Her mother had died when she was twelve. There was nothing special about her family. Just poverty and pain.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. Finally, the front door closed with a heavy thud. Footsteps approached. Dante appeared in the balcony doorway, towering over her.

“Get up,” he ordered softly.

Aria tried. Her legs shook too badly. Fresh tears burned her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so useless.”

Dante sighed and bent down. In one smooth motion he lifted her into his arms like she weighed nothing. Aria gasped, instinctively clutching his shoulders. His scent—dark spice and danger—wrapped around her.

“You’re not useless,” he said against her hair as he carried her inside. “You’re adjusting. That takes time.” He set her on the edge of her bed but didn’t step back. Instead he knelt in front of her, gray eyes level with hers. “Look at me, Aria.”

She did. The intensity in his gaze pinned her in place.

“I protect what’s mine,” he repeated. “Tonight that means keeping you close. You sleep in my room.”

Her eyes widened. “But you said—”

“Plans change when threats appear.” His tone left no room for argument. He stood and offered his hand. “Come.”

Aria hesitated only a second before slipping her small hand into his large one. His fingers closed possessively around hers. As they walked down the hall, her heart raced with a confusing mix of fear and something warmer.

Dante’s bedroom was even more luxurious than hers—massive bed, dark silk sheets, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city. He released her hand and began unbuttoning his shirt. Aria turned away quickly, cheeks flaming.

“You can look,” he said, amusement threading his voice for the first time. “We’re married, remember?”

“I… I’m not ready for that,” she whispered, voice trembling. “Please.”

Dante stopped. He crossed to her and turned her gently to face him. His shirt hung open, revealing hard muscle and faint scars that made her breath catch. “I’m not going to force you, Aria. Not tonight. Not ever like that.” His hand tilted her chin up. “But I need you close where I can keep you safe.”

Relief flooded her, followed by unexpected gratitude. “Thank you,” she breathed.

He handed her one of his soft black t-shirts. “Change in the bathroom. Then bed.”

Aria obeyed quickly. The shirt swallowed her petite frame, falling to mid-thigh. When she emerged, Dante was already under the covers in sweatpants, chest bare. He lifted the blanket on the other side.

She slid in, keeping as much distance as possible. The mattress dipped under his weight as he turned toward her.

“Closer,” he commanded quietly.

Aria inched over until their bodies nearly touched. Dante’s arm slid around her waist, pulling her firmly against him. Her back pressed to his warm chest. She could feel every breath he took.

“Sleep,” he murmured into her hair. “I’ve got you.”

For the first time since signing that contract, Aria felt a fragile thread of safety. His heartbeat lulled her. Just as her eyes grew heavy, Dante spoke again.

“Tomorrow you start training. Self-defense. Business basics. No more crying in corners. You’re going to become someone this world can’t break.”

Aria’s voice was barely audible. “Will you help me?”

“Every step,” he promised, tightening his hold. “You’re mine to protect. Mine to shape.”

His words should have terrified her. Instead they wrapped around her bruised heart like a dark promise. She fell asleep in the arms of the most dangerous man in New York, wondering if she was losing herself or finally being found.

The next morning sunlight streamed across the bed. Aria woke to find Dante already dressed in a crisp black suit, watching her from the doorway. His expression was unreadable.

“Get dressed,” he said. “We have visitors. And you’re going to meet them as my wife.”

She sat up, heart pounding. “Who?”

“People who need to believe this marriage is real.” He stepped closer, eyes darkening. “Smile for them, Aria. Even if you’re scared. Especially if you’re scared.”

Aria nodded, swallowing hard. She chose a simple cream dress he had provided—modest but elegant. When she stepped out, Dante’s gaze swept over her with clear approval. He adjusted the thin gold chain around her neck, fingers lingering at her collarbone.

“Perfect,” he murmured. “Now remember: you belong to me. Act like it.”

The living room held three men in expensive suits. They rose when Dante entered with Aria at his side, his hand possessive on her lower back.

“Gentlemen,” Dante said smoothly. “Meet my wife, Aria Moretti.”

The tallest visitor smiled, but his eyes were cold. “So this is the girl who cost Luca Voss two million. Pretty little thing. Fragile, though.”

Aria’s cheeks burned with humiliation. She forced a small smile anyway. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said softly, voice steadier than she felt.

Dante’s fingers pressed warningly into her back. “My wife is not fragile,” he stated, voice like velvet over steel. “She’s adjusting to her new life. And she’s off-limits for discussion.”

The men chuckled, but tension thickened the air. One of them leaned forward. “Lang is asking questions about her family. Says there’s history between the Voss and Moretti lines. Something about her mother.”

Aria stiffened. Her mother?

Dante’s hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer. “Old rumors. Nothing more. Now, shall we discuss the real reason you’re here?”

The conversation turned to shipments and territory. Aria stayed quiet, but her mind raced. History? What history? She had never even heard the name Moretti before yesterday.

After twenty minutes, the visitors left. The moment the door closed, Aria turned to Dante.

“What did they mean about my mother?” she demanded, voice shaking with emotion. “Tell me the truth.”

Dante studied her for a long moment. Then he sighed and led her to the couch. He sat and pulled her onto his lap so she faced him. His hands rested on her hips.

“Your mother worked for my father years ago,” he said carefully. “Before you were born. There was… an affair. She left suddenly. That’s all I know.”

Aria’s world tilted. Tears flooded her eyes. “She never told us. She died thinking I’d never know.” Her voice cracked. “Why didn’t you say anything when you took me?”

“Because it didn’t matter then,” Dante answered. His grip tightened. “Now it might. Victor Lang is digging. He thinks he can use you against me.”

Aria buried her face in his neck, sobbing quietly. “I’m just a pawn again. Even my past is being used.”

Dante’s arms came around her fully. One hand stroked her hair with surprising gentleness. “Not anymore,” he whispered fiercely. “You’re my queen now, whether you feel like one or not. And I destroy anyone who tries to hurt what’s mine.”

He tilted her face up. Their eyes locked. For a heartbeat, the ruthless mafia billionaire looked almost vulnerable. Then his lips brushed hers—soft, testing, full of controlled hunger.

Aria gasped against his mouth. The kiss deepened for a few seconds before he pulled back, breathing harder.

“That was real,” he said roughly. “Not for show.”

Her lips tingled. Confusion and longing warred inside her chest. “I don’t know what to feel anymore,” she admitted, voice small.

Dante rested his forehead against hers. “Feel safe. That’s enough for now.”

His phone rang again. He answered without letting her go. His expression darkened instantly.

“Marco. What do you mean Lang has Luca?”

Aria’s blood ran cold. She clutched Dante’s shirt.

Dante listened, then hung up. His gray eyes met hers, blazing with controlled fury.

“Victor took your brother as leverage. He wants a meeting tonight. With you present.”

Aria’s heart shattered all over again. “No… Luca…”

Dante stood, setting her on her feet but keeping her close. His voice was steel. “We’ll go. Together. And you will watch me remind Victor exactly who controls this city.”

He cupped her tear-streaked face. “But first, you train. Two hours. Now. I need you stronger than this.”

Aria nodded through her sobs, fear and determination mixing in her chest. She was still weak. Still pitiful in so many ways.

But Dante’s kiss still burned on her lips. And for the first time, she wanted to become the woman who could stand beside him—not just as his contract wife, but as something real.

As they headed toward the private gym in the penthouse, Aria glanced at the city beyond the windows.

Somewhere out there, danger waited.

And she was walking straight into it with the most powerful, terrifying man she had ever known.