Chapter 2
977 Words
Aria sat rigid in the back of the sleek black SUV, her hands clenched so tightly in her lap that her nails dug into her palms. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows as they left Brooklyn behind. Every breath felt like a struggle.
Dante occupied the seat beside her, scrolling through his phone with calm detachment. The scent of his cologne—dark, expensive, masculine—filled the confined space and made her even more aware of how trapped she was.
“Stop shaking,” Dante said without looking up, his deep voice cutting through the silence like a command. “It’s irritating.”
“I’m sorry,” Aria whispered, her voice barely audible. Fresh tears welled in her hazel eyes. “I just… I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. Or to Luca.”
Dante finally turned his piercing gray eyes on her. He studied her trembling form for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “Your brother is alive because you signed the contract. That should be enough for now.”
Aria bit her lip to hold back a sob. “He’s all I have left. After Mom and Dad died, it was just us. I worked three jobs so he could… so we could survive.” Her shoulders shook. “And now I’ve sold myself to a stranger.”
“You didn’t sell yourself,” Dante corrected, his tone firm but not entirely cruel. “You made a deal. Seven years. My rules. My protection.” He reached over and brushed a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. The unexpected gentleness made her flinch, then lean slightly into the touch despite herself. “And I keep what’s mine safe.”
The SUV pulled into an underground garage beneath a gleaming Manhattan skyscraper. Dante stepped out first and offered his hand. Aria hesitated before placing her smaller, cold fingers in his warm grip. He pulled her out effortlessly.
Inside the private elevator, the mirrored walls reflected her pitiful state—puffy eyes, messy chestnut hair, cheap clothes that looked ridiculous next to Dante’s tailored black suit. She looked exactly like what she was: a broke waitress who didn’t belong.
“Eyes up,” Dante ordered quietly when he noticed her staring at the floor. “You’re my wife now. Start acting like it.”
“I don’t know how,” Aria admitted, her voice cracking. “I’ve never even been on a proper date. And now I’m married to someone like you.”
The elevator doors opened directly into the penthouse. Aria’s breath caught. Marble floors stretched endlessly. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the glittering New York skyline. Everything screamed wealth and power.
“This is your new home,” Dante said, releasing her hand but staying close. “For the next seven years.”
Aria walked slowly through the massive living room, feeling smaller with every step. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured. “But it doesn’t feel like home.”
Dante watched her with those intense gray eyes. “It will. In time.” He led her down a wide hallway and opened a door. “This is your room. Mine is across the hall.”
The bedroom was luxurious—a king-sized bed with silk sheets, a walk-in closet already stocked with elegant clothes in her size, and an attached bathroom that looked like a spa. Aria touched the soft fabric of a cream dress hanging inside the closet, tears spilling over again.
“How did you know my size?” she asked, turning to him with wide, frightened eyes.
“I make it my business to know everything about what belongs to me,” Dante replied simply. He stepped closer until he towered over her. “You’ll wear what I choose when we go out. For now, change into something comfortable. Then we talk.”
Aria nodded quickly, too scared to argue. She disappeared into the bathroom and emerged ten minutes later in one of the soft silk nightgowns provided. It clung gently to her petite frame. Dante was waiting by the window, arms crossed.
“Sit,” he commanded, gesturing to the bed.
She perched on the edge, hands folded in her lap. “What are the rules?” she asked in a small voice.
Dante listed them without hesitation. “No leaving the penthouse without my permission or security. No contact with your old life unless I approve. You will learn how to behave in my world—how to dress, how to speak, how to stand beside me. And you will never betray me.” His gaze darkened. “If you do, the consequences will be severe. For you and your brother.”
Aria’s lower lip trembled. “I won’t betray you. I just want to survive this.”
Dante sat beside her on the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight. He took her chin gently but firmly, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Good girl,” he murmured. The words sent an unwanted warmth through her chest. “You’re scared now. That’s normal. But I can make this easier for you.”
He leaned in slowly. For a terrifying, thrilling second, Aria thought he might kiss her. Instead, his lips brushed her forehead in a surprisingly tender gesture.
“Sleep,” he said, standing up. “Tomorrow starts your new life.”
As he reached the door, Aria called out softly, “Dante?”
He paused, looking back.
“Thank you… for not hurting Luca tonight.” Her voice was pitiful and grateful all at once.
Dante’s expression softened for the briefest moment. “Get some rest, Aria.”
The door closed behind him. Aria curled up under the expensive sheets and cried herself to sleep, torn between terror and the confusing spark his touch had ignited.
- Writer
