Owned By the man that RUINED my family

Chapter 3

Arielle

The room didn’t feel like mine.

It was too clean. Too perfect. Like nobody had ever cried in it, or screamed, or stayed up all night replaying every bad decision that led them here.

The bed was massive. The windows were tall. The curtains heavy enough to block out the world if I wanted to disappear inside them.

I sat on the edge of the mattress, hands trembling.

I shouldn’t be here.

I shouldn’t be anywhere near Dante Cross.

And yet… here I was. In his house. Under his roof. Owing him something I didn’t understand and didn’t ask for.

I stood and paced, every step echoing my nerves. My phone was useless—no service, no messages, nothing from the few people who used to care before my father’s arrest made me radioactive.

I hugged myself.

This was temporary. That’s what I told myself.

I’d figure something out. A job. A couch. A way out.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.

My heart jumped.

I didn’t answer.

The door opened anyway.

Dante stood there, his presence filling the doorway like the house itself had decided to speak. He held a folded stack of clothes in his hand.

“You didn’t eat,” he said.

“I’m not hungry.”

Lie.

He stepped inside, setting the clothes on the dresser like he belonged in my space—which, apparently, he did.

“You should shower,” he added. “You’ve had a long day.”

I stiffened. “I don’t need you telling me what to do.”

His gaze softened just a fraction. “I know.”

Silence stretched between us.

I hated how aware I was of him. The way the room felt smaller. Warmer. Like something invisible had shifted the moment he crossed the threshold.

“Why are you really doing this?” I asked quietly.

His eyes darkened.

“Because if I don’t,” he said, “you won’t be safe.”

I scoffed. “From who? You?”

He didn’t answer right away.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said finally.

Something about his tone made my stomach twist.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

He looked at me like he was measuring how much truth I could survive.

“You don’t know how deep this goes,” he said. “And I won’t explain it tonight.”

“Then stop pretending this is about kindness.”

“I never said it was.”

My breath caught.

The honesty in his voice scared me more than lies would have.

“Get some rest,” he said, turning toward the door. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

He paused, hand on the frame.

“And Arielle?”

I looked up.

“You should lock the door tonight,” he said. “Not because of me.”

Then he left.

I stood there long after the door closed, my pulse racing, every nerve on edge.

I locked the door.

Then I slid down against it, heart pounding, realizing something I hadn’t wanted to admit since the moment he said I’d come with him.

Dante Cross wasn’t the danger.

He was the warning.

And whatever was coming next?

It was already too close.