Chapter six:The Threats
1290 Words
Sophie’s POV
When I opened my eyes the next morning, I realised something.
Silence wasn’t always calm.
Sometimes it was a warning.
I lay still for a moment, listening. No footsteps outside my door. No distant echo of lighting weapons or hushed conversations. Just an eerie stillness, like the house itself held its breath.
That was when I understood—whatever this day held, it was different.
I got out of bed and dressed in the clothes left for me. A subtle reminder: I was somewhere between protected and imprisoned. A ‘guest’ with a contract binding her life to a man she barely knew.
I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I looked different. Not weaker. Harder.
Not because I had changed overnight—but because accepting the situation meant adapting.
Surviving.
A knock on the door cut through my thoughts.
“Come in,” I called out, careful to keep my voice even.
The door opened, and an unfamiliar man entered. Tall, broad, buzz-cut hair. He looked like a soldier—no, not a soldier. A man who’d learned obedience through violence.
“Mr. Moretti wants to see you,” he said flatly.
I nodded. “Lead the way.”
He didn’t respond. Just turned and walked. I followed him down the long corridor I was starting to memorise. The mansion remained grand, but I noticed details I’d overlooked yesterday—reinforced doors, discreet motion sensors, the way every window had a potential blind spot.
A fortress.
Not built to keep danger out.
Built to contain it.
We stopped in front of a different set of doors today. They were larger, darker. The guard opened one and stepped aside.
Dante sat behind an enormous desk, reviewing a document. Two other men stood near him—Marco and someone I hadn’t met. I walked in and waited. He didn’t look up.
The other men did.
Marco offered a small nod of acknowledgment. The other man just stared.
Dante finally spoke.
“Sit,” he said coldly, without lifting his gaze.
I did.
He finished reading the page, then closed the file and looked at me.
“You’ll be going somewhere today,” he said.
My heartbeat stumbled. “Somewhere?”
“A medical facility,” he clarified. “To sign off on the health and legitimacy documentation before the marriage process is finalized through private legal channels.”
I blinked. “A… health evaluation.” My voice wasn’t questioning—it was understanding.
He leaned back in his chair. “Everything in this arrangement must be clean. Legally and medically. There will be no mistakes tolerated.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
“But,” Marco spoke up, “there’s more.”
Dante’s jaw tensed.
“You won’t be going alone,” he said. “You’ll be under escort at all times. From now on, until the marriage is legally binding, there will be increased security.”
“Because of me?” I asked softly.
“Because of those who may question my choice,” Dante said. His eyes hardened. “And because word travels fast. Someone already knows you’re here.”
My stomach tightened.
“H-How?” I whispered.
Dante didn’t blink. “I have enemies, Sophie. I don’t hide that. You wear my future name now. That makes you…”
“A liability,” Marco finished calmly.
I swallowed.
Not a fiancée.
A weakness.
“I understand,” I said, sitting up straighter.
“Good,” Dante replied. “Then you won’t complain about what comes next.”
He stood.
It was in that moment I noticed the difference about him today—no suit jacket. Sleeves rolled to his elbows. A faint scar across one forearm, almost white from time. He moved like someone who’d done damage and expected more.
“We’re leaving in an hour,” he said. “Get ready.”
“I already am,” I said quietly.
He paused.
Then, for the first time since I had met him… a flicker of something crossed his eyes. Not softness. Not kindness.
Recognition.
That I was not here to break.
He nodded once. An almost imperceptible gesture.
Then turned.
“Don’t disappoint me,” he said without looking back.
⸻
Dante’s POV
She didn’t flinch.
She should have.
When I told her she was now a potential target, I expected fear. Tears, maybe. That’s what most people did when they realised exactly what it meant to be attached to me.
But she stayed still.
Composed.
She understood the threat.
And for the first time since this arrangement began, I wondered whether choosing her had been a calculated risk or a subconscious instinct.
I shoved that thought away.
Instincts got people killed.
I walked down the hall, Marco matching my pace.
“You like her,” he observed.
I stopped. Looked at him slowly.
“Choose your next words carefully,” I warned.
He didn’t back down. “Not like that. You respect her restraint.”
“Respect,” I echoed. “Is irrelevant.”
“You notice it,” he countered.
I kept walking.
“We have a problem,” he added after a moment.
“Which one?” I muttered.
“External,” he clarified. “Vargas’s men were seen across town last night. One of them asked about the girl who arrived here yesterday with you.”
My jaw locked.
So it began.
“He knows?” I asked.
Marco shrugged. “He suspects. Rumor spreads fast when Dante Moretti leaves an event with someone.”
I didn’t respond.
We reached the main entrance.
“I’ll go with her,” Marco offered.
“No,” I said. “I’ll go.”
He looked at me. “That wise?”
“No,” I replied. “But it’s necessary.”
“Why?” he asked, crossing his arms.
I paused.
Because if someone tried to harm her today…
I wanted to be the one standing between them.
I didn’t say that.
Instead: “Because this deal needs to start with control. If there is even the slightest attempt— I’ll end it myself.”
Marco said nothing for a moment. Then nodded.
“You haven’t been like this in a long time,” he remarked.
“I haven’t needed to be,” I said.
And for the second time that morning, I saw something in my reflection.
Movement.
⸻
Sophie’s POV
Thirty minutes later, I sat in the back of a bulletproof SUV, staring out at the world beyond the gates.
Freedom. But not really.
Dante sat beside me. Silent. Eyes forward.
Marco sat in front, next to the driver.
No one spoke.
The tension wasn’t awkward—it was lethal.
“Have you ever done this before?” Dante asked suddenly.
I turned to face him. “Done what?”
“Agreed to walk willingly into a wolf’s den,” he said.
My lips parted slightly. “I didn’t know I had a choice.”
“You don’t,” he replied.
He looked away again, and that was the end of the conversation.
But the way he said it… it wasn’t cruelty.
It was honesty.
As if he was used to people mistaking his truth for mercilessness.
I stared forward.
And whispered, just low enough for only me to hear.
“I will walk in with eyes open then.”
⸻
Marco’s POV
I watched them through the rearview mirror.
She didn’t know it, but the fact that Dante had chosen to escort her himself spoke volumes.
This wasn’t protection.
This was territory.
Dante Moretti wasn’t keeping her safe.
He was warning the world—
She is under me.
And anyone who touched her…
Would learn exactly what that meant.
- Writer
