CHAPTER TWO
682 Words
Isabella
“I will not marry him,” I yelled at my father.
My father didn’t look at me. “You don’t have a choice.”
The house felt suffocating. Guards outside. Tension everywhere. “What did you do?” I demanded.
Silence. Then finally, “I made a deal.”
“With a criminal?”
“With the most powerful man in this city.”
My stomach dropped. “You sold me.” I never believed my father would just hand me out to another man. A man I don't love. My parents had the best marriage and I've always wanted what they had. After my mum died he changed.
His eyes finally met mine. “I saved this family.”
That was the moment I realized something worse than the murder.
My father was afraid of Dante.
Which meant I should be terrified. But I wasn’t. I'm foolish for that. Dante is the most dangerous man you could ever come across. I was lucky to leave with my life. But being married to him, I'm not sure I'll survive it.
The wedding happened fast. Private chapel. No press. No guests. Just armed men lining the walls. Dante stood at the altar like he owned the world, maybe he did.
When I reached him, he leaned down slightly. “You look beautiful,” he said quietly.
“Go to hell.” I might be standing on the altar today, but I refuse to play the dotting wife. I'll escape him one way or another.
A slow smirk. “You’re already marrying the devil.” He looked at me, expecting me to run.
Fear ran through me, men like Dante enjoyed the chase. I'll bid my time.
The vows felt like chains. When he slid the ring onto my finger, his grip lingered. Possessive. Claiming.
When he kissed me, it wasn’t gentle. It was a warning. A promise. A declaration of ownership.
That night, I was taken to his mansion. Cold stone. High gates. Security everywhere. My prison. This will never be my home. I'll be his worse nightmare.
He dismissed everyone with a glance.
"Where's my room?" I asked already hating his presence.
"It's funny that you think you have one. You are my wife. Your place is with me." He smirked
"No, I demand my own space." I yelled, my anger getting the best of me.
"You are no one to demand things, wife. You'll spend your nights in our room, and you'll play the ever loving wife." His face stern.
I decided not to push further. Even if I'll never admit it, I fear for my life. Dante is as ruthless as they come.
He led me to his bedroom. “You’re afraid,” he observed.
“I’m not. I'll never be scared of you.” I retorted
“You’re shaking.”
I hated that he was right.
He stepped closer. “You think I forced this marriage for politics?” he asked.
“Didn’t you?”
His hand pressed against the wall beside my head. “No.” His voice dropped. “I married you because someone tried to use you against me.”
My heart stuttered. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” he said slowly, “you were always going to belong to me.” His fingers brushed my waist. Gentle. Almost careful.
Which scared me more than violence. “I don’t belong to anyone,” I whispered.
His eyes darkened. “We’ll see.”
"I hope you don't plan on consummating this sham of a marriage?" I asked through closed teeth.
"Trust me, wife. When I touch you, it'll be because you begged me." He smiled smugly.
"That will never happen." I said.
"Oh, it will, and I'll wait to savour the moment."
"Then you'll be waiting a lifetime." I smiled, then turned and left for what I could only hope to bet the bathroom. Locking the door behind me and letting out a breath. I let myself breakdown. For the first time since hearing that I'll be marrying Dante. I cried.
- Writer
