Contract Of The 7th Wife

Chapter 1: Beautiful execution

Dana’s POV

“Get your hands off your father’s wife, Riccardo Ferraro!”

The voice cut through the dark penthouse. Enzo Dominici stepped into the room. “How long has this been going on?”

Riccardo couldn’t utter a word.

“She's your stepmother, Riccardo," Enzo said. "This is going to get you killed.”

A few minutes earlier, I had been rehearsing a sultry dance for my fifty-eight-year-old husband. He had promised to join me in twenty-five minutes, right before these men broke in to shatter my moment. Before Riccardo could even speak, Enzo lunged forward, grabbed the Ferraro heir, and violently yanked him off me.

Riccardo stumbled backward, his face tight with the same frantic energy that had been terrorizing me for months. He smelled heavily of scotch.

“She's not his wife!” Riccardo snapped. “She's just an escort my father bought in Monaco. A cheap gutter girl he uses as a shield.”

Enzo didn't back down. He stepped directly between us, blocking me with his broad shoulders like a wall. But when Enzo turned his head to see if I was hurt, our eyes locked. In that brief silence, I could tell he was shaken. He had broken every rule to defend me from my thirty-four-year-old stepson, but I knew exactly how to save myself. If anyone in this penthouse or the entire Ferraro estate needed a savior, it was the Ferraros.

This dance…this sultry rehearsal…was the only intimacy I shared with my husband. But to my stepson, it was the exact trigger that drove him insane. My presence in these spaces crushed his ego every single time. For the entire duration of my marriage, I knew Riccardo had been standing by the door, watching me dance.

Enzo, however, had only found out recently. Enzo was a puzzle I couldn't afford to solve. Getting close to him would be a literal death sentence. He was the son of Carlo Dominici, the owner of Dominici Security & Logistic Group, my husband's closest business partner. To make matters worse, Enzo was engaged to Sofia, Riccardo’s vicious sister. Loving me could destroy his entire family empire, yet the raw, protective look in his gray eyes told me he didn't care about the consequences.

Enzo pushed me behind him. “Step back, Riccardo. I won't warn you again.”

“Why are you defending her?” Riccardo yelled, stepping forward chest-to-chest with Enzo. “You’re interfering because you don’t see the way she dances up here at night. You don't see the moves or what she wears. All for my old man? She's doing this to drive me crazy! Name your price, Dana! I’ll double whatever contract my father used to lock you in this mansion. I want you all to myself. I want you in my world. This dance should be for me, not him!”

I kept my face perfectly smooth, playing the fragile, submissive role they all expected. While my thumb subtly rested on the tracking bezel of my hidden watch, I let them think they were fighting over a helpless prize. They had no idea I was a highly trained agent, intentionally weaving a web around Riccardo to break the Ferraro bloodline.

Before Riccardo could move, the heavy echo of leather shoes down the marble corridor instantly changed the room. Enzo immediately stepped away from me.

Vincenzo Ferraro walked in. At fifty-eight, the patriarch commanded submission without raising his voice. He saw Riccardo’s obsession, Enzo’s defense, and me, standing silently in my custom performance dress.

“What is the meaning of this?” Vincenzo’s low rumble made both younger men tense.

Enzo adjusted his posture, completely hiding his nerves. “A simple security briefing, Uncle Vincenzo,” Enzo lied without a single tremor in his voice. “Riccardo and Sofia were having an explosive argument over logistics, and things got out of hand near the penthouse corridor. I stepped in to de-escalate.”

Vincenzo didn't buy it. His paranoia was lethal. He looked at me, his eyes lingering coldly on the form-fitting silk of my dress. I was not the woman in my husband's heart. No woman had ever been there. To him, women were shields, temporary tools to be used and disposed of. He had survived six wives. Some were divorced, some were rumored dead, and others had vanished completely without a trace.

But one thing was certain: I was the seventh, and I would be the last.

“Enzo, leave the estate immediately,” Vincenzo ordered. “And Riccardo, this is a private space for your stepmother and me. Don't trespass, son. If I catch you neglecting business to wander near my private quarters late at night again, I will strip your executive title before sunrise. Move.”

Without another word, both younger men backed out of the penthouse. Right before Enzo turned the corner, he gave me a long look, full of a quiet promise to protect me.

Vincenzo didn't look at me. He just stared out the glass window. “Go to the nursery, Dana. Fulfill your contract. The child is crying. I'm not in the mood for entertainment tonight. Now, move.”

“Yes, Vincenzo,” I whispered, looking down at the floor.

The moment the heavy doors shut, the act was over. My submissive posture vanished. I walked straight to the nursery crib and lifted baby Elio against my shoulder, rocking him until he stopped fussing. I had been trapped in this house for one hundred and sixty-six days now, a contract that wouldn't expire until this little boy turned six. Yet, looking into his tiny face, a chilling truth haunted me every single night: I was legally his mother, but I had absolutely no idea who his biological parents were, or how Vincenzo had truly gotten his hands on him.

I reached into the hidden lining of my dress, pulled out my encrypted phone, and pressed the button. An untraceable line connected, and my boss's voice came through my earpiece.

“Status report. Have you located the target?”

“Agent Dana reporting. The bloodline is breaking exactly as planned,” I murmured into the mic, watching my reflection in the window. “Riccardo is completely losing his mind over me. Enzo is stepping into the crossfire to protect me. I am deep inside their corporate affairs.”

“Good,” my boss replied. “Do not forget. You signed a life-long contract to be whatever I need until I get what I want. Play your part, and do not break our agreement.”

“I know my terms,” I muttered, and the line went dead.