A Mafia Werewolf Romance

Chapter 3: The One-Week Contract

Early in the morning, Sera was woken up by a knock on the door. Staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, she was momentarily stunned. She then sat up and looked around before realizing what had happened last night.

"Who is it?" Sera asked groggily.

A girl who looked like a maid responded outside the door, "Hello, Miss Sera. Mr. Moretti said breakfast is ready. Please come down to have breakfast. The new clothes have already been placed in your room."

Last night's delicate evening dress was gone completely. On the chair beside the window lay brand-new outfit that fit her perfectly, made of smooth, soft gray fabric that looked incredibly high-quality. Sera thought: this dress must be more expensive than her tuition. Besides the dress, there was also a set of underwear that matched her body, and Sera's face warmed a little when she saw it. She quickly put them on, because there was no other choice, and the alternative was to go out without clothes.

Dante was already seat quietly at the dining table, focused on reading something on a tablet. The bright morning sun streaming off the bay sliced the minimalist room into sharp halves of light and shadow. He did not bother to look up even after she quietly sat down opposite him

"Eat." Dante spoke up.

It was the best food she had ever tasted, When she first came downstairs, she didn't feel hungry, but the house was filled with the aroma of fried meat, the toasty smell of baked bread mixed with the subtle sweet and sour of berries, and the ceramic tableware reflected arcs of light in the morning sun. She sat at the dining table, holding a fork, taking small bites of the fried meat, and before she knew it, she had finished the food in front of her, yet still felt capable of eating more.

While eating, she was very focused, so focused that she hardly noticed him, burying herself in her meal. Dante sat there, watching her eat, feeling very pleased. This beautiful person, whatever they did, made people feel like watching a very visually enjoyable movie.

When she finished eating, a man in a dark coat came out. She recognized him from the curb, the one who had held the car door, and now he placed a single sheet of paper in front of her, a pen beside it.

"Enzo Riva," the man said, by way of introduction. I'm responsible for explaining the details of the contract to you."

Enzo pulled a folder out of his briefcase and laid it in front of Cera. There was a sheet of paper inside. The paper was a contract. Not the kind her father signed, not pages of clauses and annexes. One page. She read it twice because she couldn't believe it was that simple.

one week. Seven nights. She'll stay in the penthouse. She'll go with him wherever he needs to go. She won't tell anyone. When this week is over, she'll leave, owe nothing, take nothing, and the name Voss will get the contract for the Moon Eclipse project.

Her father was not mentioned anywhere. As if the man who had sold her had already been paid, and erased.

"The alternative," Dante said, not looking up from his tablet, "is the elevator. No one will stop you. Similarly, go back and tell your father that everything will follow the normal procedure. If he's willing, let him compete fairly!"

Elevator? Sera thought, what could she do if she went back now? She walked through the garage and out onto the street. Back in front of her father, back to the few remnants of the Voss family name, back to the week's bills she had refused to pay, bills that would be sent to everyone who worked for him.

She picked up the pen.

Her hands were steady. Actually, after last night, these things didn't feel quite as hard to accept, which surprised her. The closer the pen tip got to the line, the steadier her hand became instead of shaking. She signed her name, the only thing she was allowed to truly call her Own.

Sera Voss.

Dante picked up the piece of paper. He didn't look at the content, just stared at the signature on it for a long time, then waved his hand, signaling Enzo to put the contract away.

"The week starts now," he said.

"Now what?" she asked.

"Now you learn the rules." He stood, and the whole room seemed to tilt toward him. "There are three. You don't lie to me. You don't run from me. And you don't ask me what I feel."

She almost laughed. Almost. "That's it?"

"That's everything." He walked past her toward the elevator, Enzo following behind him. When he reached the door, he stopped and said without looking back, "One more thing. Don't dress like this stuff doesn't belong to you. What's yours is yours."

The cold-metallic elevator doors slid shut, cutting off the sight of his tall figure completely.

The vast full-glass penthouse was unnervingly quiet. Morning gales from the bay swept through the floor-to-ceiling windows, lifting the sheer curtains. The cool sea breeze brushed her hair, carrying the sharp, briny dampness unique to the deep ocean. The whole expanse of blue sea stretched out before her eyes; morning light shattered across the rolling waves in endless ripples of gilded sparkle. Yet this overwhelming, magnificent beauty registered in her gaze only as a biting desolation.

Silence hung over the room, leaving her standing alone amid this opulent emptiness The well-fitted grey fabric draped softly over her frame, luxurious and flawlessly tailored, yet it only served to render her all the smaller and more fragile

She dropped her gaze to the polished marble floor, her heart turning cold inside he chest.

She understood fully at last: what she had set down on paper was far more than a signature. She had bound herself to a terrible, beguiling devil in a fateful seven-day contract.