Chapter 2 Episode 2

Dante's hand lingered on her chin, his touch unexpectedly gentle, though his words were anything but. Bella's mind raced, trying to make sense of everything that had happened in the past few hours. Just this morning, she'd been nothing more than a pawn in her uncle's game, a woman barely noticed in her own family. Now, she was a bride, promised to one of the most dangerous men in the city.

Her lips parted, but no words came out. What could she say? That she hadn't asked for any of this? That she had been tricked into this life? None of that mattered to Dante Romano. She could see it in the way his eyes bored into hers, reading her like an open book. He didn't care for her story. He only cared about what she could do, what she would be to him. A tool, a wife, a means to an end.

"You look terrified," he said quietly, his thumb grazing her jawline before he withdrew his hand. "Good. Fear will keep you alive here."

Bella's heart hammered in her chest. She opened her mouth again, but Dante had already stepped away, his gaze sweeping the room, avoiding her eyes now. He seemed distracted, as though she had already faded from his immediate focus.

"What happens now?" she asked, her voice hoarse. She had to know. This wasn't a normal marriage. This was an arrangement with someone who held more power than she could fathom.

Dante turned toward her, his posture stiffening. "Now, you learn to play the part of Mrs. Romano."

His words sent a chill through her, as if the identity of "Mrs. Romano" was something she could simply put on like a gown. "What if I don't?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The words were reckless, but she couldn't stop them. A part of her wanted to fight this, to find a way to push back against the cage she felt closing around her.

Dante's eyes darkened. "You don't have a choice." His voice was low, each word laced with quiet menace. "If you don't play your role, there will be consequences-consequences you won't like."

Bella's mouth went dry. She could feel the weight of his threat hanging in the air between them. But there was something else there too, a tension that felt less like danger and more like something unspoken, something thick with unacknowledged attraction.

"And what role is that?" she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

Dante stepped closer, and she could feel the heat of his body, the sheer presence of him overwhelming. He reached down and lifted a strand of her hair, twirling it around his fingers, his gaze never leaving hers. "You'll be the dutiful wife," he said softly. "The obedient bride who does what she's told."

The closeness of him made Bella's skin prickle, and for a moment, she couldn't move, couldn't breathe. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her, it was all so intimate and possessive-far more than anything she had anticipated.

"And in return?" she asked, trying to sound braver than she felt. "What do I get out of this?"

Dante's lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile. "You get to survive. You get protection. You get to stay alive in a world that would swallow you whole otherwise."

Bella's heart pounded in her ears. His words weren't an empty promise-they were a reality check. She was in his world now, and survival came with a price.

He released her hair, his hand drifting down, barely brushing her shoulder before he stepped back, giving her space to breathe. "You'll stay in the west wing for now," he said, his tone shifting to something more formal. "Someone will show you to your room."

"Separate rooms?" The question left her lips before she could think better of it.

Dante raised an eyebrow, amused. "Did you expect otherwise?"

Bella swallowed hard. She wasn't sure what she had expected. Nothing about this situation felt real yet, and her mind couldn't keep up with the storm of emotions swirling inside her. She felt trapped, but strangely, there was a part of her-an unfamiliar, reckless part-that wasn't entirely afraid of the trap.

"I'll have my men keep an eye on you," Dante continued, his voice calm but resolute. "You'll have the freedom to move within the estate, but don't mistake that for real freedom."

Bella looked up at him, searching for any sign of weakness, of something human beneath the layers of power and control he wore like armor. "Why do you trust me so little?" she asked softly.

His gaze flickered, just for a second, with something like doubt. But it was gone before she could read it. "Because I don't know you," he said simply, his tone cold again. "And in this world, trust is earned in blood, not words."

There was a knock at the door, breaking the tension in the room. Dante didn't take his eyes off her as he called out, "Come in."

A man entered-a tall, broad-shouldered figure with a sharp jawline and a clean-cut appearance. He bowed slightly, his expression stoic. "Mr. Romano, the arrangements have been made."

Dante nodded. "Good. Take Bella to her room."

The man's gaze shifted to Bella, his eyes lingering just long enough to make her uncomfortable. "Follow me, ma'am," he said, his tone polite but formal.

Bella glanced at Dante one last time, searching his face for any sign of... anything. Something that could give her a clue as to what he really thought of her, what he wanted from her. But his expression remained impassive, guarded.

She rose from the chair, the heavy gown whispering against the floor as she moved to follow the man. The study door closed behind her with a soft thud, and she felt as though the weight of the entire mansion had settled onto her shoulders.

The halls were eerily quiet, the polished floors reflecting the dim glow of sconces lining the walls. The man led her through the winding corridors, his silence unnerving. Finally, they reached a set of double doors at the far end of the west wing. He pushed them open, revealing a grand room filled with plush furniture, heavy drapes, and a four-poster bed that looked far too luxurious for someone in her current predicament.

"This will be your room," the man said, stepping aside to let her enter. "If you need anything, there's a button on the nightstand. Someone will come immediately."

Bella nodded, though her throat felt tight. The man lingered for a moment before giving her a short nod and leaving, the doors closing behind him with a soft click.

She stood there for a moment, staring at the bed, at the extravagant decor. It felt wrong, all of it. Like she didn't belong here. And maybe she didn't.

Her eyes wandered around the room, catching on the small things-a silver-framed photo on the nightstand, a crystal vase filled with white roses on the table near the window. The luxury was stifling, a reminder that she was now part of a world where wealth and power dictated every move.

With a deep breath, Bella walked over to the window and pulled back the heavy drapes, looking out into the night. The estate was vast, the perfectly manicured lawns stretching out as far as she could see. Beyond the gates, the city lights glittered in the distance, a world away from the cold prison she had just entered.

She pressed her forehead against the cool glass, her fingers tightening on the fabric of the drapes. How had her life spiraled so far out of control? Just days ago, she had been living quietly under her uncle's roof, dreaming of a life of her own. Now, she was trapped in a marriage she never wanted, tied to a man whose motives she couldn't begin to understand.

But one thing was clear: Dante Romano was not a man to be underestimated. He might have taken her as his bride, but she wasn't naïve enough to think that made her safe.

With a sigh, Bella turned away from the window and crossed the room to the bed, collapsing onto the soft mattress. The exhaustion of the day finally caught up with her, and for the first time in hours, she allowed herself to relax. But even as her body gave in to the fatigue, her mind raced, filled with unanswered questions and the heavy weight of uncertainty.

She knew one thing for sure: her life would never be the same again.