Chapter 3 Romano Brothers

Serena~

"Keep her out of my sight, Dante, until she learns manners and how to treat her masters respectfully!"

When I refused to yield, Dante's father erupted in anger. His words thundered through the room, and my heart sank further into despair. His voice carried a lethal authority that made my stomach twist, and I realized this command wasn't just punishment-it was a sentence.

"Dad, please don't let this slave ruin your day." Dante's voice, now dripping with sweetness, was a stark contrast to the cold cruelty he'd shown me. The sudden shift sent a wave of confusion through me. How could he change so easily? One moment, he was torturing me; the next, he wore charm like a mask, almost as if performing for his father's amusement.

"I'll teach her manners soon. She'll know how to treat you with dignity."

Dante's icy eyes flicked to me, and I shuddered as he leaned closer. His gaze was both a threat and a promise. His hand was like a vise around my arm as he pulled me harshly aside, his fingers digging into my skin.

"You understand now what happens when you insult me in front of my father." His words were a whisper, but they dripped with venom as he grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the far corner of the room.

I turned, hoping to find some mercy in his father's eyes, but there was nothing. His expression remained stone-cold, indifferent to the violence his son inflicted on me. This is now my life-caught in a family of monsters. Trapped like an animal. I was safe and isolated in my father's house just twelve hours ago. Though I received little love, I never knew such cruelty. Now, every moment was a waking nightmare.

"Lock her in the basement and let her starve until she learns respect," Dante commanded, his voice calm and collected, like he was making an ordinary request. There was a casual cruelty in his tone that made my blood run cold, as if my suffering was inconsequential, routine.

Starve me? My chest tightened with fear, but I swallowed it down. I wouldn't let them see my fear; I wouldn't let them break me, no matter what.

"Big brother, are you sure you want to keep her here?" A softer voice interrupted. I looked up to see a man standing nearby, his light green eyes filled with something that almost resembled... concern?

"Yes, Marco," Dante snapped, clearly annoyed.

"She stays here. And I trust none but you to watch her." His tone softened slightly as he glanced at Marco, his expression hardening again when he looked at me.

Marco. So, he's Dante's brother. Unlike Dante's sharp, cruel features, Marco had a face that carried empathy, though I wasn't sure how much of it was real. His green eyes lacked the brutal edge of Dante's blue ones, but I could still see his loyalty to his brother, a devotion that felt even more dangerous for how sincere it appeared.

"I'll take care of her," Marco finally said, though his voice lacked the malice I had grown used to. There was a hardness there, something practiced as if he were used to restraining his true emotions.

Could I trust him? Or was this just another act?

"Take her to the basement," Dante ordered, his expression cold. "Either she bows, or she dies. I don't care which."

As Dante's heavy footsteps retreated, Marco's grip on my arm remained firm but gentle. He guided me toward a dark stairwell, leading me down into a basement lit only by a faint nightlight.

The shadows clung to the walls, and a wave of dread fell over me. I had always been afraid of the dark, but I wouldn't show that weakness to him.

Marco tied me to a chair, his movements quick but not cruel. The ropes bit into my wrists, and my shoulders ached as he pulled them tight. I braced myself for more pain, but it didn't come.

"What's your name?" Marco asked, his voice gentle-so different from Dante's sharp commands. But something was calculating in his gaze, as if he was testing me, measuring my response.

I hesitated, unsure of his intentions. Was he trying to make me trust him? I refused to cry, even though my throat burned with the effort.

"Se..Sere...Serena Moretti."

"Do you want some water?" His voice was soft, as though he truly cared, but I couldn't trust him. Not after everything his brother had done. Kind words don't erase cruelty.

My throat was painfully dry, and I nodded. I hadn't had anything to drink since the poisonous juice Vittoria had forced down my throat earlier. The thought of my family's betrayal stirred another wave of anger in me.

Marco held a glass of water in front of me, the cool liquid inches from my lips. My body screamed for it, my thirst unbearable, but just as I leaned forward, he pulled it away.

"I'm sorry," Marco said, his voice filled with regret. "But I can't defy my brother. He told me not to let you eat or drink until you submit."

The small hope that had flared up inside me immediately died. Of course, I thought bitterly. I'm still just a pawn for them. I flicked my tongue over my dry lips, the ache in my throat growing.

"Why suffer like this, Serena?" Marco asked quietly. "You don't know my brother. He's ruthless. If he wants you to kneel, he will stop at nothing until you break."

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. More people? What now?

Three tall men entered the room. Dante's dangerous charm was in them, but their personalities diverged. One of them smirked at me, his dark eyes filled with playful malice. His lean frame and devil-may-care attitude reminded me of a cat toying with its prey.

"So, this is the gift Dante bought for Dad?" Amusement laced his voice as he surveyed me, his gaze lingering too long.

"What's so special in her?" Something was degrading in his tone as if he found the idea of me being valuable laughable.

"Luca," Marco snapped, his tone protective. "She is Don Moretti's daughter. Show some respect."

The second man-glared at me with cold disgust, his muscular arms crossed over his chest.

"Dante wasted ten million dollars on this useless thing? On her?"

Useless? The word stung, but I bit my lip, refusing to let them see how much their words hurt. Every degrading comment was like a slap, but I wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

The third man had remained silent until now. His wild, unpredictable eyes danced with mischief as he tilted his head, watching me like a predator.

"Do you have a fear of spiders, young lady? Or maybe... ghosts?"

His voice sent chills down my spine. There was something wrong with him, something even more dangerous than his brothers. He was... unhinged.

"Vito, shut up." His brothers shot him a warning look, but he just laughed and disappeared into the shadows.

"Don't worry," Marco said softly, his hand gently brushing over my hair. "There are no ghosts here. Just us." But his words held no comfort; they were a reminder that I was entirely at their mercy.

Before I could respond, Dante's voice thundered from the hallway, making my stomach twist in fear.

"Marco! Bring her to the hall. Father has an announcement to make."

An announcement? I stiffened, dread clawing at my insides.

What now?

Marco untied me, pulling me to my feet. His grip was no longer gentle, a reminder that any kindness was temporary, conditional. He led me back up the stairs, my legs shaking beneath me.

What does Dante's father have planned for me now? My heart raced, and I couldn't shake the feeling that whatever was coming next would be worse than anything I'd endured so far.