Chapter 8 A Game of Power

The door shut behind him, leaving Alina in the suffocating silence of the dining room.

Her hands were still curled into fists in her lap, her pulse hammering against her ribs. She had won-this time. But Dante wasn't the kind of man who let defiance slide.

He would strike back.

The only question was when.

She exhaled slowly, willing herself to stay calm. He wants you afraid. He wants control. Don't let him have it.

A soft knock at the door made her jolt.

Lucia stepped inside, her sharp brown eyes sweeping over the untouched plate of food before landing on Alina.

"You really don't make things easy for yourself, do you?"

Alina forced a smile, though it felt hollow. "What's the fun in that?"

Lucia sighed, shaking her head. "You think this is a game?"

Alina's fingers curled against the table. "No. But I won't act like a prisoner, either."

Lucia studied her for a long moment, something unreadable passing through her gaze. Then, without another word, she turned and left.

Alina sat there for another few minutes, her body rigid, her mind racing.

Then, she stood.

She had no intention of waiting around for Dante's next move.

She needed to understand him.

And to do that, she had to know the house-his world, his people, his weaknesses.

If she wanted to fight back, she needed information.

Later That Night

Alina waited until the mansion fell into silence.

She had spent the rest of the day locked in her room, no sign of Dante, no more threats.

But she wasn't naive enough to think he had forgotten about her defiance.

Her fingers hovered over the door handle, her pulse steady. Locked. Again.

She had expected that. But she had also expected Lucia to leave something behind-a tray, a book, something.

Instead, the only thing she had left was a key.

Alina had seen it, dangling from Lucia's belt when she had left earlier. It had been subtle, but Alina had always been observant. And when Lucia had turned away, Alina had done the only thing she could-taken it.

Now, she turned the key in the lock and clicked it open.

Her heart pounded.

She should have been terrified. Maybe a part of her was.

But mostly, she felt alive.

She cracked the door open, peering down the dimly lit hallway. No guards. No sounds.

She stepped out.

The mansion was massive, and without knowing its full layout, she had to be careful. She moved swiftly, keeping to the shadows, memorizing the twists and turns of the hallways.

She reached a grand staircase leading downstairs-toward Dante's world.

If she was going to understand him, she had to know what was below.

She took a deep breath and descended.

But the moment she reached the bottom-

A hand grabbed her wrist.

Alina gasped, twisting sharply, but the grip was firm, unyielding. She barely had time to register the heat, the scent of whiskey and power-

Before a familiar voice rumbled against her ear.

"I was wondering how long it would take before you tried something."

Her stomach dropped.

Dante.

His grip tightened, his presence suffocatingly close behind her.

Alina swallowed hard, lifting her chin. "Let me go."

Dante chuckled, a slow, dangerous sound. "Oh, wife," he murmured, his breath ghosting against her ear.

"You don't make the rules here. I do."