Chapter 4 Leandro-or Enzo Valente

The moment the words left her lips, Seraphina felt an invisible weight settle over her. She had done it. She had sealed her fate.

Across the table, Leandro-or Enzo Valente, as she knew him-watched her with the calm patience of a man who had already won. His gray eyes, weathered by time, held an unreadable depth, and for the first time, she wondered if she had just made a deal with a man far more dangerous than Riccardo Esposito.

But it didn't matter.

A life shackled to an unknown man was better than a life spent running from the monsters who lurked in the shadows of her city.

Leandro leaned back in his chair, his gnarled fingers tapping lazily against the wooden table. "You've made your choice, cara mia. There is no turning back now."

Seraphina swallowed hard, but she kept her chin high. "I never intended to turn back."

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Good."

The café felt smaller now, as if the walls had drawn closer, trapping her in a moment that could not be undone. Outside, the rain had eased into a gentle drizzle, the soft hum of water trickling down the streets. The world was moving on, oblivious to the fact that she had just rewritten the course of her life in a matter of minutes.

Leandro took one last sip of his coffee before setting the cup down with a quiet clink. "We'll marry tomorrow."

Seraphina stiffened. "Tomorrow?"

"Did you expect a grand courtship, tesoro?" he mused. "You came to me in desperation, asking for protection. That is what I am giving you. But I do not believe in delays."

Her fingers curled into the fabric of her dress. "Where?"

"The civil registry." He studied her reaction as if measuring her tolerance for this arrangement. "A simple ceremony. No fanfare."

That was fine with her. She didn't need anything elaborate-she just needed to belong to someone powerful enough to keep Esposito away.

Still, the speed of it made her stomach twist.

A stranger today. A husband tomorrow.

"Afterward," Leandro continued, his tone deceptively mild, "you will move into my home. My name alone will not be enough to deter men like Esposito. You must be seen as mine."

Seraphina exhaled sharply. "What does that mean?"

Leandro tilted his head slightly. "It means you will act the part, cara mia. You will sleep in my house. You will wear my ring. And when people look at you, they will know who you belong to."

His voice was soft, almost gentle, but there was an unspoken weight behind it-a warning, a promise.

Seraphina's pulse hammered in her throat. She should have asked more questions. She should have hesitated. But what other choice did she have?

She forced herself to nod. "I understand."

Leandro held her gaze for a moment longer before standing. The motion was smooth, effortless, belying the fragile exterior he had crafted. It was the first glimpse of the man beneath the disguise, and Seraphina wasn't sure if she had imagined it.

"I will handle the paperwork," he said. "Meet me tomorrow morning at the registry office. Eight o'clock."

She hesitated. "That's it? Just like that?"

Leandro's lips curved slightly, his expression unreadable. "Just like that."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Seraphina sitting at the table, staring at the remnants of his unfinished coffee, wondering if she had just made a deal with the devil himself.

---

The Next Morning

The civil registry office was cold and impersonal, a far cry from the romanticized weddings little girls dreamed of. There were no flowers, no music, no adoring guests. Just gray walls, paperwork, and a government official who barely glanced up as he prepared their marriage documents.

Seraphina stood stiffly beside Leandro, dressed in the simplest dress she owned-a white cotton piece that clung slightly to her damp skin. The morning rain had left the city drenched, and even now, the skies remained a dull, stormy gray.

Leandro, on the other hand, was a picture of composed indifference. He had arrived precisely on time, wearing a crisp dark suit that seemed almost too fine for an aging man of modest means. His silver hair was neatly combed back, his expression unreadable.

Even now, as they stood side by side, waiting for the official to complete their paperwork, Seraphina felt the weight of his presence.

"Sign here," the man behind the desk muttered, barely sparing them a glance.

Leandro took the pen first, signing his name with an elegant stroke before passing it to her.

Seraphina hesitated for only a second. Then, with a deep breath, she signed.

It was done.

The official stamped the papers, pushed them across the desk, and muttered, "Congratulations."

There was no warmth in his voice. No acknowledgment of the significance of this moment. To him, they were just another pair of strangers exchanging legal vows.

But to Seraphina, it was something else entirely.

She was no longer Seraphina Duarte.

She was now Seraphina Valente.

A wife in name. A possession in practice. A prisoner in every other sense of the word.

She turned to look at Leandro, but he was already moving, adjusting the cuff of his suit as he strode toward the door.

"Come, cara mia," he murmured. "It's time to go home."

Home.

The word sent a shiver down her spine.

She had no idea what kind of world she was walking into. But it was too late to turn back now.