Chapter 3 Unraveling Threads

Ariana sat across from Dante, the weight of his words still heavy in her chest. She had agreed to his terms, reluctantly, but the feeling of being trapped in a game she didn't understand only grew stronger. The cold glass of water in her hand offered little comfort as the silence stretched between them.

The bar in the corner of the room seemed to mock her, its polished surface gleaming under the low lighting. Dante hadn't moved from his position at the bar, his eyes occasionally flicking to her, but mostly staying focused on the swirling liquid in his glass.

"You think you have a choice, don't you?" Dante's voice broke the silence, low and controlled, but there was something in it that made Ariana's skin prickle. "You think you can walk away from this with your life intact, that you can keep your hands clean."

"I never wanted this life," Ariana replied, her voice tight with frustration. "I'm not a part of your world, Dante. And I never will be."

Dante's lips curled into a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You already are," he said, his tone soft but unyielding. "The moment you walked into this room, you were a part of it. And there's no turning back now."

Her mind spun. She had no idea how deep the waters ran. She had been naïve to think she could navigate her way out of it. The Rossi family wasn't just a mafia organization; it was an empire-one that stretched its influence far beyond what she had ever known.

"I didn't know my father was involved with you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought he was done with it all. I thought he wanted to keep me out of it."

"And he tried," Dante said, his gaze now fixed firmly on her. "But when you play in the shadows for as long as he did, there's no getting out. Not unless you're willing to pay the price." He took a slow sip from his glass, his eyes never leaving hers. "And your father wasn't willing to pay it."

Ariana's breath caught in her throat. The finality in Dante's words stung, like a bitter truth she didn't want to face. The pieces were starting to come together, but they painted a picture she didn't want to see.

"So, what now?" she asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "I do what you want, and you leave my family alone?"

Dante's gaze shifted slightly, and for a moment, Ariana could almost swear she saw a flicker of something softer in his eyes. It was gone in an instant, replaced by the cold calculation that had been there all along.

"No," he said, setting his glass down with a quiet clink. "This is just the beginning. There's more at stake here than just your father's debts. We're talking about power, influence, and control. And if you're going to be a part of this, you need to understand that. This isn't just a transaction-it's a war."

Ariana felt the chill creep up her spine at his words. A war. It felt like everything was spiraling beyond her grasp. Her world, her carefully constructed life, was crumbling before her eyes. And all because of one decision.

"I'll help you with your money laundering," she said, her voice tight, "but don't ask me to become part of your world. I don't want it. I never will."

Dante's expression softened just a fraction, but there was a coldness in his smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You'll become a part of it whether you like it or not," he replied quietly. "Everyone has their price, Ariana. And you'll learn soon enough what yours is."

He moved closer, his presence looming over her as he placed a hand on the back of the chair she sat in. His fingers lingered for a moment, as if to test the space between them, before he pulled back.

"I'll be in touch," he said, his voice low and deliberate. "You'll have your instructions soon. And remember-every choice you make from here on out has consequences."

Ariana couldn't speak. The weight of his words settled heavily on her shoulders as he turned and walked toward the door. The faint click of his shoes on the marble floor echoed in the silence, each step a reminder that she was no longer in control of her fate.

---

Later that night, as she sat alone in her apartment, Ariana couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed darker than usual, as if something-someone-was lurking just out of sight.

She glanced at her phone, her fingers trembling as she tapped through a few messages. Lucas had texted her earlier to check in. He hadn't noticed anything strange, but Ariana wasn't so sure. Her father's ties to the Rossi family had always been a source of anxiety, but now, they were real, tangible, and much closer to home than she had ever anticipated.

The knock at the door came an hour later, sharp and insistent. Her heart skipped a beat as she stood, her breath catching in her throat. It was too soon for anything to be happening, wasn't it?

She moved cautiously toward the door, her hand hovering over the handle for a moment before she opened it.

Standing in the doorway was a man in a black suit, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. His presence exuded an air of danger, and she knew in an instant that he wasn't here for a friendly visit.

"Ms. Steele," he said, his voice deep and even. "I've been sent to deliver a message."

Ariana's stomach dropped. She wasn't sure if she was ready to hear what it was. But whatever it was, she knew she couldn't avoid it.

"Come in," she said quietly, stepping aside.