Chapter 2 A Bed Made of Secrets

The room was too quiet.

I stood at the center of Dante's master suite, heart pounding, eyes fixed on the king-sized bed draped in black silk. The scent of him lingered-woodsmoke, danger, power. The very essence of the man I'd just vowed to spend my life with.

My husband.

My enemy.

Behind me, the heavy door clicked shut. I didn't have to turn to know it was him. I felt his presence the way a storm signals its arrival-sudden, electric, undeniable.

"You didn't run," he said, his voice low, amused.

"I said I wouldn't," I replied without looking back.

"You also said you like danger." He moved closer. "You proved it tonight."

I turned slowly to face him. He was already undoing his cufflinks, one by one, like he was shedding armor. My stomach twisted. This was the moment I'd dreaded and planned for in equal measure. The consummation of a marriage built on lies.

Dante stepped closer until there was barely a breath of space between us.

"You've barely looked at me all evening," he murmured. "Why?"

Because every time I do, I see my father's blood on your hands.

"I'm tired," I said, brushing past him. "It's been a long day."

He caught my wrist, gently-but there was steel beneath the softness. "We're married now, Serena. You're mine. Don't act like a stranger."

His words cut through me. You're mine.

Not his. Not anyone's. I belonged to the fire of vengeance burning in my chest.

Still, I turned to him, eyes wide and innocent. "You're right. I'm sorry."

I stepped closer, placed my hand on his chest-right above his heart. I could feel it, steady and strong. The heart of a killer. The man who'd ruined my life... or so I thought.

Dante studied me like I was a puzzle he couldn't solve. "You're hiding something," he said softly.

"And what if I am?" I asked.

He didn't smile. Didn't move. Just watched me for a long beat, then leaned in, brushing his lips over my neck.

"Then I'll find it."

He didn't touch me that night-not in the way I expected.

After a silent dinner, Dante poured two glasses of whiskey and sat in the armchair across the room, legs crossed, watching me. Waiting.

I sat on the edge of the bed, the silk robe I'd changed into clinging to my skin.

"I thought..." I began.

"You thought I'd take you right away," he said. "Claim you like some beast in a fairytale."

His eyes glinted with something dark. "I don't force what doesn't want me."

I hated the way my pulse jumped at that. Hated the way his words made me feel seen-like he knew I was playing a role.

"You think I don't want you?" I whispered.

"I think you want something else more," he said.

I froze. Did he know? Had he found out already?

Dante stood and walked toward me, his shadow falling over mine. "You're not afraid of me. That makes you interesting. But it also makes you dangerous."

He bent low, his face inches from mine. "I like dangerous."

Then he walked away, disappearing into the bathroom, leaving me alone with the heat in my cheeks and the poison in my veins.

Sleep didn't come easily.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think of the man sleeping on the couch across the room. His choice-not mine. Was it a game? Or something else?

My mind replayed his words over and over.

You want something else more.

Damn him. He was too perceptive. Too calm. Like he'd already played this game before-and won.

I thought about my father then. About the night everything changed.

I was seventeen, curled on the living room floor, covered in his blood, his last breath still echoing in my ears. I never forgot the sound of the gunshot. Or the tattoo on the man's neck-the one I later traced back to Dante's organization.

That was the night I stopped being a girl. That was the night I began planning this moment.

And yet, lying here now, I couldn't help but wonder... What if I was wrong?

What if Dante hadn't pulled the trigger?

What if I'd built my revenge on a lie?

No. I couldn't afford doubts. Not now.

I sat up, walked quietly to the drawer in the closet, and retrieved the flash drive hidden inside my robe.

Phase one had started.

Tomorrow, I would begin accessing Dante's encrypted files. His empire was a maze of secrets-drug shipments, weapons deals, money laundering. I didn't just want to destroy him. I wanted to expose everything. To bring his empire to its knees.

I walked to the window and looked out over the city skyline, lights twinkling like stars trying to escape the dark.

Behind me, I heard a rustle of sheets.

"Couldn't sleep?" Dante's voice was husky, deep with exhaustion.

I turned. He was still on the couch, shirtless now, eyes half-lidded as he watched me from across the room.

"Neither could you," I said.

He didn't answer. Just looked at me like he could see every lie I'd ever told, every truth I was trying to bury.

"I'm not the monster you think I am," he said suddenly.

My breath caught.

"I never said you were."

"You don't have to." He sat up slowly. "Your eyes do."

I swallowed hard. "Why did you marry me, Dante?"

He tilted his head, eyes unreadable.

"Because there's something about you I can't figure out. And I don't like unsolved puzzles."