My fingers grip the stupid rulebook, and for a second, I consider ripping it apart to tiny little pieces. But that's exactly what Dante would expect me to do, isn't it? Throw a tantrum. Break something around the room. Give him another reason to smirk that smug, infuriating smirk of his and scold me.
Nope, not happening.
I force myself to take a deep breath and to think logically. I need to be smarter than him. The contract is signed, and there's no undoing that. But nowhere in that paper did it say say I have to stay put like an obedient pet. Right?
I open the rulebook again, rereading the rules. Rule number three: You are to remain within the estate grounds unless accompanied by me or someone I authorize. Should you attempt to leave without permission, you will be escorted back, whether conscious or not.
My lips curve into a bitter smile. Of course. I'm a prisoner with a fancy title.
Before I can even sit down, there's a knock at the door. I roll my eyes so hard they might get stuck in my skull.
"What?" I snap, as I turn my head sharply over my shoulder.
The door opens, and a middle-aged woman in a crisp uniform steps inside, her expression is blank and neutral. Her hands are folded primly before her, and not a single dark hair escapes her tight bun.
"The Don has instructed me to prepare you for tonight's gala," she says calmly, like she's talking about setting up a dinner table.
I blink. "The what?"
"The Bravura Gala. A high-profile event attended by politicians, businessmen, and individuals of great influence. As the Don's wife, you are expected to accompany him."
The word wife makes me want to throw up.
I cross my arms. "Mhm hmm. Yeah, no thanks. Tell your boss I'm not interested."
Her face doesn't even twitch. "I'm afraid it is not a matter of interest, signora."
Of course it isn't. Nothing ever is.
The maid steps further into the room, analyzing me from head to toe with the eye of someone who's dressed many unwilling women before me. "Your grooming will begin shortly. There will be a dress fitting, makeup, hair-"
I hold up a hand and she quits talking. I am unwilling to hear more about something I can't even refuse to participate in. It's better I leave it till I am forced to do it at this point.
She nods once, and then walks out without another word, closing the door behind her.
I exhale slowly, pressing my fingers against my temples where a headache is beginning to form. I can feel the pressure building behind my eyes, tears I am unwilling to shed. I don't even want all this luxury or maids or whatever, I honestly just want to go home.
But for now I'm forced to be strong and deal with the problem at hand.
I have to go to a gala. There will be a room full of people who belong to Dante's world and network. Politicians. Businessmen. Influential figures. Maybe fellow mafioso. People he'll be too busy talking to all night.
My pulse kicks up. The cogwheels in my brain begin turning.
Dante gave me a key to this room, but realistically speaking it's like a slap in the face because this entire house is my prison. The entire place us crawling with guards and button men, the maids are probably watching my every move, and Dante might even be crazy enough to hide cameras in the corners of the ceiling of my room. So which means I'm never alone and watched like a hawk 24/7.
I walk to the balcony, looking out at the grounds of the Valenti estate. The gardens stretch out a long distance, ending at a high stone wall topped with what I'm sure is barbed wire disguised by ivy. Beyond that wall lies my freedom. My family, my future, the life I've worked so hard to build.
I walk into the bathroom and take off my clothes, stepping under the warm water. Water flows down my body as I mentally map out the Valenti mansion from what little I've seen. The main entrance is heavily guarded. The back entrance through the kitchen has staff coming and going at all hours. The garage would be locked, and I doubt I could steal one of Dante's luxury cars without getting caught. Or at least tracked down almost immediately.
But the gala is different. It won't be held here at the estate. They'll have to take me somewhere else, somewhere public. Out of these walls.
I shut off the water and wrap a towel around myself.
This gala could be my chance. If I find the right timing, and the right moment, I could slip away without any of his men noticing. Blend into the crowd while he's busy, my way to the exit, and disappear into the night. I could flag down a taxi, head straight to the airport, use the emergency credit card Mama insisted I always keep hidden in my wallet. Book myself a quick flight to anywhere else but here and stay in hiding till Dante gives up trying to find me.
I bite my lip, considering the consequences. If I run and he catches me, what then? What punishment would await me? What about my family?
And what about the contract?
I read the fine print carefully before signing it. I don't officially become Dante's wife till our wedding ceremony-which at the thought of it makes me want to pull out my hair-and till then I think there's a loophole for me to escape. The engagement period gives him control over me in name only, not by law. If I can escape before the wedding, I might have a chance at freedom.