Maya blinked. "So you're telling me that you agreed to marry a dark, mysterious, hoodie-wearing stranger?"
I stared at my hands. "I didn't have a choice."
Her expression softened. "Sel-"
"My dad's all I have, Maya. I have to get him out. Even if that means marrying a man I know nothing about."
"But what if he's a creep? What if he has, like, a dungeon and weird murder hobbies? He could be a serial killer."
I managed a weak laugh. "I'm pretty sure he's had enough chances to kill me already."
"But why you? What's in it for him?"
"I asked. He said it's not my concern."
"That's definitely concerning," she muttered, brushing back her ginger hair. "What if he's secretly ancient and wants to use your womb for-"
"Maya."
"What?" She held up her hands. "I've watched documentaries. That stuff happens."
I gave her a look, then lowered my voice. "I just care about saving my father. And getting justice. Or revenge. Whatever you want to call it."
Her face turned serious again. "The Devereuxs."
The name burned like acid.
I nodded slowly. "They're going to pay, eventually, when I find them. They're never in the spotlight much. I'd have to hire an investigator first."
Maya reached across the counter and squeezed my hand. "Just promise me one thing."
"What?"
"That you'll tell me everything. If he turns out to be a psycho, I'm calling the cops and a priest."
"Deal."
We both laughed, though mine was thin and a bit forced.
Deep down, I was scared. It felt like everything was moving too fast, and I didn't know what to expect next.
About halfway through my shift, I noticed a man in a suit entering the bar. His eyes scanned the room like he was looking for someone.
Then they locked on me. He walked straight to the bar.
"Selena Blake?"
I paused. "Yeah?"
Your husband sent me. I've been instructed to escort you to your new residence."
The word husband hit me like a punch.
"Wait, now?"
"Yes. Immediately."
I blinked. "I... I still have a shift to finish. And my stuff-"
"It will be moved. Your place has already been cleared."
I stared at him. "I haven't even told my landlord-"
"It's been handled."
"Okay, what?" I looked around in a panic. "I haven't even said goodbye to-"
Maya was already hurrying over, wide-eyed. "Is this the mystery man's minion?"
"Apparently."
He turned to her. "You must be Maya. I was told to assure you that your friend will be safe."
Maya raised a brow. "Is that supposed to comfort me? Because it doesn't."
"Duly noted."
Before I could argue, he was already escorting me out. Maya stopped me.
"Selena, are you sure? You don't have to do this."
No, I wasn't sure.
But my father's face flashed in my mind. The exhaustion, the pain, the cuffs. He'd suffered enough.
"I have to," I whispered.
She nodded, eyes shining. "Then be careful. And don't forget to text me. Constantly. First sigh of trouble and I'm calling the cavalry."
I squeezed her hand reassuringly. Then I followed the man into a sleek black car with tinted windows.
The drive was long and silent. We pulled into a gated estate somewhere into the hills. When the gates opened, I felt like I was entering another world.
The mansion was massive. The architecture was a work of art. Modern glass windows, black and gray stoned walls, and metal doors that looked like they could withstand a bomb. It didn't just scream wealth. It was power.
My stomach turned.
The door opened before we even reached it.
And there he was.
Hoodie. Shadowed face. Same aura of command.
"Welcome home," he said.
I stepped inside, air clogged in my throat.
"This is yours?" I asked quietly, admiring.
"Technically," he said. "But for the next year, it's yours too."
"Right," I muttered. "Wife perks."
He didn't smile. Just gestured toward a hallway.
"Come. We have rules to go over."
I followed him down a corridor into a large study. He gestured to a chair. I sat.
He remained standing. I immediately felt like a child about to receive a lecture.
"If you want to see your father again and if you want my support to continue, you'll follow my rules."
I braced myself.
"One. You will not ask questions about my business or connections."
"Figured."
"Two. You will attend functions with me when required and play the role of my wife. Convincingly."
I swallowed. "How convincingly?"
He met my eyes. "We'll get to that."
"Three. You will not attempt to discover my identity. When the time comes, I'll reveal it."
My heart stuttered. "So you are hiding something."
He ignored that.
"Four. You are not allowed to leave the premises without my permission. And no contact with the media."
I frowned. "You think I'd leak this?"
"I think desperation makes people reckless."
My fists clenched. "I'm not reckless."
He stepped closer. I could feel the chill coming off him again, like his skin beneath those clothes was made of ice.
"Then prove it."
We stared at each other, air tangled between us.
He broke the moment by handing me a silver phone. "Use this now. Your old number has been disconnected."
"You're tracking me."
"Of course."
I stood abruptly. "You really are the devil."
He tilted his head. "You signed the deal, Selena. Now you live with it."
"I at least deserve to know your name." I whispered, looking up into his shadowed face.
He hesitated as if deciding whether or not to answer. Then,
"Dante."
And with that, I became Dante's prisoner.