“Yes.”The word came out barely above a whisper.
“Yes, what?”
I wanted to spit in his face.Wanted to knee him hard enough to make him regret every word of our contract.Wanted to run back to Papa and beg him to let me marry Marco instead because at least with Marco I’d known what kind of monster I was dealing with.
But my body was still responding to Dante’s touch, still heating under his grip, still aching for something I absolutely refused to name.
“Yes, I understand,” I forced out.
He held me there for three more heartbeats -- long enough that I felt the trembling start in my legs, long enough that shame joined the heat in my belly -- then released me and stepped back.
“Good.”He gestured to the security staff, who’d been standing frozen throughout the entire exchange.“Continue unpacking.Mrs.De Luca will retire to the sitting room while you work.”
I bent to gather my scattered jewelry with hands that were absolutely not shaking, refusing to look at any of them.The diamonds caught the light as I dropped them back in the box, each piece representing a moment from my old life.My old cage.
Dante’s hand appeared in my line of vision, offering to help me stand.I ignored it and pushed myself up, carrying the jewelry box to the dresser where I set it down with care.
“I’ll be in my office,” Dante said to no one in particular.“Let me know when you’ve finished.”
His footsteps retreated down the hallway, leaving me alone with three men who’d just watched my husband establish dominance like I was a dog being trained.
I moved to the sitting area and lowered myself onto the chaise, my legs finally giving in to the shaking I’d been fighting.Through the window, the city sprawled below -- so far away it looked unreal.Forty-three floors up.Locked elevator.Controlled access.
I’d walked into this cage willingly.Had negotiated the terms of my own imprisonment.And the worst part, the part that made bile rise in my throat, was how my body had responded to Dante’s control.
The heat was still there, pooled between my legs, making me achingly aware of sensations I desperately wanted to ignore.
I’d made a deal with the devil.Now I had to live with the consequences.
* * *
I woke the next morning to someone else’s choice of clothing draped across the chair in my sitting area -- a cream silk blouse and navy trousers that screamed dutiful wife.The morning light cut through the floor-to-ceiling windows at an angle that suggested early, too early for anyone sane to be awake.But someone had been in my room while I slept, laying out clothes like I was a doll to be dressed.
Fuck that.
I threw off the covers and moved to the closet, ignoring the conservative outfit waiting for me.The clothes I’d chosen for myself had been donated, only leaving behind the ones my parents had purchased.Only a few had survived the purge.Probably because even his staff recognized that some designer items were too expensive to throw away, regardless of how provocative they were.
I found it in the back corner where someone had tried to hide it behind the approved navy and cream colors -- a red Versace dress I’d bought in Milan specifically because it had made the sales associate blush.The neckline plunged to my sternum, the hem hit mid-thigh, and the material clung like a second skin, showing every curve I had.
Perfect.
I laid it on the bed next to Dante’s conservative selection, the contrast almost comical.His choice was modest.Mine screamed fuck your rules.
The bathroom was still as obscenely luxurious as yesterday -- all marble and gold fixtures and a shower that could fit six people.I took my time, letting the hot water beat against muscles still tense from yesterday’s confrontation.Used the expensive products someone had stocked for me.Dried off with towels that were probably Egyptian cotton.
I did my makeup with more care than necessary.Dramatic eyes.Red lips that matched the dress.I let my hair down in waves instead of pinning it up.Every choice was deliberate.Every choice was mine.
When I finally slipped into the red dress, I felt something like power settle over me.This was who I’d been before -- before the wedding, before the arrangement, before I’d agreed to let a man control my wardrobe and my schedule and my fucking life.This was Caterina Lombardi in all her defiant, inappropriate glory.
Mrs.De Luca could fuck off.
I checked myself in the full-length mirror, turning slightly to appreciate how the dress showed just enough leg when I moved.How the neckline drew the eye exactly where I wanted it.How the color made my skin look like cream and my eyes look even greener.
Let Dante see what he was trying to control.Let him understand who I actually was.
I was considering whether to venture out to the kitchen when I heard footsteps in the hallway.
Dante.
