BELLA'S POV
The car ride back was silent.
Dante stared out the window, his jaw tight. His hands clenched into fists. Something was very, very wrong.
That man at the party—Viktor. The way he'd looked at me. Like I was prey.
And Dante's reaction. Pure rage.
"Who was he?" I whispered.
"Nobody you need to worry about." But his voice said different. "When we get home, you go straight to your room. Lock the door. Don't open it for anyone but me."
"Dante, you're scaring me—"
"Good. You should be scared." He finally looked at me. His eyes were dark. Dangerous. "This is what I tried to tell you. My world eats people like you. And I just fed you to the wolves."
My stomach twisted. "What does that mean?"
"It means Viktor Kozlov knows you exist. Which means you're in danger. Which means everything just got a lot more complicated."
The car pulled through the mansion gates. They slammed shut behind us like prison bars.
Tommy met us at the door. His face was grim.
"Boss, we need to talk. Now."
"I know. Give me five minutes." Dante turned to me. "Go. Your room. Now."
I hurried inside and up the stairs. My hands shook as I unlocked my door.
Behind me, I heard voices. Angry. Urgent.
Then Dante shouted something in Italian. A crash. Like glass breaking.
I slammed my door and locked it.
Leaned against it, breathing hard.
What had I gotten myself into?
---
I couldn't just stand there.
My room suddenly felt enormous. Empty. Like a fancy cage.
I walked to the window. Outside, the grounds stretched forever. Trees. Gardens. Walls.
Always walls.
I turned away and saw the closet. Might as well see what kind of clothes a monster buys for his prisoner.
I opened the doors and gasped.
Rows and rows of dresses. Pants. Shirts. Shoes lined up perfectly. Jewelry in velvet boxes.
Everything looked expensive. Everything looked new.
I pulled out a dress. Blue. Soft fabric. My exact size.
How?
I checked another. Perfect fit. And another. All of them.
He'd measured me somehow. Researched my size. Planned this before I even signed the contract.
Like he knew I'd say yes.
My chest felt tight. I stumbled back from the closet and bumped into the nightstand.
Something fell.
A photo frame.
I picked it up and my breath caught.
Me and Mom. My high school graduation. She was smiling so big. I looked happy. Young. Like life hadn't crushed me yet.
This photo lived on my dresser at home. In my tiny apartment.
How did it get here?
Then I understood.
Dante had been in my apartment. Before I even met him. Before the alley. Before everything.
He'd planned this.
All of it.
My legs gave out. I sat on the floor, holding the photo with shaking hands.
"He knew," I whispered to no one. "He already chose me."
But why? Why me?
I was nobody. Just a tired waitress with nothing special about me.
Except.
Except I witnessed a murder. Except I was desperate. Except I had no choice but to say yes.
He'd made sure of that.
The debt. The timing. The impossible situation.
Had he orchestrated everything?
No. That was crazy. Mom got sick three years ago. Long before I saw him in that alley.
Right?
But what if—
A knock on my door made me jump.
"Miss Romano?" A woman's voice. "I'm here to help you get ready for bed."
I stood slowly. "I can get ready myself."
"Mr. Salvatore sent me. He wants to make sure you're settling in properly."
I unlocked the door. A woman in her fifties stood there. Kind eyes. Gray hair pulled back.
"I'm Margaret. I help run the household." She came in carrying towels. "Mr. Salvatore mentioned you might need anything. I brought extra toiletries."
She set them in the bathroom. Returned with a gentle smile.
"Must be overwhelming. All this." She gestured around. "But you'll adjust. They all do."
My blood chilled. "They?"
"Oh." Margaret's smile faltered. "I just meant—people who come here. It's a big change."
"Has Dante brought other women here? To live?"
"That's not my place to say." But her eyes said yes. "You should rest. Big day tomorrow."
"What's tomorrow?"
"Training. Mr. Salvatore wants you prepared." She headed for the door. "Sleep well, dear. And remember—this door locks from the inside. You're safe here."
She left.
I locked the door again.
But I didn't feel safe.
I felt like a butterfly pinned to a board. Pretty. Trapped. Studied.
---
I couldn't sleep.
The bed was too soft. The room too quiet. Everything too perfect.
At midnight, I heard footsteps in the hallway. Stopping outside my door.
I held my breath.
A shadow moved in the crack under the door. Someone was standing there.
Watching? Listening?
"Isabella." Dante's voice. Soft. "Are you awake?"
I didn't answer.
"I know you are. Your light's still on."
I stayed silent.
A pause. Then, "I'm sorry. For tonight. For Viktor. For everything." His voice sounded different. Tired. Almost human. "This wasn't supposed to happen so fast. You weren't supposed to become visible yet."
What did that mean?
"Sleep, little bird. Tomorrow we start your real training. You'll need your strength."
His footsteps walked away.
I waited ten minutes. Then crept to the door and pressed my ear against it.
Silence.
I unlocked it slowly. Peeked into the hallway.
Empty.
But on the floor outside my door sat a glass of water and two pills in a small cup. A note beside them.
*For sleeping. Not poison. I promise. —D*
I stared at the pills.
Did I trust him? Could I trust him?
No. But I also hadn't slept in days. And tomorrow I needed to be sharp.
I took the pills inside. Studied them. They looked like regular sleeping pills.
I swallowed them with the water.
Within minutes, drowsiness pulled at me. I barely made it to bed before my eyes closed.
---
I dreamed of the alley.
But this time, when Dante turned and looked at me, he smiled.
"I've been waiting for you, Isabella. You're exactly what I need."
"For what?"
"To destroy me."
I woke with a gasp.
Sunlight streamed through the windows. Morning already?
How long had I slept?
I checked my phone. Ten AM. I'd slept twelve hours straight.
Those pills had knocked me out cold.
A tray sat on my nightstand. Breakfast. Fresh fruit. Pastries. Coffee.
When had someone brought that in?
My door was still locked from the inside.
Impossible.
Unless.
I ran to the door and checked the lock. Regular deadbolt. Nothing special.
But when I looked closer, I saw it. A tiny camera above the door frame. Barely visible.
He was watching me.
My stomach turned. I looked around the room with new eyes.
There. Another camera. Hidden in the air vent.
And there. In the smoke detector.
How many were there?
I grabbed a chair and climbed up to cover the one above my door with a pillowcase.
"I wouldn't do that." Dante's voice came from—where?
An intercom. Hidden somewhere.
"Take it down, Isabella."
"You're spying on me!"
"I'm protecting you. There's a difference."
"Where are the cameras? How many?"
"Enough. And they stay. For your safety."
"My safety or your control?"
Silence. Then, "Both. Now eat your breakfast and get dressed. Training starts in an hour. Someone will come get you."
"What if I refuse?"
"Then your mother's treatment gets delayed a week. Your choice."
I wanted to scream. Throw something. Break everything in this perfect prison.
Instead, I climbed down and removed the pillowcase.
Because he was right.
I had no choice.
I never had a choice.
---
Exactly one hour later, someone knocked.
I opened the door. A man stood there. Young. Muscular. Covered in tattoos.
"Miss Romano. I'm Marco." He saw my face. "No, not that Marco. Different guy. I'm here to teach you self-defense."
"Dante wants me to learn to fight?"
"He wants you to learn not to die." Marco gestured down the hallway. "Follow me. Gym's downstairs."
I followed him through the mansion. Past more rooms I'd never seen. Down stairs I didn't know existed.
We reached a basement level. Concrete floors. Punching bags. Weapons on the walls.
Lots of weapons.
"This is insane," I breathed.
"This is necessary." Dante stepped out of the shadows. He'd changed clothes. Now wore simple black pants and a t-shirt. "In my world, everyone's a potential threat. You need to know how to protect yourself."
"I thought you were protecting me."
"I am. But I can't be everywhere at once." He moved closer. "Viktor saw you last night. Which means his people are watching you now. If they ever get you alone—"
"They won't. Because I'm not leaving this house without you."
"Smart. But not realistic." He nodded to Marco. "Show her."
Marco grabbed me from behind. Fast. Strong. His arm around my throat.
I panicked. Couldn't breathe. Clawed at his arm—
"Stop." Dante pulled Marco off me. "You froze. That's how you die."
I bent over, gasping. "You could've warned me—"
"Attackers don't warn you. They strike." He pulled me upright. "Again. This time, fight back."
We practiced for two hours. Marco grabbed me. I tried to escape. Failed. Over and over.
My body ached. Sweat soaked through my clothes.
"Enough," Dante finally said. "Rest. We continue tomorrow."
Marco left.
I collapsed on a bench. "I can't do this."
"Yes, you can." Dante sat beside me. Handed me water. "You're stronger than you think."
"I'm a waitress, not a spy. Not a fighter. I don't belong here."
"You belong exactly where I say you belong." But his voice was softer now. "I know this is hard. I know you're scared. But you're going to survive this, Isabella. I'll make sure of it."
"Why?" I looked at him. Really looked at him. "Why do you care if I survive? I'm just a tool to you."
Something flickered in his eyes. Something almost like pain.
"Because—"
His phone rang. He answered it immediately.
"What?" His face went dark. "When?... How many?... Secure all exits. Now."
He hung up and grabbed my arm. "We need to move. Now."
"What's happening?"
"Viktor's men. They're here."
"Here? At the mansion?"
"Breaking through the gates right now." He pulled me toward the stairs. "Get to your room. Lock yourself in. Don't open the door for anyone but me."
We ran up the stairs. Behind us, I heard shouting. Gunshots.
Oh God. Oh God.
We burst into the hallway. Dante pushed me toward my room—
The window at the end of the hall exploded.
Glass everywhere.
A man crashed through. Rolled. Came up with a gun pointed at us.
At me.
Dante shoved me behind him. "Run!"
I ran.
But before I reached my door, someone grabbed me from behind.
Another man. Where had he come from?
"Got her!" he shouted in Russian.
Dante spun around. His face—I'd never seen him look like that.
Pure rage. Pure fear.
"Let her go." His voice was deadly calm. "Let her go or I'll burn your entire family to the ground."
The man laughed. Pressed a knife to my throat. "Come with us, or she dies."
Dante's eyes met mine.
I saw him making a choice. A terrible choice.
"Don't," I whispered. "Don't do it—"
He dropped his gun.
Raised his hands.
"Take me. Let her go. Trade."
"No trade." The man's grip tightened. "Viktor wants you both."
More men poured into the hallway. Six. Eight. Too many.
We were surrounded.
The man holding me smiled. "Welcome to war, Salvatore. You should've stayed away from the girl. Now you both pay."
Everything went black.