The night wore on, and Amelia lay in the unfamiliar bed, the weight of the silk sheets pressing down on her like a suffocating blanket. She hadn't expected the first night of her marriage to feel so… empty. The wedding had been a blur of faces, formalities, and unspoken promises. But now, in the silence of the bridal suite, the reality of her situation settled over her with crushing force.
Dante had been civil, but there was something about the way he looked at her—something cold and calculating—that made her feel small, insignificant. She could hear his footsteps pacing in the adjoining room, his silhouette visible through the frosted glass.
Her heart raced in her chest, her body taut with tension. She knew he wasn't far away. She could feel his presence, like a shadow hovering at the edge of her thoughts. It was only a matter of time before he made his move.
*******
A Knock at the Door
The knock at the door startled her. She quickly wiped away the tear that had slipped down her cheek, feeling foolish for even shedding one. She had no right to cry. Her family had put her in this position, and now she had to deal with the consequences.
"Come in," she called, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound calm.
The door opened slowly, and Dante stepped inside, his figure towering in the doorway. The dim lighting from the hallway cast shadows across his face, making his features even more striking, yet colder. His eyes scanned the room, settling on her with that same, piercing gaze that made her feel both seen and invisible at the same time.
"You're still awake," he observed, his voice low and smooth, almost amused. "You should get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day."
Amelia didn't respond, her throat tight. She couldn't look at him. She could feel his eyes on her, burning through her.
Dante took a step forward, closing the distance between them, and for a moment, Amelia thought she might suffocate from the tension. He didn't touch her, but his presence seemed to fill every inch of the room.
"You should know," he said, his voice dropping even lower, "this arrangement isn't just about your family's debts."
Amelia's heart skipped a beat. What does he mean by that?
She lifted her gaze slowly, and the cold smirk on his face made her stomach twist. "You're here because I want you, Amelia. I don't need a wife, but I want you."
The words hung in the air, thick with meaning. Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt a chill creep up her spine. His tone was so casual, but the implications were anything but.
"You're mine now," he continued, his voice laced with a dangerous promise. "And I don't share what's mine."
Amelia's pulse quickened, and for a moment, she couldn't speak. Her mind raced with conflicting emotions. Fear. Anger. Confusion.
"Is this… what you want?" she managed to ask, her voice barely a whisper. "To control me?"
Dante's eyes flickered with something unreadable before he took another step closer. "Control is a part of it. But I don't need to control everything, Amelia." He reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek, a feather-light touch that made her flinch. "I want you to want to be mine."
His words, soft and seductive, sent a shiver down her spine. She pulled back instinctively, but there was nowhere to go. She was trapped in his world now, and no matter how much she resisted, she couldn't escape the chains he had wrapped around her.
"You think you can make me want you?" she asked, trying to sound braver than she felt.
Dante's smile was slow and wicked, like a predator toying with its prey. "Oh, Amelia, you have no idea what I'm capable of. But you'll learn soon enough."
**************
The Next Morning
The sun had barely risen, casting a faint glow through the curtains of the suite. Amelia woke to the sound of Dante moving around the room, preparing for the day. Her body felt stiff from the sleepless night, her mind still reeling from their conversation.
Dante glanced over at her as she sat up, his eyes flicking to her with a mixture of amusement and something darker. "I trust you slept well?" he asked, though his tone made it clear he didn't care either way.
Amelia didn't respond. She didn't trust herself to speak without betraying the storm of emotions raging inside her.
"You'll get used to this life," Dante continued, as though reading her silence. "But first, we have to make a few appearances. My business associates expect us to be present. And I expect you to play the part of my wife."
He didn't wait for her answer, moving toward the door.
"Get dressed. We leave in an hour."
*******
The Day Unfolds
The day passed in a blur of social gatherings, all of them suffocating in their opulence. Dante led her from one meeting to the next, his hand never far from her waist, his presence looming over her every moment.
Amelia felt like a puppet on a string, her every move dictated by the cold man at her side. He introduced her to his associates with a mix of pride and ownership, his hand possessively resting on her back, making it clear that she belonged to him.
By the time they returned to the mansion, Amelia was exhausted, mentally and emotionally drained. But the night wasn't over.
*******
Back at the Mansion
As the door to their suite closed behind them, Dante turned to her, his eyes cold and calculating. "That wasn't so difficult, was it?"
Amelia didn't answer. She couldn't. Her chest felt tight, her mind spinning.
"I warned you," Dante continued, his voice soft but laced with an edge of threat. "This isn't just about appearances. This is my world. And now, you're part of it. So don't forget who holds the power here."
His words rang in her ears, each one a reminder of how powerless she truly was.
She looked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest. "What do you want from me, Dante?
He studied her for a long moment, his gaze unwavering. "Everything, Amelia. Eventually, you'll give me everything."
And with that, he left the room, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving her alone with her fear, her confusion, and the inevitable future she was forced to endure.