Amelia stood in the center of the spacious living room, her eyes drifting to the door that Dante had walked out of hours ago. She hadn't seen him since he left for his meeting, and despite the distance, she couldn't shake the feeling of him lingering in the air. The way he controlled every corner of her life, every decision, like a shadow that stretched too far.
But something had shifted in her while he was gone. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that it wasn't just her own anger and frustration she was grappling with—it was fear. Fear of what Dante could do if he ever fully understood how much power he had over her.
The more she tried to keep her thoughts at bay, the clearer they became.
There were cracks in Dante's armor.
---
Amelia's fingers brushed the cold glass of the window as she gazed outside, her mind racing. Dante had always been so sure of himself, so commanding, so... indestructible. Yet, she now saw him differently. The way his jaw clenched when he tried to hide his emotions, the faint hesitation in his voice when he spoke about things personal to him—he wasn't invincible.
She didn't know what changed, but the realization sent a shiver down her spine. Maybe, just maybe, Dante wasn't as untouchable as he seemed.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. She snapped back into the moment, almost startled by the sudden break in her own spiraling thoughts.
"Amelia," Eva's voice came through the door, "Are you alright in there?"
Amelia opened the door to find Eva standing there, concern written on her face. "I'm fine," she said, though her words felt empty. She wasn't fine—not at all.
"Dante's meeting won't last much longer," Eva said, her tone gentle but knowing. "He's probably just dealing with business."
Amelia shook her head slowly. "It's not just business, Eva. It's never just business with him." Her voice was quieter, a hidden depth she hadn't realized was there until now.
Eva stepped into the room, her eyes scanning Amelia's face carefully. "What do you mean, my lady?"
Amelia hesitated, struggling to find the right words. It wasn't just about the mafia life Dante led; it was about how he made her feel. The coldness, the control—he was holding her back in ways she couldn't put into words.
"He thinks he owns me," Amelia finally admitted. Her voice trembled, but the truth was clearer than ever. "He doesn't let me think for myself. He's always in charge."
Eva gave her a knowing look, nodding. "That's how Dante is. He takes charge of everything—of you, of the world around him. But…" She paused for a moment. "But he's not as in control as he seems, Amelia. Even Dante has weaknesses."
The words hung in the air, and for the first time, Amelia allowed herself to truly consider them.
---
Later that night, as the clock ticked closer to midnight, the front door finally opened. Dante stepped inside, his demeanor as stoic as ever. He was still the same man, the same immovable force—or so he thought.
Amelia had been waiting for him, not out of obligation but because something inside her urged her to confront him. To see if he truly had the power over her that he thought he did.
Dante barely glanced in her direction as he passed her, his eyes sharp and focused elsewhere. But then, he paused, turning to face her.
"Amelia." His voice was colder than it had been earlier. "I told you to stay inside."
A rush of emotion surged in her chest. It wasn't just anger—it was a mix of defiance and something more vulnerable that she hadn't expected to feel.
"You can't just tell me what to do anymore, Dante," she said, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "You don't own me."
His eyes narrowed, but there was something different in them—something that was almost… unsettled. He was used to making demands, not receiving resistance.
"I don't need your permission to do anything," he responded, his tone still authoritative but with an edge of doubt that Amelia had never noticed before.
Amelia met his gaze, no longer intimidated. Dante's armor had cracked.
She wasn't afraid anymore.
"You do," she said, her voice steady now. "You may have made me your wife, but that doesn't mean you control everything about me."
For a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them was charged, filled with unspoken tension. Then, with a flicker of something..... maybe regret or even confusion.... Dante finally spoke.
You think this is easy for me, Amelia? You think I enjoy this?" His voice was low, almost raw.
Amelia didn't answer right away. She could see it now—his own vulnerability, buried beneath layers of power. Dante wasn't as untouchable as he wanted her to believe.
"I think you enjoy being in control," she said softly. "But you're not controlling me."
****************************************
Dante's Business Tour
Dante's departure was swift, and with it, the oppressive silence of the house settled over Amelia once more. She had learned to live with his constant presence—his commanding voice, his sharp gaze—but now that he was gone, there was an eerie freedom she hadn't expected.
It had been three days since he left for his business tour. Dante Moretti—the man who controlled everything—was out of her reach. The tension in the house had loosened, but so had her own restraint.
Amelia found herself wandering the mansion, aimlessly moving from one room to the next, unable to settle. There were so many things she had been too afraid to do while Dante was around. Now, there was time—time to think, time to breathe, and most importantly, time to act.
---
As she walked through the hallway, her fingers grazing the cool banister, her thoughts drifted to the conversations with Eva. The older woman had spoken of Dante's weaknesses, of his human side. Amelia hadn't believed it at first. But now? She saw it. The cracks in his armor weren't just about his actions—they were in his motives, his desperation to control.
---
Amelia's Room
She stood before the large mirror in her bedroom, staring at her reflection. Who was she now? The woman in the glass had changed. She wasn't the same timid girl who had been forced into this marriage. She wasn't just someone standing in the shadow of Dante Moretti.
She was Amelia Grey, and she was not powerless.
---
The sudden chime of her phone startled her, pulling her from her thoughts. It was a message from Dante.
---
"Amelia,
I'm in Venice for the next few days. I need you to stay put and behave while I'm gone.
Dante."
---
A sigh escaped her lips as she read the message. Behave? Was he still under the illusion that he had control over her every move, even from miles away?
Her finger hovered over the screen. She considered replying, but something stopped her. Instead, she set her phone down with a decisive movement. No more passive waiting.
She had been bound by this contract—this forced marriage—for too long. It was time to make her own decisions.
The Garden
Later that day, Amelia found herself wandering the garden behind the mansion. The flowers were in full bloom, a stark contrast to the turmoil within her. She felt a strange sense of freedom in the vast, open space. Dante's absence made the air feel different, lighter. She could breathe, think, and feel without his watchful eyes.
As she sat on a stone bench, her thoughts drifted to her family—the ones who had been the cause of her debt. The reason she was here, in this gilded cage. Her father's mistakes had led her to this life, but they didn't define her.
It was the first time since her marriage that she allowed herself to consider her future without being bound to Dante's plan. What if she could leave? What if she could walk away from this life and build something of her own?
But the fear crept in. Could she really escape? Could she survive without the safety that Dante's world—his name—provided her?
Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Turning quickly, she saw Eva approaching.
"Amelia, you're out here again," Eva remarked gently. "You should rest, my lady. It's not safe to be out here alone, especially with the house so quiet."
Amelia gave her a soft smile. "I just needed some space. To think."
Eva nodded but didn't push. "I understand. But don't overwork yourself. You've been on edge since Dante left. His absence weighs heavily on you."
Amelia hesitated, staring at her hands. "I don't know anymore, Eva. I don't know if I can keep living like this." Her voice trembled, betraying the uncertainty she felt.
Eva's gaze softened. "You've always had choices, Amelia. But sometimes, we don't see them until it's too late."
---
Later That Night – A Surprise Visitor
That night, Amelia found herself unable to sleep. The house was quiet, the usual hum of activity absent without Dante's presence. She was left alone with her thoughts—and with that gnawing desire for something more.
She was halfway down the stairs when the doorbell rang. Her heart skipped a beat. Who could it be? Dante was miles away, and the staff knew not to disturb her at this hour.
Cautiously, Amelia approached the door, her hand hovering over the handle. When she opened it, she was met with a surprise: a tall man in a dark coat, his face familiar, though she couldn't place it immediately.
"Can I help you?" Amelia asked, trying to remain composed.
The man smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm looking for Mrs. Moretti. I have a message from Dante."
The mention of Dante's name made her pulse quicken. Another message? But the man's manner wasn't like the usual delivery service. He seemed… different.
"I'm Amelia," she said cautiously. "What's the message?"
The man stepped forward slightly, lowering his voice. "The boss is asking for an update. And he's… concerned about your well-being, Mrs. Moretti."
The mention of her well-being struck her. She had expected nothing more than cold orders from Dante, but this felt different. Concerned?
Before she could respond, the man handed her a small envelope and turned to leave. Amelia watched him disappear into the night, the cryptic message lingering in the air.