The ride back to the De Luca estate was suffocatingly silent. Dante sat across from Isabella in the back of the black SUV, his jaw tight, his dark eyes fixed on her like a predator assessing its prey. The tension between them was thick, electric, as the car glided through the streets of Manhattan.
Isabella refused to look at him, staring out the window as if she were unbothered by his presence. But she could feel his gaze burning into her, heavy with unspoken anger.
"Do you care to explain what you were doing meeting Luca Romano?" Dante's voice finally broke the silence. It was calm, but the underlying edge of menace made Isabella's pulse quicken.
She turned to face him, her chin lifted defiantly. "I was having a conversation."
"A conversation?" Dante echoed, his lips curling into a cold smile. "With a man known for selling information to my enemies?"
"Perhaps you should question why someone like Luca has information worth selling," Isabella shot back, her voice sharper than she intended. "If your empire were as impenetrable as you claim, people like him wouldn't even exist."
Dante leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, closing the space between them. "Careful, Isabella," he said softly, though his tone was laced with danger. "You're walking a very fine line."
Isabella's heart pounded, but she refused to back down. "You wanted a strong wife, didn't you? Or did you mean you wanted a puppet who would sit quietly while you pulled the strings?"
For a moment, Dante said nothing, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. Then he leaned back, his smirk returning. "You're bold, I'll give you that. But don't mistake boldness for power. You might think you're playing a game with me, but you're out of your depth, Isabella."
"And yet, here we are," Isabella said, her voice steady despite the knot tightening in her stomach.
Dante's smirk faded, his expression hardening. "You don't understand what you're dealing with. This isn't a game for you to win. This is survival, and you're dangerously close to losing."
The SUV pulled into the De Luca estate, the tires crunching over the gravel driveway. As soon as the car stopped, Dante opened the door and stepped out, his movements swift and controlled. Isabella followed, her heels clicking against the stone as she trailed behind him into the house.
The moment the heavy wooden doors of the estate closed behind them, Dante turned on her, his composure cracking just enough to reveal the fury simmering beneath the surface.
"What were you thinking?" he demanded, his voice low but seething. "Do you have any idea what you've just done? Meeting with Luca Romano in public—what kind of message do you think that sends?"
Isabella crossed her arms, her defiance unwavering. "It sends the message that I'm not afraid of you."
Dante took a step closer, towering over her, his presence suffocating. "You should be."
The words sent a chill down her spine, but she refused to let him see her fear. "If you think you can intimidate me into submission, you're wasting your time. I'm not one of your men, and I'm not going to be one of your victims."
For a moment, Dante's expression softened, something like amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "You think I'd hurt you?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost curious.
"I think you'd do whatever it takes to win," Isabella replied.
Dante nodded slowly, as if conceding the point. "You're not wrong. But don't confuse my methods with recklessness. Everything I do has a purpose, Isabella. And everything you do has consequences."
He stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You want to challenge me? Fine. But know this—you'll lose every time. Not because you're weak, but because you don't understand the game you've just entered. I've spent my entire life in the shadows, building an empire out of blood and fear. You're new to this world, and it will swallow you whole if you're not careful."
Isabella's breath caught in her throat, but she refused to back down. "Maybe I'm new, but I learn quickly. Don't underestimate me, Dante."
Dante stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to her surprise, he laughed—a low, dark sound that sent shivers down her spine.
"You're going to make this marriage interesting," he said, his smirk returning. "But don't push me too far, Isabella. I have limits, and so do you."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing in the grand foyer, her heart racing and her mind spinning.
Isabella clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She had stood her ground, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was teetering on the edge of a cliff. Dante was dangerous, more dangerous than she had anticipated. But she refused to let him break her.
If this was a battle of wills, she would fight with everything she had. And maybe, just maybe, she'd find a way to tip the scales in her favor.