I woke up to silence.
Not the good kind.
I twisted the doorknob once.
Then again.
It didn't budge.
My chest tightened.
I slammed my fist against the door. "Hello? Is anyone there? Open up!"
Footsteps shuffled on the other side.
"Boss said you're not allowed to leave the room until he returns."
I let out a sharp laugh. Was this some sort of joke?
"What exactly did I do wrong?" I snapped. "Why am I being locked up like a criminal? Is this room my prison now?"
No answer.
"Tell your boss I'm not staying in here all day," I shouted. "Open the door!"
I was met with silence.
My legs gave out. I slid down the door, digging my fingers into my hair as frustration crawled up my throat. The air in this room was way too suffocating.
The windows were sealed shut.
The walls were corlorless…lifeless.
This wasn't a room.
It looked more like a cage.
I paced.
Stopped.
Then paced again.
How long was I supposed to stay here? Hours? Days? Was Dante really insane enough to lock me up like this?
I didn't even have my phone.
I moved to pour myself a glass of water, desperate to calm the shaking in my hands—then something caught my eye.
A tiny black dot on the ceiling.
I frowned and took a step closer.
My breath hitched.
A camera?!
I let out a brittle scoff. "You've got to be kidding me."
So not only was I trapped…
I was being watched.
In my own damn room.
I spun back to the door, slamming my palm against it. "You're watching me, right?!" I yelled. "You can see this. You can see me losing my mind and you don't give a shit!"
No answer.
"What am I?" I shouted. "An experiment?!"
Silence.
I hit the door again. Harder. "I want to speak to Dante. Now. Where is he?!"
"I'm afraid I can't do that," the guard replied flatly. "Not until he returns."
That was it.
Reasoning was pointless. The windows were reinforced—metal beneath glass. Escape wasn't an option.
I needed to get the hell out of here.
My gaze drifted to the mirror.
An idea sparked.
A dangerous one.
I looked straight into the camera. "If I can't go to you," I said calmly, "then I'll bring you to me."
I grabbed a chair and without hesitation I hurled it across the mirror.
It exploded into tiny pieces.
Glass shattered everywhere.
A knock came instantly. "Ma'am? Is everything alright in there?"
I laughed softly.
Now you care?
My eyes lifted to the corner of the ceiling. The tiny black lens watching me. Watching everything.
Good.
I bent down and picked up a shard of glass. My fingers were trembling but my resolve didn't.
"This is what you wanted, right?" I murmured. "To see how far I'd go."
I pressed the glass to my skin.
I didn't hesitate.
Sharp pain came first then a bit of warmth. Blood spilled down my wrist, dripping onto the white carpet. I kept my eyes on the camera, refusing to look away.
I didn't want to die.
I was hoping he will get my message.
I didn't want to be his puppet.
The room tilted.
My vision blurred as my body hit the floor hard.
The impact knocking the air from my lungs. Blood pooled beneath me, spreading fast.
Footsteps thundered outside and then the door burst open…finally.
"Oh my God—"
"Call an ambulance. Now!"
Multiple hands grabbed me. I didn't know whom they belonged to.
Bunch of voices overlapped.
Everything blurred until darkness dragged me under, but one thought burned clear in my mind—
I will never die in Dante Castellano's hands.
Never.
꧁༺ ❦ ༻꧂
The steady beep of machines pulled me back.
My eyes fluttered open to see white ceilings and blinding lights. My head was throbbing badly and my throat felt like sandpaper.
"You're awake."
I didn't need to look to know who it was.
I turned my head slowly.
Dante stood at the foot of the bed, dressed in black. His jaw was tight. His eyes darker than I'd ever seen them.
Not cold.
Furious.
Despite my…condition, I smiled.
"Water," I croaked.
He handed it to me without a word. I drank greedily, his gaze never leaving my face.
"So," he said quietly as I set the cup down. "this is how you get my attention."
"It worked," I murmured. "You were watching."
He didn't utter a reply.
That was answer enough.
"You locked me in a room like I was nothing," I said hoarsely. "No freedom. Just your eyes on me. I couldn't breathe."
"You could have died," he snapped.
"But I didn't."
His hands curled into fists.
"Do you have any idea what would've happened if you had?"
"Yes." I met his stare. "You would've come anyway."
Something shifted in him.
Not anger.
Not relief.
But…Interest.
"You're reckless," he said slowly. "And stupid."
"Maybe," I whispered. "But I'm not weak."
He stepped closer…too close. His presence filled the room.
"You think hurting yourself gives you leverage?"
"No." My voice was steadier now. "I think it proves something."
"What?"
"That you don't own me," I said. "Not like that. Not locked up. Not silenced."
He studied me like a problem he hadn't expected to enjoy.
"I'll marry you," I continued. "I'll play the role. Stand beside you. Help you destroy whoever you want. But I won't live like a rat under glass."
I lifted my chin.
"You'll treat me like a wife. Not a prisoner."
His eyes flicked to my bandaged wrist and he exhaled slowly. Then he reached out, brushing his thumb along my jaw.
"You're insane," he murmured.
"Good," I said softly. "Then we match."
A low sound escaped him—not quite a laugh.
"You terrified my men," he said. "They didn't know whether to save you… or fear what I'd do to them if they failed."
"And you?" I asked quietly. "What did you feel?"
His gaze locked onto mine.
"Annoyed," he said. "That you'd dare damage something that belongs to me."
There it was. That…possessiveness
He straightened. "You'll stay here tonight. Under watch. No locks."
I blinked. "That's it?"
"For now." His mouth curved slightly. "You've made your point."
He turned to leave but paused briefly at the door.
"Get some rest, Amalia," he said calmly. "Beauty sleep."
My chest tightened.
"Our wedding is tomorrow."