Diana POV
Diana waits until she hears the shower running.
The sound of water fills the penthouse. Steam escapes from the master bathroom. She has maybe fifteen minutes before Alessio emerges and finds her. The wedding night is supposed to be theirs. The media expects them to consummate the marriage. Instead, Diana needs answers.
She walks to his desk in the darkened office.
The drawer is locked. She tries the obvious places. Under the desk. Behind the drawer. Nothing. Then she notices the small panel on the underside. A key taped there. Professional security. Someone who trusts no one.
The drawer opens.
Inside is a folder with her name written in Alessio's handwriting.
Diana pulls it out and sits in his chair. The leather is still warm from him. She opens the folder and immediately understands that she's made a serious mistake in asking questions.
Photographs cover the first pages. Diana at the courthouse. Diana leaving her office building. Diana at a restaurant with James Park. Diana at a coffee shop ordering black coffee. Diana walking down a street with her earbuds in, completely unaware she was being watched.
Diana flips through them slowly.
Some are recent. Some are years old. The earliest photograph is dated four years ago. The courthouse where she won the shipping dispute. Alessio was there. He saw her. He decided something in that moment.
And then he spent four years documenting her life.
Below the photographs are notes. Detailed observations about her cases. Her methodology. How she thinks. Her patterns. Her routines. Her coffee order. The restaurants where she has lunch every Thursday. The gym she uses. The hours she works. The hotel where she stays when traveling.
This isn't casual observation.
This is surveillance. Calculated. Methodical. The work of someone willing to invest years in knowing another person.
Diana's hands are steady as she turns pages, but her mind is spiraling. She reads notes about her arguments with clients. Her interactions with James Park. Her sleep patterns based on the lights in her apartment. He's watched her. He's studied her. He's known more about her than she knows about herself.
Restaurant receipts are paper-clipped to pages. Each one marked with the date and the time she was there. He's tracked her consumption patterns. Learned what she eats when stressed. What she orders when happy. What she chooses when she's pretending to be professional.
Flight records come next. Every trip she's taken in the last three years. Each one documented with destination and duration. He knows where she goes. Who she visits. How long she stays away.
Then there are photographs of her apartment building. Marked with the apartment number. He's found where she lives. He's probably stood outside and watched her windows.
Diana closes the folder.
Her first instinct is to leave. To walk out of this penthouse and never return. To tell both families that the marriage is over and she's done.
But she can't.
The wedding was today. The announcement went out to the city. Both families are expecting her to play the devoted wife. The peace treaty is signed. Sealed. The city is already breathing easier. If she leaves now, the peace collapses. The violence restarts. The fifty people who were already dead are joined by hundreds more.
She's trapped by her own intelligence.
She agreed to marry him knowing he was obsessed. She agreed to marry him knowing he'd orchestrated their meeting. But she didn't understand the depth of it. She didn't understand that he's been watching her for four years. That he knows her better than she knows herself. That he's built an entire relationship with a version of her that only exists in his mind.
The shower turns off.
Diana puts the folder back exactly where she found it. The key goes back under the desk. She moves away from his chair and stands by the window just as the bathroom door opens.
Alessio emerges with dark hair wet, bare-chested, a towel around his waist. He's beautiful in a way that makes Diana want to scream. He's confident. He's dangerous. He's a man who's studied her until he knows exactly how to break her.
"Did you rest?" he asks, walking toward her like he has no reason to hide anything.
Diana doesn't answer.
Alessio's expression changes. He reads her face like she's just confirmed something he's been waiting to know. "You found it."
"Yes."
"I was going to show you," Alessio says. He's not defensive. He's just stating fact. "Tonight. After everything else. I was going to tell you exactly how far I went to have you."
Diana turns to face him. "You've been watching me for four years."
"Yes."
"You know where I live. Where I work. Who I see. What I eat. Every detail of my life."
"Yes," Alessio says. He sits on the edge of the bed like he's settling in for a confession. "I know you better than you know yourself, Diana. I know that you order coffee black because you think sweetness is weakness. I know you run every morning at six because it's the only time the city is quiet. I know you call James Park every Thursday because he's the only person you trust. I know that you cry alone in your apartment on Sunday nights because your father's death anniversary is coming."
Diana's breath catches. "How did you—"
"Your apartment calendar. I saw it through your window once. I've been patient because patience is what you need. Not someone who rushes. Someone who understands that you require time to trust."
Diana walks away from him. She can't stand in the same space while he talks about knowing her. While he admits to violating her privacy in ways she's only beginning to understand.
"This is insane," she says. "You're insane."
"Possibly," Alessio agrees calmly. "But I'm insane about you. And now you're my wife. Now you live in the same space I live in. Now you have access to me the way I've had access to you."
"I didn't choose this," Diana says. "I was manipulated into this."
"You were protected into this," Alessio corrects. "Someone was trying to kill you. I made sure you were married to the one person in this city willing to burn everything down to keep you alive."
Diana turns back. "So I'm supposed to be grateful?"
"No," Alessio says. "You're supposed to be honest. And the honest truth is that the moment the peace falls apart, you're expendable. The moment you walk away from me, you become a threat to both families. The moment you try to leave, the people hunting you will find you."
Diana understands the trap perfectly now.
She's married to him because the alternative is death. She's trapped in his penthouse because walking out means exposing herself to threats he's known about and she hasn't. She's locked in this marriage because the only thing standing between her and multiple criminal organizations is the man who's been obsessed with her for four years.
"What do you want from me?" she asks.
Alessio stands and walks toward her. Diana doesn't step back. She holds her ground even though her instinct is to run.
"I want you to understand that I would do anything to keep you alive," Alessio says. "I want you to understand that every manipulative thing I've done, I've done because I love you. And I want you to understand that we're not done yet. There's someone in the Russo family who's still planning your destruction. Someone Victor Russo is using as leverage. And that person is going to make a move soon."
"When?" Diana demands.
"I don't know. But it's coming. Which means you need to stay close to me. You need to let me protect you. You need to trust that I know what I'm doing."
Diana's phone buzzes on the nightstand. A message from an unknown number. A photograph. Victor Russo sitting across from someone Diana recognizes immediately.
Sergei Volkov. The Russo family's new lieutenant. Ambitious. Dangerous. Young enough to think he's untouchable.
The message reads: "Your new husband doesn't know that Sergei Volkov has decided you're the key to everything. He's been hired to make you disappear. The wedding was supposed to be the moment. Security was too tight. But he's patient. He'll wait for you to feel safe. And then he'll move."
Diana shows Alessio the message.
His entire body goes rigid. His expression shifts into something dangerous. Something that looks like a man who's just realized his careful plan has a fatal flaw.
"Sergei," he says quietly. "Victor sent Sergei."
"Who is he?" Diana asks, though she already knows the answer from the photograph.
"He's the one person in the Russo family who doesn't care about the peace. He's the one person Victor could hire to make a move that would restart the war. And he's the one person who knows how to disappear after he's done it."
Alessio walks to his desk and pulls open the drawer where Diana found the folder. He reaches deeper and pulls out a gun. She's never seen him with a weapon before. She's never understood how seriously he takes the threat.
"Pack a bag," Alessio says. "We're leaving the penthouse."
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere Sergei can't follow. Somewhere you'll actually be safe." Alessio checks the weapon with the kind of familiarity that suggests he's done this before. "And then, Diana, you're going to understand exactly what I'm willing to do to keep you alive."
Diana grabs a bag and starts throwing clothes into it.
She's no longer sure if she married a protector or a predator.
And she's terrified that by the time she figures out which one he is, it might already be too late.