Chapter 3 Episode 3

Sleep didn't come easily. Bella lay there, her body still, but her mind restless, thoughts darting between fear and defiance. What did Dante really want from her? She had been thrust into this world with no warning, no preparation, and yet, in that brief encounter, she had sensed something more than coldness in him. There was a darkness in his eyes, but there was also a flicker of something else. Something...unspoken.

She rolled onto her side, staring at the shadows that danced across the ceiling, wondering what kind of man he truly was beneath the hardened exterior. She had heard the rumors-stories about his cruelty, his temper, his unrelenting drive for control. But there was always more to a person than what people whispered in dark corners. She just didn't know if she was ready to find out what lay beneath the surface of Dante Romano.

The door creaked open softly, and Bella bolted upright, her heart racing. In the dim light, she saw a figure standing in the doorway. Her breath caught in her throat. Was it Dante?

But no-it wasn't him.

A woman stepped into the room, elegant and severe, her dark hair pulled into a tight bun. She wore a black suit, her lips painted a deep red that contrasted sharply with her pale skin. Her eyes were sharp, scrutinizing Bella with a mixture of disdain and curiosity.

"I see the new bride is still awake," the woman said, her voice clipped and formal. She moved further into the room, her heels clicking against the polished floor as she approached the bed. "I am Teresa, Mr. Romano's personal assistant. I handle all matters concerning the household and his... business."

Bella swallowed, nodding slowly. She hadn't expected anyone to visit her this late, least of all someone like Teresa, whose presence felt as cold and calculated as Dante's.

"Mr. Romano has instructed me to ensure you have everything you need," Teresa continued, her tone professional but impersonal. "You are, after all, his wife now."

Bella bristled slightly at the way Teresa said the word "wife," as though it was more of a title than a relationship. "Thank you," Bella murmured. "But I'm fine."

Teresa's eyes narrowed slightly, as though she didn't believe Bella for a second. "You may not fully understand what is expected of you, but you will. I will make sure of it."

There was a threat in her words, hidden behind the veneer of politeness. Bella straightened, meeting Teresa's gaze. "I didn't choose this," she said softly but firmly. "I was brought here against my will."

Teresa's lips curved into a small, humorless smile. "None of us choose the lives we lead, Mrs. Romano. But we all have a part to play." She turned, her eyes scanning the room briefly before landing back on Bella. "And your part, from now on, is to make Mr. Romano's life easier. You may not love him, but you will respect him."

Bella felt a surge of defiance rise within her. "I will respect him if he respects me," she said, her voice firmer now, unwilling to be intimidated.

Teresa's smile faded, her expression hardening. "You don't understand how this works, do you?" She took a step closer, her gaze icy. "Respect is earned in this world, and you have yet to earn anyone's. Least of all his."

Bella swallowed the knot in her throat. She wanted to argue, to stand up for herself, but the weight of the situation bore down on her. She was alone here, surrounded by people who served Dante, people who had lived under his rule for years. What power did she really have?

Without waiting for a response, Teresa turned on her heel and made her way to the door. Before leaving, she paused and looked over her shoulder. "A word of advice, Mrs. Romano-learn quickly. Because patience is not something Mr. Romano has in abundance."

And with that, she was gone, the door closing softly behind her.

Bella sat there for a moment, her hands gripping the blanket as she processed what had just happened. Teresa was more than just a personal assistant-she was a gatekeeper, a reminder that Bella was an outsider in this world. She had just been given her first warning, a subtle but clear message that her place here was precarious.

She lay back down, her mind buzzing with questions. How long could she survive in this house, surrounded by people who saw her as little more than a temporary inconvenience? And how long could she endure being married to a man who didn't trust her, a man who controlled every aspect of his world with an iron fist?

Morning came too soon. Bella woke to a soft knock on the door, her body stiff from the uneasy night's sleep. She groaned softly, pulling the blankets tighter around her, wishing she could stay in the safety of this room a little longer.

But the knock came again, more insistent this time.

"Mrs. Romano, it's time to get up," a voice called from the other side.

Bella sighed, forcing herself to sit up. She glanced at the clock on the wall-6:00 a.m. It was far too early for someone who had just endured the most stressful night of her life, but she had no choice. She was in Dante's world now, and everything moved on his time.

She slipped out of bed, her feet sinking into the plush carpet as she padded across the room to the door. When she opened it, she was greeted by a young woman dressed in a black uniform, her expression neutral but polite.

"I've been sent to help you prepare for breakfast," the woman said, bowing her head slightly.

Bella blinked, caught off guard by the formalities. "Breakfast?" she asked, her voice still groggy.

"Yes, ma'am. Mr. Romano requests that you join him in the dining room in an hour."

Bella's heart skipped a beat. She hadn't seen Dante since last night, and the thought of sitting across from him at a formal breakfast filled her with both anxiety and curiosity. She had so many questions, and yet, she wasn't sure if she was ready to face him again.

"I... I'll be ready," she said finally, stepping back to allow the woman into the room.

The woman moved efficiently, laying out a dress for Bella to wear-another luxurious gown, this one a soft shade of cream that flowed elegantly. Bella couldn't help but feel like she was being dressed for a performance, every detail of her appearance carefully curated to meet Dante's standards.

She stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection as the woman helped her with her hair and makeup. Bella barely recognized herself. The woman in the mirror looked poised, polished, every bit the part of a mafia boss's wife. But inside, Bella still felt like the same girl who had been dragged into this nightmare against her will.

An hour later, Bella found herself walking down the long, winding hallway toward the dining room. Her heart raced with each step, her mind racing with questions about what Dante would say-what he would demand of her.

As she approached the door, it swung open, revealing a grand dining room bathed in soft morning light. Dante sat at the head of the table, his back straight, his gaze cool and calculating as he watched her enter.

"Good morning, Bella," he said, his voice smooth as silk.

Bella swallowed, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "Good morning," she replied, her voice steady, though her pulse was racing.

Dante gestured for her to sit, and she did so, feeling the weight of his eyes on her the entire time. The room was too quiet, the tension between them palpable as the servants moved around, setting plates and pouring coffee.

He didn't speak at first, simply watching her with that same unreadable expression he had worn the night before. Bella shifted in her seat, feeling like she was being examined, judged.

Finally, he broke the silence. "I hope you slept well."

Bella glanced up at him, searching his face for any sign of genuine concern, but there was none. His words were formal, almost distant, as if they were nothing more than business partners having a polite conversation over breakfast.

"I slept... as well as could be expected," she said, trying to keep her voice neutral.

Dante's lips twitched slightly, but he didn't smile. "Good. You'll need your strength for the days ahead."

Bella frowned, unsure of what he meant. "The days ahead?"

Dante leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You may have been thrust into this world unwillingly, Bella, but you're here now. And there are certain... expectations that come with being my wife."

Bella's stomach tightened at his words. She wasn't sure what he was getting at, but she had a feeling she wasn't going to like it.

"What kind of expectations?" she asked, her voice cautious.

Dante's gaze darkened, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch. "You'll find out soon enough."