Chapter 3 The Wedding Night

The room was quiet, but my heart wasn't. It pounded so loudly I was sure Dante could hear it.

We had just returned from the ceremony. My hand was still in his, his grip firm and possessive, like he was afraid I'd vanish if he let go.

He pushed the door to my room open, leading me inside. But something felt different now. This wasn't just my room anymore. It was our room.

I turned to him, my voice sharp even though my chest felt tight. "You got what you wanted. We're married. Can I be alone now?"

Dante stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. The sound felt final, dangerous.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he leaned against the door, his dark eyes fixed on me.

"Do you think marriage to me means sleeping in separate rooms, little dove?"

My breath caught.

"No," I said quickly. "I'm not doing this. You can't force me-"

In a flash, he was in front of me, his hand cupping my chin, tilting my face up to meet his. His touch was firm, but his thumb brushed my cheek so gently it confused me.

"Relax," he murmured. "If I wanted to take you, I already would have."

I swallowed hard, my heart skipping at his words.

"Then what do you want from me?" I whispered.

His gaze softened just slightly, but his tone stayed low, dangerous.

"Obedience. Trust. And for you to understand one thing-I protect what's mine. Always."

"I'm not yours," I whispered, even though the ring on my finger told me otherwise.

His lips curled into a slow, dark smile. "Keep telling yourself that."

He stepped back slightly, his eyes roaming over me, taking in every detail of the white lace gown I still wore.

"You look beautiful in white," he said, his voice deeper now, huskier. "But I wonder how you'd look in nothing at all."

My cheeks burned hot. "Stop saying things like that."

"Why? Because it makes you nervous? Or because you like it more than you want to admit?"

I glared at him, but my body betrayed me-my hands trembled, and I couldn't hold his stare for long.

He stepped closer again, his fingers brushing the sleeve of my gown. Slowly, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his knuckles grazing my cheek.

My breathing quickened.

"Don't worry, little dove," he murmured, his lips close to my ear. "I'm not going to touch you tonight. Not until you beg me to."

I gasped softly, my heart racing so fast it hurt.

"I'll never beg you," I said, though my voice didn't sound convincing.

He chuckled, low and dark. "We'll see."

Then, without warning, he pulled away completely, leaving me cold and confused.

"Get some sleep," he said, walking toward the door.

"You're leaving?" I asked before I could stop myself.

He turned, one eyebrow raised, that dangerous smirk back on his lips.

"Why? Do you want me to stay?"

"No!" I said quickly, my cheeks heating again.

He opened the door but paused.

"Lock it if you want," he said. "But remember, you're my wife now. You're safest when I'm near."

Then he left, shutting the door behind him.

I collapsed onto the bed, my hands clutching the sheets.

What was happening to me? Why did his touch feel like fire and his words feel like chains I didn't want to break free from?

I didn't sleep. Hours passed, but my mind wouldn't stop racing.

Finally, I sat up and walked to the balcony. The night air was cool, and the guards still patrolled below.

Then I noticed something strange.

A shadow moved behind the hedge near the wall. A man stepped forward, glancing around nervously. When he spotted me, he gestured quickly, pointing to something on the balcony railing.

I looked down and saw a small folded piece of paper. My heart pounded as I grabbed it, opening it carefully.

There were only three words written inside:

"Trust no one."

I looked back at the man, but he was gone, swallowed by the darkness.

Trust no one? Did that mean... even Dante?

My chest tightened. I crumpled the paper, hiding it under my pillow.

I couldn't let him see it.

The door burst open suddenly, making me jump.

Dante stormed in, his suit jacket gone, his white shirt slightly unbuttoned, revealing the hard lines of his chest. His hair looked messier now, his eyes burning with anger.

"What's wrong?" I asked quickly.

"Someone tried to get into my property tonight," he said, his tone clipped, furious. "A traitor is among my men."

My stomach twisted. Could it have been the man who left the note?

Dante moved closer, his jaw tight. "Did anyone come to see you? Did anyone talk to you?"

I froze, clutching the sheets.

His dark eyes searched my face. "Isabella. Look at me."

I looked up slowly, trying to keep my face calm.

"Tell me the truth," he demanded.

"I-I didn't talk to anyone," I said. It wasn't a full lie. I hadn't talked to the man. But I had seen him.

Dante studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he stepped closer, crouching in front of me, his hand lifting my chin gently.

"I'll protect you, little dove," he said softly, almost like a promise. "But if you lie to me, if you ever keep something from me, I won't forgive it."

My heart pounded.

"I'm not lying," I whispered.

He stared into my eyes for what felt like forever before finally standing.

"Good," he said simply. "Because from now on, you never leave this room without me."

He turned to leave, but before he stepped out, he looked back, his expression softer now.

"Get some rest," he said. "Tomorrow, you start learning how to be my wife."

When the door closed, I collapsed back onto the bed, my hands shaking.

The note under my pillow burned like fire.

Trust no one.

But as I lay there, my chest tight, one question haunted me more than anything.

What if that meant... not even Dante?