Chapter 4 Blood and Vows

I woke up to the sound of loud voices.

Men were shouting somewhere outside the room, their words sharp and angry. My heart raced. Something was wrong.

I sat up quickly, clutching the blanket around me.

The door flew open and Dante stormed in. His white shirt was gone, replaced with a black one, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A gun rested in his hand and his jaw was tight with anger.

"Get dressed," he ordered.

"What's happening?" I asked, my voice shaky.

"Now, Isabella," he snapped, his tone like steel.

I jumped from the bed, fumbling to throw on a simple dress. My hands shook as I tied my hair back.

When I turned he was watching me, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"Stay behind me," he said, moving to the door.

"Where are we going?"

He looked at me, his gaze intense. "You wanted to know what it means to be my wife? You'll learn today."

Dante led me through the long hallway, his hand tight around mine. Guards ran past us, some shouting orders into radios.

"Who's attacking?" one of them asked Dante.

"Rossi's men," Dante replied coldly. "They're stupid if they think they can touch my house."

My heart pounded harder. I didn't know who Rossi was but from the way Dante said his name I knew he was dangerous.

We reached the main living room. It looked like a war zone shattered glass on the floor, overturned furniture, and men with guns positioned near windows.

"Stay here," Dante ordered, pushing me gently toward a corner.

"No," I said quickly, panic rising in me. "What if they. What if they shoot"

His eyes softened slightly but his tone stayed firm. "I said stay. You're safer where I can see you."

Then he turned, barking orders to his men.

I watched him move, calm and controlled like a general in battle. His every step was sure, every command followed instantly.

And then, without warning, gunfire erupted outside.

I jumped, covering my ears.

"Stay down!" one of the guards shouted, pulling me closer to the wall.

But all I could see was Dante moving toward the window, his gun raised. He looked fearless, like the danger didn't touch him.

Glass shattered as bullets hit the windows. Men shouted, returning fire.

Suddenly, a loud crash came from the back entrance.

"They're inside!" someone yelled.

Before I could react, a masked man burst into the room, his gun aimed straight at me.

I froze, my heart stopping.

Then a single shot rang out.

The man dropped to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.

I turned, shaking, and saw Dante standing just a few feet away, his gun smoking. His eyes were locked on me, hard and possessive.

"Are you hurt?" he demanded.

I shook my head, still trembling.

He crossed the room in seconds grabbing my arm and pulling me close. His hand slid to my cheek, his thumb brushing it softly as he looked me over.

"You're shaking," he said, softer now.

"I'm fine," I whispered, though my voice betrayed me.

His jaw tightened. "You're not fine."

Then without warning, he pulled me against him, his arms wrapping around me protectively.

My face pressed against his chest and I could feel his heartbeat. Steady, strong, nothing like mine.

"You're safe," he murmured, his lips near my ear. "I won't let anyone touch you."

Something inside me twisted at his words, a mix of fear and something I didn't want to name.

The gunfire slowly faded. Dante barked more orders and his men moved to clear the house.

When the last of Rossi's men were gone, Dante led me back to the bedroom.

He shut the door behind us, locking it.

"You shouldn't have seen that," he said, pacing the room. His shirt was torn at the sleeve, a streak of blood on his arm.

"Are you hurt?" I asked quickly.

He looked at me, surprised. "It's not my blood."

I hesitated then stepped closer. "But you... You killed someone. For me."

His eyes softened just slightly. "I'd kill a thousand more if they even thought about touching you."

My chest tightened.

"Why?" I asked, my voice small. "Why do you care so much? You bought me, Dante. I'm not... I'm not your wife."

He moved closer, his expression darkening.

"You are my wife," he said firmly. "And in my world, that means you're mine. No one touches what's mine."

I stepped back but he followed, his presence overwhelming.

"Stop saying I'm yours," I whispered.

His eyes locked with mine, his voice low, almost a growl. "Then stop looking at me like you want me to be."

I gasped softly, heat rushing to my face.

"I don't," I said quickly, but even I didn't believe my own words.

Dante's smirk was slow and dangerous. "Liar."

The room felt hot suddenly, the air thick between us.

Dante reached up, brushing a strand of hair from my face. His fingers lingered on my cheek, sliding slowly to my jaw.

"Tell me you hate me," he murmured, his lips close to mine.

"I... I hate you," I whispered, though my voice cracked.

He tilted his head, his thumb brushing my lower lip. "Then why are you shaking?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't.

His gaze dropped to my lips for just a second before he pulled back suddenly stepping away.

"Go to bed," he said, his tone clipped now.

I stood frozen, my heart still racing.

He turned toward the door, his back to me.

But before he left, he said, without looking at me:

"Tomorrow, you'll start learning how to survive in my world. Because after tonight, Rossi won't stop. And neither will I."

Then he left, the door shutting behind him.

I sat on the bed, my fingers brushing my lips where his thumb had been.

I hated him. I feared him.

But the worst part?

I couldn't stop thinking about what it would feel like if he kissed me and handled me. Deep down I wanted more, I NEEDED more.