Chapter 7

• 【Alana’s POV】
• In just two days, I moved into the manor.
• “Welcome.” Leo opened his arms, exaggeratedly gesturing for a hug but didn’t even touch my clothes. “Father has prepared the best place for you.”
• I smirked slightly, watching him play his part.
• He led me not toward the sunlit main building, but down a gloomy corridor.
• He took me into a small room with the only window facing a high wall, blocking out all sunlight.
• Leo had a smug smile on his face as he looked at me.
• “Here you go, your bedroom, my dear future Mrs. Moretti.”
• He deliberately dragged out his tone, stepping aside to let me see the room inside.
• The room was filled with old furniture. A hard board bed stood in the corner, the air carried a musty smell, and dust lined the edges of the window.
• This place would probably even be looked down upon by the lowest servants in the manor.
• I took a step forward, getting close to him, and could smell the scent of another man on him.
• I gently placed my suitcase by the door, making a dull thud.
• Turning around, I looked him straight in the eye and smiled.
• “Not bad.” I tilted my head to observe the surroundings. “I quite like it here, Leo. I just wonder if your lover is treated the same way here. Or should I ask your father if we can all move in together? Will that scene be more exciting than yesterday’s engagement party? Will it make the front page of tomorrow’s gossip magazine?”
• His smug expression froze, turning into that of a fierce, protective beast, as if he wanted to devour me.
• “Alana Valier! Shut your filthy mouth if you want to live a little longer.”
• “Then you’d better change my room right now. That’s my only condition, dear future husband.”
• “You…” He struggled to get a word out, his voice dry and hoarse.
• “Immediately,” I repeated, with no room for negotiation in my tone—only command.
• As he reluctantly turned to make arrangements, I shook my head in resignation, wondering how I ever thought I could like him.
• He huffed and turned away.
• Closing the door and leaning against the cold door panel, the smile on my lips slowly faded.
• Leo seemed to really value this lover of his. I needed to have Cheet investigate thoroughly.
• Late at night, I lay in bed, listening to the wind outside the window howling past the high walls, pondering my next move in the game.
• Just then, steady footsteps sounded in the corridor, stopping directly outside my door.
• The next second, the lock clicked softly, and the door was pushed open from the outside.
• Dante stood at the doorway, still carrying the chill of the late night, not even wearing a coat—just a dark silk robe.
• “The security system of the manor is a bit outdated.” He scanned the room. “I’ve asked the technicians to come and check the wiring.”
• Behind him, Johnson and two servants stood with their hands hanging down, not daring to breathe.
• Dante’s gaze fell on me. Those eyes... not like someone looking at a weakling in need of protection, but like someone examining a precious treasure that belonged to him but had been carelessly placed by someone else.
• He didn’t ask for my opinion, just slightly turned his head and ordered the butler, “Move Ms. Valier’s things to the master bedroom next door.”
• Leo rushed over, standing at the other end of the corridor, watching helplessly as my pitiful suitcase was respectfully carried away by the servants.
• His face turned liver-colored, his fists clenched at his sides, his eyes burning with anger, humiliation, and a hint of... helplessness.
• He stared at his father fiercely.
• Dante finally shifted his gaze away from me and onto his son. “Is this how you treat your fiancée? I’ll emphasize it again, Leo Moretti—she is the new Mrs. Moretti.”
• He walked up to Leo, stopped in front of him, raised his hand, and adjusted the collar of his robe for him. The movement was slow and deliberate, yet carried an invisible intimidation.
• “In my house,” Dante’s voice was as light as a whisper but clear enough for everyone to hear, “we follow my rules. Understand?”
• Leo’s lips trembled, and in the end, like a defeated rooster, he hung his head.
• And so, I was “invited” into Dante’s adjacent room.
• This room was a world apart from the one I had been in before.
• Soft wool carpet, huge French windows, and outside the window, a rose garden bathed in moonlight. But I couldn’t sleep a wink.
• That wall—it separated me and Dante Moretti, yet made us so close.
• I lay on the soft bed, feeling nervous for the first time. A mix of danger and inexplicable excitement coursed through my body like electricity.
• This man had taken me under his wing in the most forceful way.