Chapter 5

• Clara’s hand itched to smack that cocky grin right off Dante Costa’s face. She’d figured he’d be tough or mean—someone like Ricardo, all cold and bossy. But she wasn’t ready for this. Dante wasn’t just icy. He was a weird mix of control, like he thought he ruled everything, and this annoying playfulness that made her mad. And worst of all, there was something about him—something hot and strong that pulled at her, even though she hated it. She could tell he knew it too. He knew how he got under her skin when he brushed her face, stared at her too long, or smirked like she was already his.
• But she wasn’t his. And she never would be.
• “Let’s just do this already,” Clara snapped, ripping her eyes away from him. She couldn’t stand looking at him anymore—it made her want to scream.
• Enzo, Dante’s brother, had been watching the whole thing with a little grin, like he was enjoying a show. He let out a quiet laugh. “I think I’m gonna like having you around, Clara,” he said, his voice light and teasing.
• She shot him a quick, hard look. His face didn’t have any mean in it—just curiosity, like he wondered what she’d do next. She didn’t know if she liked that or not.
• Ricardo stepped up then, clearing his throat loud enough to make everyone pay attention. “The engagement dinner’s tonight,” he said, his tone sharp like a teacher barking orders. “We’re announcing it in front of both families.”
• Clara’s stomach flipped over, twisting into a tight knot. Everything was happening too fast—way too fast. Just yesterday, she’d been a regular girl, planning a life with Ethan, dreaming about a wedding with the guy she loved. Now she was stuck here, forced to marry some jerk who looked at her like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to flirt with her or ruin her. Neither one felt good. Neither one felt safe.
• “Clara,” Ricardo said, his voice cutting through her thoughts, “you’re gonna behave. You’ll smile. You’ll make this engagement look real.”
• She clenched her teeth so hard her jaw hurt. “And if I don’t?” she asked, glaring at him.
• His face went dark, like a storm cloud rolling in. “You already know what happens next, this isn't up for debate.”
• Her hands balled into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. She knew he meant her sister—little Elena, the girl she hadn’t even met yet. He’d hurt her if Clara didn’t play along. She hated how trapped she felt.
• Dante sighed, all lazy and smooth, like he didn’t have a care in the world. “She’ll behave,” he said, his voice sliding out easy. “Right, sweetheart?”
• Clara spun toward him, her eyes blazing. “Call me that one more time, and I’ll knock your teeth out so this engagement ends bloody.”
• The room went quiet for a second. Nobody moved.
• Then Enzo burst out laughing, loud and sharp. “Oh man, I really like her,” he said, grinning big. “This is gonna be a blast.”
• Dante didn’t laugh, though. He just looked at her, his hazel eyes sharp like knives, studying her like she was a puzzle he wanted to figure out. Then he stepped closer—too close again. Her whole body went stiff as he reached out, his fingers sliding under her chin and tilting her face up.
• A hot spark shot through her, racing down her spine, but she forced her face to stay blank. She wouldn’t let him see it—not how he messed with her head.
• “You’ve got a mouth on you, cara mia,” he said, his voice low and smooth, like honey over gravel. “But watch it. In my world, people who talk big sometimes end up hurt.”
• Clara stared right back at him, refusing to blink. “Guess we’ll see who gets hurt first,” she shot back, her voice steady even though her heart was pounding.
• His fingers tightened just a little on her chin, and for a quick second, something dark flashed in his eyes—something dangerous that made her stomach drop. Then he let go, stepping back with that same annoying smirk.
• “You’re playing a risky game, amore,” he said, his tone light but edged with a warning. “Hope you can handle what comes next.”
• Clara swallowed hard, keeping her face tough even though her insides were shaking. Deep down, she knew she wasn’t ready—not for this, not for him. Dante Costa was a whole different kind of trouble, and she was way out of her depth.
• The Costa estate looked different that night. The big ballroom was packed with people—guys in sharp suits with hard faces, women in sparkly dresses that swished when they moved. The air smelled thick, like money and power mixed with fancy perfume and cigar smoke. Long tables stretched across the room, covered in white cloths and loaded with plates of food—steaming meats, bowls of pasta, glasses of dark red wine. Lights from huge chandeliers bounced off the walls, making everything glow gold.
• Clara sat at the main table, her hands squeezed tight in her lap. She forced a smile, her lips stretched stiff and fake. This was all a big act—a show for everyone watching. She felt like a sheep shoved toward a butcher, helpless and scared, even though she’d never admit it out loud.
• Dante was next to her, leaning back in his chair like he didn’t have a worry in the world. He looked relaxed, like being forced into a marriage was just another Tuesday for him.
• “You look gorgeous,” he said, his voice quiet and close.
• Clara didn’t say anything back. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. But he wasn’t wrong—she knew she looked good. The dress Ricardo had picked out was deep red, tight around her waist and flowing at the bottom, showing off her shape in a way that made her feel naked. It wasn’t her style—too bold, too loud—but it was meant to turn heads. And Dante was eating it up, his eyes sliding over her like he owned her already.
• “Smile, sweetheart,” he murmured, leaning in so his breath brushed her ear. “Don’t want anyone thinking this isn’t real.”
• Clara turned to him, flashing the biggest, fakest smile she could muster—like the ones she used to give her boss when he annoyed her. Then, under the table where no one could see, she slammed her heel down on his foot as hard as she could.
• Dante didn’t even twitch. His face stayed smooth, but that smirk came back—slow and dangerous, sending a cold shiver down her back.
• “I think I’m gonna have fun breaking you,” he whispered, so quiet only she could hear it.
• Her blood turned to ice. The way he said it—calm, sure, like it was a promise—made her skin crawl. But it wasn’t just fear. There was something else there, something she didn’t want to name, twisting in her chest. She wasn’t sure if he’d break her or if she’d snap first trying to fight him off.
• She shifted in her seat, pulling her hands tighter into her lap. The room buzzed around her—people talking, forks clinking on plates, glasses clinking together in toasts. Everyone acted like this was normal, like forcing two strangers to get married was fine. She glanced across the table—Ricardo was there, watching her with those cold eyes, making sure she didn’t mess up.