Chapter 3

• Alessia
• I woke up with a pounding headache.
• Not just from stress, but from the suffocating weight of what today meant.
• My wedding day.
• I swallowed against the knot forming in my throat. I had spent the last twelve hours trying to convince myself that I could go through with this, that I could stand next to Dante, say the vows, and pretend to be the perfect bride.
• But it was just like turning myself into a prisoner.
• I couldn’t imagine being tied to Dante forever, unable to move freely, unable to uncover the truth on my own terms. I needed to escape no matter what.
• A sharp knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.
• Before I could respond, the heavy door creaked open, and a tall, poised woman strode in, her presence as cold as ice. She was followed by two younger maids carrying wedding dresses, their arms draped with layers of lace, silk, and embroidery.
• The woman’s calculating eyes swept over me before she spoke.
• “My name is Eleanor. I will be overseeing your preparations today.” Her tone was clipped, controlled even. “These are Lucia and Maribel. They will be assisting you.”
• I barely spared the maids a glance.
• What was the point of knowing their names? In a few hours, I wouldn’t be here.
• Instead of examining the extravagant gowns, I walked straight to the rack, then picked the plainest dress, and turned to face them.
• “This one.”
• Eleanor’s sharp features tightened in disapproval. “Miss Alessia, surely you’d prefer—”
• “I don’t care,” I cut in. “Just get on with it.”
• Lucia and Maribel exchanged nervous glances. Eleanor’s icy composure cracked for a second, her eyes narrowing as if she were seeing through me. What was the need of dressing extravagantly to a wedding I didn’t want? I rather save myself the work.
• I ignored her scrutiny and let them do their work. Within an hour, I was dressed, my hair pinned back in soft curls, my makeup enhancing the face of a woman who didn’t belong to herself anymore.
• I stared at my reflection. This isn’t me. Tears formed in my eyes as the only person that came to my mind was Dad, under no circumstances, on a day like this he should be here with me but he was no more.
• The thought made my stomach twist. I stiffened, wiping my tears, making sure my makeup wasn’t smurged.
• The door creaked open again, and I turned to see Dante.
• He leaned against the frame, arms crossed, taking me in from head to toe.
• A slow smirk curved his lips. “You look… different.”
• I arched a brow. “Different?”
• He stepped closer, eyes glinting with something unreadable.
• “Less like a woman going to war and more like a bride.”
• I scoffed, turning back to the mirror.
• “Well, that’s a shame. Because I still feel like I’m going to war.”
• Dante chuckled, his deep voice settling in my chest like an unsettling melody.
• “And yet, you picked the dullest dress in the collection.”
• I met his gaze through the mirror. “Why does it matter? You already have me. Isn’t that enough?”
• Something showed in his expression, amusement then curiosity.
• “I never took you for the type to surrender so easily.”
• I turned to face him, ignoring the way my pulse jumped when he reached out, tucking a stray curl behind my ear.
• “I wouldn’t call this surrender,” I said softly.
• His fingers lingered near my jaw. “No?”
• I tilted my head slightly, eyes locking onto his. “No. I’d call it romance”
• For a second, it was as if thr world stopped. Dante was used to women bending to his will, and yet here I was bending just enough to make him believe he had me right where he wanted.
• His smirk deepened, like he was savoring a game he didn’t fully understand yet.
• “I like that,” he murmured. “A woman who knows how to play.”
• I swallowed hard. “Then let’s see who wins.”
• Dante chuckled again but didn’t respond. Instead, he offered his arm.
• “Shall we?”
• I hesitated before slipping my hand around his. It felt suffocating to be this close to him, but I had no choice. I needed him to trust me, to think I had accepted my fate.
• But I hadn’t.
• Because tonight—I would be gone.
• …..
• The ceremony started as the usual wedding would.
• Everything was grand, elegant, and filled with people I barely knew—mafia families, high-profile figures, people who whispered about me as if I were nothing more than a pawn in Dante’s empire.
• I went through the motions, my face calm, my words measured.
• And then, just as the reception started fully, I executed my plan.
• I had spent the past few hours watching, waiting, finding the right moment.
• Dante was occupied, speaking with his men. His grip on me had loosened, his confidence in my submission growing. I watched carefully, making sure his mind was absent.
• I excused myself quietly, walking toward the private garden. The second I was out of sight, I ran.
• I darted through the back corridors, my dress billowing around me. I had memorized the estate’s layout, taking note of security shifts and blind spots.
• But even then, I knew escaping undetected was impossible.
• So I had to make them believe I was dead.
• Near the edge of the estate, I reached the cliffside, one that overlooked a violent, thrashing river below.
• I tore off my veil, letting it drift into the wind. I removed my shoes, leaving them near the edge.
• Then, with a deep breath, I jumped.
• The cold water swallowed me instantly. I refused to sink.
• The current was vicious, dragging me under, twisting me through the darkness. I fought against it. Every pull, every drag only fueled the fire in my chest, I would rise and I would survive. When I finally resurfaced, I was miles away.
• I crawled onto the riverbank, gasping, shivering, but alive.
• I didn’t hesitate. I staggered to my feet and disappeared into the street. Alessia Romano was dead. That would be the headline soon.
• But the woman I would become?
• She would be the one to destroy and bring Dante down.