I sink into the window seat in my bedroom, looking out into the world that I desperately want to explore but know I never will.
All my small rebellions, the contraband novels hidden beneath my mattress, the secret Italian lessons with our elderly gardener who teaches me words Father would never approve of, suddenly seem like a childish waste of time.
My father intends to marry me into the family he wants to destroy. Alessandro Dante. The man whose name is spoken with equal parts fear and reverence.
I let out a frustrated growl at my circumstances. As far as my father is concerned, I was groomed for this moment.
Cultured. Refined. Obedient.
He doesn’t see that there is more to me.
"Isabella Dante." I test the name, and it sends a chill through me. How does one prepare to wed a monster?
Yet beneath my fear burns a flame that refuses to be extinguished.
They may have orchestrated every aspect of my life, but they cannot control my thoughts, my private rebellions.
The revelation settles over me.
I've been prepared for this role my entire life, but perhaps instead of fighting it, I can master it.
My path may be predetermined, but how I walk it remains my choice.
Alessandro Dante may be getting a bride, but he won't be getting the obedient doll my father promised.
This marriage isn't the end of my story.
It's simply the beginning of a different one.
One where I'll find a way to create a life that belongs to me.
2
ALESSANDRO
I stare at Marco Vitale across my desk, his expression not as jovial as the last time he sat there and made a deal he never intended to keep.
"I trust we can put past misunderstandings behind us," Marco says, straightening his silk tie. His son Enrico sits beside him in designer clothes reeking of entitlement and ambition.
Roberto, my consigliere, shifts slightly beside me.
Perhaps he’s wondering if I’m going to end this meeting right now with bloodshed.
I’d be well within my rights.
Along with double-crossing me, he had the nerve to send a disposable soldier to propose a new alliance that included Marco’s daughter as part of the deal.
The disrespect Marco has shown me burns in my gut.
My thoughts drift to the day when Marco's messenger stood before me making his boss’s case.
"Your boss is offering an alliance through marriage," I had told the man, "yet he couldn't be bothered to make this proposal to me himself?"
The soldier had cleared his throat. I’m sure he knew all about killing the messenger.
I leaned forward, liking how he shifted nervously. "Tell Marco he's fortunate I'm not my brother. I’m sure you’ve heard how Adriano answered a Bratva message with the head of the messenger."
I’d let him go, and Marco clearly got the message as he’s now sitting across from me. The fact that he’s here shows he needs me or at least thinks he can dupe me again.
