The next morning was quiet in the De Luca mansion. Isabella sat by Sofia's bed, watching her sister sleep. Sofia looked pale, her hair spread across the pillow. The last few days had taken so much from her. Isabella brushed her sister's hand softly.

"You're safe now," Isabella whispered. "I won't let anything happen to you again."

The door opened. Giulia stepped inside with a tray of food. "The doctor said she needs to eat when she wakes up."

"Thank you," Isabella said.

Giulia placed the tray down and looked at her. "Dante told me to tell you breakfast is in the dining hall. He wants you there."

Isabella's stomach tightened. She didn't want to see him after last night. "I'll come later."

Giulia shook her head. "You know he won't like that."

Isabella let out a small sigh. She leaned down and kissed Sofia's forehead before leaving the room. Her steps were heavy as she walked to the dining hall.

The long table was filled with food. Marco sat near the head, talking with two men Isabella didn't know. Dante sat at the end, calm as always. His eyes lifted the moment she entered, watching her closely.

"Sit," Dante said.

Isabella pulled out a chair far from him and sat down. One of the men, older and dressed in a dark suit, glanced at her and smirked.

"So this is the bride," the man said. "She looks softer than I expected."

Isabella looked down, trying to ignore him. Dante's eyes shifted at once.

"Careful," Dante said, his voice low but sharp. "You speak once more, and you won't leave this table."

The man laughed nervously. "I was only joking."

Dante slammed his glass down, making the table shake. "Does it look like I'm laughing?"

The room went silent. The man swallowed and nodded quickly. "No. Forgive me."

Isabella's cheeks warmed. She hated being the reason for the scene, but part of her felt a strange relief at the way Dante had shut him down.

Dinner moved on quietly. Isabella picked at her food. She could feel Dante's eyes on her often, but she refused to look up. When the meal ended, the guests left quickly. Marco walked out after them, leaving only Isabella and Dante at the table.

"You didn't eat," Dante said.

"I wasn't hungry," Isabella replied.

"You should eat," he said again, his tone more like an order.

"I'll eat later."

His jaw tightened, but he didn't push further. He stood and moved toward her. Isabella rose quickly, planning to leave, but his hand caught her arm. She froze and looked up at him.

"Let go," she said.

He leaned down slightly. "You're mine in every way. Don't forget that."

Her pulse quickened. "I don't belong to you. I'm here because I had no choice."

"You'll see soon enough," he said, his voice calm but firm.

She pulled her arm free and walked out quickly, her mind racing. Back in her room, she sat by the window, staring out at the gardens. Hours passed before she finally tried to sleep.

She was half-asleep when there was a knock at the door. She sat up, unsure if she should answer. The door opened slowly, and Dante stepped inside. He closed it behind him, his eyes fixed on her.

"Why are you here?" Isabella asked, clutching the blanket to her chest.

He walked closer, not rushing. "Because you've been avoiding me all day."

"I don't want to see you," she said quickly.

"You don't get to decide that." He stopped at the side of her bed. "You can run from me during the day, Isabella. But at night, you can't hide."

Her breath caught. "Stay away from me."

"You don't mean that." He reached down and took her hand, pulling it free from the blanket. His fingers brushed against hers, making her shiver.

"Dante..." she said, her voice unsteady.

He leaned in, his hand lifting to her cheek, thumb brushing her skin. "I could take you right now. You want me to."

She shook her head quickly. "No. I don't."

He leaned closer, his lips almost touching hers. Her body froze, caught between fear and something else she didn't want to admit. His other hand rested on her waist, holding her in place.

Their lips brushed for just a second before Isabella pulled back, her hand pushing against his chest. "Stop. I don't want this."

For a moment, silence filled the room. Dante's eyes stayed on her, dark and unreadable. Then, slowly, a smirk spread on his lips.

"You can run from me in this house, Isabella," he said quietly. "But you'll never escape me."

Before she could answer, he leaned down and kissed her. It was not gentle. His mouth pressed against hers, stealing her breath. She pushed at him, but his grip held firm for a moment longer before he finally let go.

He stepped back, his smirk still there. Without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving her shaken and breathless.

Isabella touched her lips with her fingers, her heart racing. She didn't know if she hated him or hated herself more for the way she had almost kissed him back.

Isabella overslept the next morning. Her head was pounding after the night spent with Dante in her roin. She washed her face hastily and dressed in a simple dress. Sofia was still sleeping when she went to check on her, and Isabella decided not to wake her.

She went downstairs and found Bianca in the kitchen, helping one of the servants to carry baskets of vegetables.

"Do you need any help?" Isabella asked.

Bianca shook her head, smiling faintly. "No, thank you. You should sit down and eat. Breakfast is ready."

"I'm not hungry," Isabella said, even as her stomach growled.

Bianca laughed softly. "Your stomach doesn't agree with you. Come, eat something before Dante discovers you didn't.".

Isabella sighed and sat at the small table. Bread, eggs, and fruit were served by a maid. She ate the breakfast slowly.

"Is it always so quiet in the mornings?" Isabella said.

"Mostly," Bianca said. "Unless Giulia comes home. Then it is never quiet."

"Where is she?" Isabella said.

"She's with friends in Milan. She'll be back next week.".

Isabella nodded. She had no idea why she was curious, but something about her had to know more about the individuals in this house. It made her feel less like a prisoner.

Isabella went back to her room after breakfast. She sat by the window, looking out at the garden. The longer she stayed in the mansion, the more suffocated she felt. She longed to go see Elena, her best friend, but Dante had made it explicit that she could not go out.

By the afternoon, she could not bear it anymore. She left her room, descended the stairs, and found one of the guards standing by the front door.

"I need some air," she said to him.

The guard shook his head. "I'm sorry, signorina. Mr. Dante left instructions that you are not to leave the grounds."

"I'm not asking to leave for good," Isabella said in frustration. "I just want to go visit my friend. It's not dangerous."

He looked anxious. "I cannot allow that."

Isabella crossed her arms. "Suit yourself. Then don't watch."

The guard had no opportunity to prevent her before she pushed past him and walked quickly out the door. She heard him yelling after her, but she didn't look back. She walked down the street until she flagged down a taxi and gave Elena's address.

Elena's eyes went wide when she opened the door. "Isabella? What are you doing here?"

"I had to see you," Isabella said, hugging her tightly.

"You look tired," Elena said, pulling her in. "What's going on? Is Dante treating you badly?"

Isabella fell onto the couch, shaking her head. "It's complicated. He's... controlling. He thinks I'm his. But Sofia is safe because of him. I don't know how to feel."

Elena sat beside her. "You don't owe him anything. You didn't ask for this."

"I know," Isabella replied quietly. "But sometimes I feel like I'm suffocating when he's around."

Elena scowled. "That's not love, Bella. That's fear."

Isabella turned away, her chest constricted. "Perhaps both."

They chatted for a bit about nothing in particular-Elena's work, her neighbors, frivolous gossip that had nothing to do with mafia or peril. For the first time in weeks, Isabella laughed. She hadn't known how much she needed this.

But her respite was brief. An hour later, there were loud knocks at the front door. Elena stood up at once, worried. Isabella froze. The door opened and two of Dante's men appeared.

"Miss Romano," one of them said firmly. "You have to come with us."

Isabella's heart sank. "No. Please. Just give me more time."

"Now," said the man.

Elena tried to step forward. "She's safe here. Let her stay."

The man nodded. "Mr. Dante's orders."

Isabella hugged Elena briefly. "I'll phone you when I'm able."

She was led out and put into a black car. The ride home seemed to take an eternity. The men were quiet. Isabella's hands clenched in her lap. Her stomach churned. She knew Dante would be furious.

As the car pulled up to the mansion, Dante was already outside. He had his arms crossed, his face unreadable. The men opened her door, and Isabella got out.

"Inside," Dante commanded curtly.

She went first, her steps slow. When they were alone in the foyer, he turned on her. His voice was razor-sharp. "What were you thinking?"

"I needed to see my friend," Isabella said. "I'm not your prisoner."

His eyes narrowed. "You are to be my wife. That makes you my responsibility. You don't just take off without telling me."

"I told your guard," Isabella said, her voice rising. "He attempted to hold me up. I went anyway. I'm not a child."

Dante's jaw clenched, he shot the guard a dirty look who immediately looked away. Before Isabella could speak, he drew his gun and executed the man.

Isabella screamed, watching as the man collapsed.

"That's on you, Belle. "You're careless. If Adrian's men spotted you, they would have snatched you like they did your sister."

"Don't drag Sofia into this," Isabella shot back, her own eyes shocked wide as she stared at the body. "Do you think you're the only one worried about her? Do you think I don't know the risks? My father tried to use me as a pawn, and now you're trying to do the same. You're just his puppet."

With a nod, the other guards took the body away.

The words hit him, and his eyes darkened. He stepped nearer, towering over her. "Careful, Isabella."

"No," she said, her voice shaking but firm. "You don't own me. You just killed your men because of some foolish claim on me. You can order your men around, but you can't order me."

His hand shot out and grasped her face, forcing her to look up at him. His grip was firm but not painful. "Look at me when you speak and I'll kill many more if you disobey me."

Her chest rose and fell rapidly. She tried to pull away, but his grasp didn't waver.

"You don't understand," Dante whispered, his voice low. "If you step outside without me, you're risking your life. And I'm not going to lose you. Not to Adrian. Not to anyone."

Her mouth opened, words stuck in her throat. Their faces were inches apart, too close. The space between them grew tense. His eyes locked with hers, then slid to her lips.

"Dante." she whispered.

He leaned in so that his mouth almost brushed against hers. His breath was warm on her skin. "If you ever disobey me again," he growled softly, "I'll make you experience what it is like being the wife of Il Diavolo."

Her heart pounding, his lips brushed against hers, not quite a kiss, enough to chill her body. Then he let her go and stepped back, leaving her standing there breathless and shaking.