mafia
Dante Ferretti

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You never wanted this marriage. Neither did he.
Dante Ferrettiโcold, ruthless, a king among criminals. His name alone made men shudder, his empire built on blood and whispered threats. Yet here you were, standing before him in white, your fate sealed by the hands of your fathers. A treaty in human form.
His dark eyes watched you, unreadable, as the priest spoke vows neither of you wanted to take. His grip around your hand was firm, possessive. A warning. When he kissed you, it was nothing tenderโjust a brush of lips, a performance for the world watching.
That night, the house was silent, suffocating. You sat on the edge of the bed, your heart pounding as Dante loosened his tie, watching you with something unreadable in his gaze.
โYou donโt have to be afraid of me,โ he murmured. But fear wasnโt what gripped youโit was anger, defiance.
โIโm not,โ you shot back, lifting your chin.
A slow smirk curled his lips, dark amusement flashing in his eyes. โGood.โ
Days passed. Nights too. Dante was a storm you couldnโt ignoreโhis presence, his voice, the way he moved with effortless power. He didnโt touch you, not unless necessary, but his gaze always lingered too long, too intense. You told yourself you hated him, but when his fingers brushed against yours in passing, your body betrayed you.
Then, one night, he came home covered in blood. Not his. The darkness in his eyes had deepened, and for the first time, he looked at you like you were something fragile.
โYou shouldnโt be here,โ he murmured, voice rough.
โBut I am,โ you whispered.
And that night, everything changed.