The car slowed gradually, not enough to be obvious, but enough for Alessia to notice.
She had been watching everything since they left the city. Every turn. Every stop. Every change in speed. It was the only way to stay in control of something.
Even if that control was an illusion.
The men beside her hadn't spoken once. Not to her, not to each other. They didn't need to. Their silence felt trained, like they had done this too many times before.
She kept her face neutral, her body still, but her mind was anything but calm.
Her father was dead.
The thought came back again, sharper this time.
Dead.
Just like that.
No warning. No time to prepare. No last words.
One moment he had been standing there, untouchable as always.
The next, he was on the floor.
Gone.
Her fingers curled slightly against her dress.
The fabric was stiff now, dried with blood.
His blood.
She forced herself not to react.
Not here.
Not in front of them.
The gates appeared out of nowhere.
Tall, black, and solid.
They opened before the car even reached them.
Alessia's eyes narrowed slightly.
That meant communication.
Preparation.
They had known exactly when she would arrive.
The car moved forward.
The driveway was long, lined with trees that blocked out most of the outside world. It felt intentional, like once you entered, there was no easy way out.
She counted guards as they passed.
One. Two. Five. Ten.
More than visible.
Always more than visible.
They stood still, but their eyes followed the car.
Alert.
Disciplined.
Dangerous.
The mansion came into view slowly.
It was larger than hers.
But that wasn't what unsettled her.
It was the feeling.
Her home had always been filled with noise, movement, life. Even in danger, there had been warmth.
This place had none of that.
It felt… empty.
Not abandoned.
Controlled.
The car stopped.
One of the men stepped out first, then opened her door.
"Get out."
Alessia stepped out on her own.
She refused to be dragged anywhere.
If she was going to walk into this place, she would do it on her terms.
Even if those terms meant nothing to them.
The air was colder outside.
Or maybe it just felt that way.
She didn't hesitate as she walked forward, her posture straight, her expression calm.
Inside, her heart was beating too fast.
But she wouldn't let it show.
The doors opened.
She stepped inside.
Everything about the interior felt calculated.
Dark marble floors reflected the light overhead. The walls were clean, almost bare. There were no unnecessary decorations, no personal touches.
Nothing that made it feel like a home.
Only power.
"Stop."
Alessia kept walking.
A hand grabbed her arm.
Her reaction was instant.
She turned and slapped the man.
The sound echoed sharply.
The guard staggered back, stunned.
So did everyone else.
Alessia met his eyes without fear.
"Don't touch me again."
Silence filled the hall.
Heavy.
Waiting.
Then came the slow sound of clapping.
She turned.
Dante Romano stood at the far end.
Watching her.
He looked exactly the same.
Calm.
Untouched.
Like the bloodshed from earlier had never happened.
"Impressive," he said.
Alessia didn't respond.
She just watched him as he walked closer.
Each step slow. Controlled.
Confident.
"You hit my men," he continued.
"They shouldn't touch me."
A faint shift in his expression.
Interest.
"You're not in a position to make rules."
"And you're not in a position to control me," she replied.
That made a few of the guards shift.
Tension filled the air.
Dante stopped in front of her.
Close enough to feel his presence.
Not close enough to touch.
"You're in my house," he said.
"Everything here is under my control."
Alessia held his gaze.
"Then control them better."
A pause.
Then something unexpected.
He smiled slightly.
"You're not afraid."
"I am," she said.
"But not of you."
That was a lie.
And they both knew it.
But she didn't take it back.
"Good," he said.
Her brows pulled together slightly.
"You keep saying that."
"Because it matters."
Silence stretched between them.
"Why am I here?" she asked.
This time, he didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he studied her.
Like he was deciding how much to say.
"You're here," he said finally, "because you still have value."
Her stomach tightened.
"I'm not something you own."
"No," he agreed.
"You're not."
Then his voice lowered slightly.
"But you are useful."
She didn't like that word.
Not at all.
"For what?" she asked.
"For what comes next."
That answer made her uneasy.
Before she could ask more, he turned away.
"Take her upstairs."
The guards moved again.
This time, Alessia didn't resist.
Not because she accepted it.
But because she needed to see more.
Understand more.
The room they brought her to was large.
Too large.
A bed, a wardrobe, a window.
Everything clean.
Everything perfect.
She walked to the window immediately.
Locked.
Reinforced.
The door closed behind her.
She heard the lock.
Alessia stood still.
Then she moved.
Quickly.
She checked everything.
The walls.
The furniture.
The bathroom.
Nothing.
No weakness.
No tools.
No escape.
Her jaw tightened.
Of course.
He wouldn't make it easy.
A sound behind her made her turn.
The door opened.
Dante stepped in.
Alone.
That surprised her.
"What do you want?" she asked.
He closed the door.
Locked it.
"I wanted to see what you would do."
Her eyes narrowed.
"And?"
"You looked for a way out."
"Obviously."
"And you didn't cry."
Something in her chest tightened.
"I don't cry in front of people like you."
He watched her for a moment.
Then nodded.
"Good."
She exhaled slowly.
"You say that like it means something."
"It does."
Silence filled the room again.
Then he spoke.
"Your father made a deal."
Her heart skipped.
"What?"
"He wasn't supposed to die tonight."
Her pulse quickened.
"That's a lie."
"It isn't."
She shook her head.
"No. He would never trust you."
"He didn't."
That made her pause.
"Then who?" she asked.
Dante's gaze didn't leave hers.
"Someone he trusted."
The words landed slowly.
Her chest tightened.
"No," she said.
But doubt had already started to form.
"You're going to help me find them," Dante said.
Her head snapped up.
"I'm not helping you."
"You don't have a choice."
"I always have a choice."
This time, his expression hardened slightly.
"Not here."
The words felt final.
"And if I refuse?" she asked.
He stepped closer.
"Then you'll never get your revenge."
Her breath caught.
Because that…
That mattered.
More than anything else.