Chapter 5

Sophia remained by the window, her mind racing with questions she couldn’t answer. Where was Dante taking her? Why now? And what exactly did he want from her that he hadn’t already claimed?

Her body tensed with the thought of it, every muscle coiled in anticipation of the unknown. She hated that even now, she felt the subtle tug of his presence, the pull that made her both furious and… intrigued.

But she wasn’t here for Dante. She reminded herself of that. She was here for her mother, and if she had to endure Dante’s control for a while to secure her mother’s health, then she would. But she wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. The door creaked open slightly, and the same woman from before—Dante’s staff, the one who had brought her tea—stepped in quietly.

“Miss, Mr. DeLuca has instructed that I help you get ready for the day,” she said gently, her tone neutral but with an underlying sense of urgency.

Sophia turned slowly, eyeing the woman. “What does ‘getting ready’ entail exactly?”

The woman hesitated, then offered a tight smile. “It’s best not to ask too many questions, miss. He’ll explain everything in time.”

Sophia bit back a sarcastic reply. “Of course he will.”

The woman gestured toward a set of clothes laid out on a nearby chair—a sleek black dress, understated but elegant, paired with expensive heels. It was the kind of outfit Sophia imagined women in Dante’s circle would wear, stylish but meant to blend into the background rather than stand out.

Sophia stared at it, a lump forming in her throat. Another reminder of the gilded cage she now found herself in. “I’m not wearing that.”

The woman glanced at the dress, then back at Sophia. Her voice softened. “You should reconsider. This isn’t a fight you’ll win.”

Sophia sighed, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on her. She didn’t have many options at the moment. Grudgingly, she nodded. “Fine.”

The woman nodded, relieved, and helped Sophia into the dress. It fit perfectly, hugging her body in a way that felt both restrictive and strangely empowering. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and almost didn’t recognize the woman staring back. She looked polished, poised—like someone who belonged in Dante’s world. But she didn’t feel like herself.

Once she was dressed, the woman stepped back, smoothing the fabric with careful hands. “Mr. DeLuca will meet you downstairs.”

Sophia glanced toward the door, her pulse quickening again. Whatever Dante had planned, she’d face it head-on. She had no other choice.

Dante was waiting for her in the grand foyer, his back turned as he spoke quietly into a phone. His presence filled the room, commanding without effort. Even from behind, he exuded control, dressed in a tailored suit that fit him like a second skin.

Sophia’s footsteps echoed in the silence as she descended the staircase. The soft clack of her heels on the marble floor made her feel exposed, every sound amplified in the vast space.

Dante turned as she approached, his gaze sweeping over her in one slow, deliberate motion. His eyes lingered for a moment too long, taking in the sight of her in the dress he’d chosen. There was a flicker of satisfaction in his expression—something dangerous and possessive.

“You look stunning,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

Sophia lifted her chin, refusing to be flustered by his compliment. “You don’t get to tell me how I look.”

Dante’s smile was faint, but it was there, as if her resistance only amused him. “I wasn’t asking for your permission. Just stating a fact.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but before she could retort, Dante gestured toward the door where a sleek black car waited outside. “Shall we?”

Sophia hesitated. She had no idea where he was taking her, and that uncertainty gnawed at her. But staying here, under his roof, felt no less like a trap. At least if she left, she might gain some clarity on what was coming next.

Without another word, she followed him outside.

The drive was quiet, the city blurring past as they moved through streets lined with towering buildings and bustling crowds. Sophia stared out the window, trying to gather her thoughts. Dante sat beside her, his presence heavy despite the silence. He was a man who could command a room without saying a word, and the weight of that realization settled over her like a cold mist.

As they drove deeper into the city, Sophia noticed a shift. The streets became more exclusive, more secluded, and the buildings were replaced with sprawling estates hidden behind high walls. It was the kind of place where power lived—where people like Dante conducted their business away from prying eyes.

The car finally pulled up in front of a massive building with tall, iron gates. Security guards stood at attention, their eyes flicking toward the car as they approached. Sophia’s stomach twisted into knots.

“What is this place?” she asked quietly, her voice tight with unease.

Dante didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped out of the car and waited for her to follow. She did, her legs shaky as she stood beside him.

“This,” Dante said, finally answering, “is where deals are made.”

Sophia’s heart skipped a beat. The way he said it—the cold finality of his tone—made her stomach churn. Deals? What kind of deal was he making now? Was this about her?

Before she could ask, Dante placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the entrance. The touch was subtle but commanding, reminding her of the power he held over her situation.

Inside, the atmosphere was tense, with sharply dressed men and women moving about with purpose. It was clear that this was no ordinary business. The air felt thick with wealth, power, and danger—an unholy trinity that made Sophia’s skin prickle.

Dante led her through a maze of corridors until they reached a private room with tall, arched windows overlooking the city. A man was already waiting inside, seated at a long table. He stood when they entered, his smile polite but cold.

“Sophia,” Dante said, introducing her with a flick of his hand. “This is Luca Romano. A business partner.”

Luca’s sharp eyes locked onto her, and Sophia could feel the weight of his scrutiny. There was something calculating in his gaze, something that made her feel like she was being appraised, though she had no idea for what purpose.

“It’s a pleasure,” Luca said smoothly, his voice as polished as his suit. “I’ve heard much about you.”

Sophia forced a tight smile, feeling the tension mount. “I wish I could say the same.”

Luca chuckled, clearly entertained by her retort. He exchanged a glance with Dante, something unspoken passing between them.

Dante’s expression remained unreadable, though his hand never left her back, the possessive touch a reminder that she was here because of him. “Let’s sit,” he said, motioning toward the table.

As they sat down, Sophia’s mind raced. What kind of business was this? What had Dante gotten her involved in now?

And why did she feel like the real deal being made had something to do with her?