Chapter 2: The Devil’s Ledger

The blood on the marble floor had started to congeal, a dark, glossy smear under the chandelier’s unforgiving light. My heel was still sticky with it, a macabre glue anchoring me to the spot. Dante didn’t move, didn’t blink. He was a statue carved from ice and arrogance, his immaculate black suit a stark contrast to the chaos he’d just unleashed.

“You’re shaking,” he observed, his voice a low, velvet rasp that did nothing to soothe the tremor running through my limbs.

I wasn’t cold. I was terrified. And furious. I’d just watched his men drag Vittore Gallo, my fiancé, out of his own party with a broken nose and a shredded reputation. I’d just learned my ‘devoted’ fiancé was a spy, and the man I was now engaged to was the city’s most feared crime lord.

“You’re insane,” I whispered, the words tasting like ash.

Dante’s lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Insanity is a matter of perspective, piccola. From where I stand, I’m the only sane man in the room.” He gestured to the empty space beside him. “Come. We have business.”

I hesitated, my gaze flicking to the exit. The guards at the door had already closed the distance, their bulky forms blocking my only escape route. I was a caged bird, and the cage was made of Italian silk and sharpened steel.

Slowly, I walked toward him. Each step felt like a confession.

He led me to a private study, a room I’d never seen before, hidden behind a false bookshelf. The opulence was suffocating—leather-bound books, a roaring fireplace, and a desk that could have served as a coffin for a giant. He sat behind it, the master of his domain, and I sat across from him, a supplicant before her king.

“Your father,” Dante began, his eyes fixed on the flickering flames, “owes a considerable sum to my organization.”

My blood ran cold. “My father would never—“

“Never what?” Dante cut in, finally looking at me. “Never gamble? Never invest foolishly? Or never try to buy his way into a world he doesn’t belong to?” He pulled a leather-bound ledger from his desk drawer and tossed it in front of me. The pages were marked with red ink, numbers that made my stomach plummet. “Three million, four hundred thousand. That’s what he owes me. And he’s missed two payments.”

I stared at the numbers, my vision blurring. This couldn’t be right. My father was a respected businessman, a pillar of the community. But the proof was there, in Dante’s cold, precise handwriting.

“What do you want?” My voice was hoarse.

Dante leaned forward, his forearms resting on the desk. The firelight carved shadows into his face, making him look more demon than man. “I want a wife.”

I choked out a laugh. “You have a strange way of proposing.”

“This isn’t a proposal, Eva. It’s a contract.” He slid a single sheet of paper across the desk, its edges crisp and perfect. “You will marry me. You will play the devoted wife. You will smile for the cameras, attend the galas, and let the world believe that the ruthless Dante Rossi has been tamed by love.”

He paused, letting the words sink in. “In exchange, your father’s debt is cleared. I’ll even give him a generous business loan to keep his company afloat. But if you refuse—” He picked up the ledger and snapped it shut. “I’ll make sure every bank, every investor, every journalist in this city knows exactly what kind of man your father is. His reputation will be in shambles by morning. His company will be bankrupt by the end of the week.”

The air left my lungs. “You’re a monster.”

“I’m a businessman,” he corrected, his voice devoid of emotion. “And you, my dear, are a liability whose family is in debt. I’m offering you a way out. A way to save your father, to save your family’s name.”

I wanted to scream. I wanted to claw his eyes out. But I was trapped, the walls closing in on me with every beat of my heart.

“Why me? You could have any woman in the city.”

Dante’s gaze softened, just a fraction, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something human beneath the ice. “Because you’re not afraid to bleed in front of me. That takes courage. And courage is a currency I value highly.”

He stood, walking around the desk until he was looming over me. His hand reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. The touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the violence I’d witnessed earlier.

“One year, Eva. That’s all I’m asking. One year of your life, and I’ll give you everything you could ever want. Money. Protection. Freedom. And I’ll make sure your family is safe forever.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. I could see the exit, the door I could run through. But I also saw the ledger, the truth of my family’s ruin. I had no choice.

“And if I say yes?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Dante’s smile returned, slow and predatory. “Then we start tonight. The wedding will be in forty-eight hours. You’ll have a new wardrobe, a new home, and a new name.”

He waited, his eyes boring into mine, demanding an answer. The silence stretched, thick and heavy.

I thought of my father, of his tired eyes and shaking hands. I thought of my mother, who had always wanted nothing more than to see me married well. I thought of the life I was about to lose.

But most of all, I thought of the way Dante had made me feel when he’d pulled that trigger and destroyed my engagement. He’d taken control of my chaos, and a terrifying part of me, the part I’d never acknowledged, had felt safe.

I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze. “Yes.”

The word hung in the air like a gunshot.

Dante’s eyes darkened with a possessive fire. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small velvet box, flipping it open to reveal a ring that glinted like a promise forged in hell—a black diamond, encircled by blood-red rubies.

“Then let’s seal the deal, wife.”

He took my hand, his fingers cold and firm, and slid the ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly, as if it had been made for me.

“Welcome to the family,” he murmured, his thumb tracing a slow circle on my palm. “Don’t disappoint me.”

And as he leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear, he whispered the words that would haunt me forever.

“Because if you do, I’ll make sure the next time you bleed, it won’t be someone else’s blood on the floor.”

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. The ring felt like a shackle. The promise felt like a threat.

But the worst part? The most terrifying, sickening part?

My body didn’t want to pull away. My heart was racing with a thrill I couldn’t explain.

I had just sold my soul to the devil.

And I was already looking forward to the burn.