Finally they were rescued by his team.
The drive to Dante’s mansion stretched on, and Isla could hardly grasp the whirlwind she’d been swept into. As they drew closer, the dense trees cleared to reveal a towering, dark stone mansion tucked away in the hills, overlooking a valley below. It was as breathtaking as it was intimidating, fitting for a man like Dante.
The car came to a stop at the front entrance, where a pair of guards opened the door. Dante stepped out first, offering Isla a hand as she climbed out, feeling more out of place than ever. The towering building loomed above her, its sharp edges and cold stone reflecting the man who owned it. For a moment, she felt like she was entering a castle-one where both sanctuary and danger resided.
“Come on,” Dante murmured, his voice softer than usual. “I’ll show you to your room. You need rest.”
She followed him through the grand entrance, her gaze drifting to the high ceilings, intricate chandeliers, and polished floors that gleamed beneath their footsteps. Everything screamed wealth and power, yet there was an underlying emptiness in the mansion’s grandeur.
They moved through the quiet hallways, and she took it all in, trying to ignore the uncertainty gnawing at her. At last, Dante stopped in front of a door.
“This is where you’ll be staying,” he said, pushing open the door to reveal a lavishly decorated room. The bed was enormous, adorned with soft silk sheets and velvet pillows, and the large windows were draped with heavy curtains that spilled onto the floor.
“Thank you,” she managed, her voice a bit shaky. She tried to steady her breathing as she walked into the room. She’d never seen a place so beautiful and intimidating all at once. She heard Dante’s footsteps pause behind her.
“Get some rest,” he said, his tone holding a finality to it. “You’ll need it.”
She turned to say something, but he was already at the door, watching her with that unreadable gaze. “Dante,” she started, her voice softer than she intended. “Why… Why are you doing all this?”
For a moment, his face softened, as if he was letting down his guard, but just as quickly, the familiar hardness returned. “You’re mine now, Isla,” he replied. “And I take care of what’s mine.”
With that, he left, the door clicking shut behind him.
Isla stood there, the silence in the room pressing down on her. She took a shaky breath, trying to process everything. There was a small thrill at the thought of belonging to him, yet she reminded herself that she was here because she had no choice. It was all so confusing, his possessiveness and her growing attraction to him. It made her heart pound in a way that was both exhilarating and frightening.
After freshening up, she explored the room a bit, running her fingers over the rich fabrics and fine details. The luxury of the room clashed with the emptiness she felt inside, a reminder that, despite everything, she was still trapped.
But her curiosity got the better of her. She stepped out of her room, deciding to explore the mansion. The corridors were quiet, but she could hear faint voices down the hall. As she walked through the hallways, she couldn’t help but wonder about Dante’s life here. What kind of person was he, beyond the ruthless exterior he showed the world?
The voices grew louder as she moved closer, and Isla followed them, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. She rounded a corner and stopped in her tracks, her breath catching.
Dante was there, standing near the grand staircase, his figure unmistakable in the dim light. But he wasn’t alone. A woman stood with him, dressed elegantly, with an air of confidence and familiarity that suggested she belonged in this world. Isla’s heart clenched painfully as she saw the woman step closer to Dante, her hand resting on his chest.
Isla wanted to turn and leave, to run back to her room and pretend she hadn’t seen anything, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She watched, frozen, as the woman leaned in, her lips brushing against Dante’s. And he didn’t pull away.
Her heart twisted, a sharp pain slicing through her as she watched Dante kiss the woman back. She couldn’t make out the emotions in his eyes, couldn’t understand why he was letting this happen, but it hurt all the same. It felt like a betrayal, even though she knew she had no right to feel that way. She was nothing more than someone he’d claimed-a possession. And perhaps that was all she would ever be to him.
She backed away, her heart pounding, the ache inside her spreading like wildfire. Trying to stay as silent as possible, she turned and hurried back down the hallway, feeling as if she’d just witnessed something she was never meant to see.
Back in her room, she shut the door, leaning against it as she tried to catch her breath. The image of him with that woman replayed in her mind, each time cutting deeper. She didn’t understand why it affected her so much. She had known from the start that Dante was ruthless, that he wasn’t the kind of man who would be bound by conventional rules. But somehow, seeing him with someone else still felt like a stab to the heart.
She sank onto the edge of the bed, burying her face in her hands. The connection she’d felt with him, the moments they’d shared-it had all felt so real. But now she was left wondering if she’d just been fooling herself.
A knock at her door startled her, and she quickly wiped at her face, trying to hide any trace of her emotions. Taking a deep breath, she stood up and opened the door, only to find herself face-to-face with Dante. His expression was unreadable, his gaze piercing as he studied her.
“Why are you hiding in here?” he asked, his voice low but firm.
Isla forced a small smile, not wanting to show him how much she was hurting. “Just tired,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Dante’s gaze lingered on her, as if he could see straight through her facade. “Is that so?” he murmured, his tone skeptical.
She nodded, her pulse quickening under his scrutiny. “Yes, I… I just need some rest.”
He watched her for a moment longer, and she felt the tension build between them, thick and suffocating. It was as if he was trying to read her thoughts, to understand the pain she was hiding.
Finally, he nodded, though his gaze remained sharp. “Fine,” he said, his tone dismissive. “Get some rest.”
Without another word, he turned and left, leaving her alone once more. The moment he was gone, she let out a shaky breath, the ache in her chest intensifying. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep pretending, how much longer she could stand by and watch him be with someone else.
As she lay down, staring up at the ceiling, a tear slipped down her cheek. She had told herself that she wouldn’t let him break her, but it was already too late. Despite everything, she had started to care for him. And now, she was left with nothing but heartbreak and the knowledge that he would never truly be hers.
The emptiness in the room seemed to close in around her, filling the space where hope had once resided. And as she drifted into a fitful sleep, the image of him with that woman remained etched in her mind, a painful reminder of the harsh reality she had been trying so hard to avoid.