Chapter 31 Chapter 31

Chapter 31 Chapter 31
Vanessa

The dress felt like a trap.

Silk clung to my skin in a way that made me hyper-aware of every breath I took, every movement I made. It wasn’t mine. Nothing in this house ever felt like mine.

“Smile,” Emma’s voice drifted from behind me.

I turned slowly.

She stood near the mirror, adjusting her own appearance like she was preparing for a coronation instead of a Mafia gathering. Perfect curls. Perfect makeup. Perfect expression.

Fake.

Always fake.

“I don’t smile on command,” I said flatly.

Emma chuckled softly. “You might want to tonight. Alaric’s business partners will be there.”

My jaw tightened at his name.

“Why am I even going?”

“Because you’re his wife,” she replied simply.

The word tasted wrong.

Wife.

It didn’t feel like marriage.

It felt like branding.

A knock interrupted us before I could respond.

The door opened.

And the air shifted.

Alaric Moretti stepped in.

Everything about him silenced the room.

Dark suit. Controlled posture. Eyes like something carved from obsidian. He didn’t look at Emma first.

He looked at me.

That alone made my pulse betray me.

His gaze dropped briefly.

My dress.

Then my face.

Nothing softened.

Nothing changed.

“You’re ready,” he said.

Not a compliment.

A statement.

Emma immediately moved closer to him, slipping into his space like she belonged there.

“I told her to be presentable,” she said lightly.

Alaric didn’t look at her.

“Good.”

One word.

Enough.

My stomach twisted.

I hated that I noticed the difference.

Emma smiled like she hadn’t been dismissed.

Like she was used to it.

“Shall we?” she asked.

Alaric nodded once.

Then turned slightly toward me.

“Stay close,” he said.

I scoffed.

“I’m not a child.”

His eyes sharpened.

“You’re not safe there.”

That shut me up more than I liked.

We left.

The venue was worse than I expected.

Luxury. Power. Wealth dressed up as celebration.

Men in expensive suits. Women draped in diamonds like currency. Guards at every corner pretending they weren’t dangerous.

This wasn’t a party.

It was a hierarchy.

And I was at the bottom of it.

Alaric entered first.

And everything reacted to him.

Heads turned.

Voices lowered.

Even laughter faded.

King.

That was what he was.

Not just feared.

Obeyed.

Emma stayed glued to his side immediately.

I followed slightly behind.

Like an accessory.

Not a wife.

A detail.

A warning.

“Alaric Moretti,” a man greeted, stepping forward. “It’s been a while.”

Alaric shook his hand.

Controlled.

Measured.

Cold.

Then more people approached.

Names I didn’t care about.

Deals I didn’t understand.

Power I didn’t want.

So I drifted.

Just slightly.

A mistake.

“Vanessa, right?”

A voice behind me.

I turned.

A man stood there—mid-30s, well-dressed, calm smile.

Not threatening.

Not arrogant.

Just… interested.

“I’m Adrian,” he said. “Business associate.”

I nodded politely.

“Nice to meet you.”

His gaze lingered.

Too long.

“You don’t look like you belong in a place like this,” he said.

A small laugh escaped me.

“That might be the first honest thing I’ve heard tonight.”

He smiled more.

“I mean it as a compliment.”

Before I could respond—

The air changed.

Again.

I felt it before I saw him.

Alaric.

Behind me.

Close.

Too close.

“Adrian.”

His voice cut through the space like a blade.

The man straightened instantly.

“Alaric.”

Silence.

Heavy.

Measured.

Dangerous.

I turned slightly.

Alaric’s eyes were locked on Adrian.

Not friendly.

Not neutral.

Possessive.

My breath caught when I realized—

It wasn’t anger.

It was something older.

Something deeper.

His wolf.

“I didn’t realize you were entertaining guests,” Alaric said.

The words were calm.

But the pressure underneath them was not.

Adrian cleared his throat.

“I was just speaking with your wife.”

A beat.

That word.

Wife.

Something snapped.

Not loud.

Not visible.

But I felt it.

Alaric stepped closer.

One step.

That was all it took.

The temperature of the room changed.

“Careful,” Alaric said quietly.

Adrian swallowed.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know exactly what you meant.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

I should have stepped away.

I didn’t.

Because something about this moment—

Something about him—

Held me still.

Emma appeared beside Alaric.

Of course she did.

Her hand slid lightly against his arm.

“Alaric, it’s fine,” she said softly. “He was just being polite.”

Her voice was careful.

Controlled.

Claiming.

I saw it then.

She wasn’t calming him.

She was anchoring him.

But it wasn’t enough.

Because Alaric’s eyes didn’t move from Adrian.

Not even when Emma touched him.

That should have meant something.

But it didn’t.

Not tonight.

“Leave,” Alaric said finally.

Adrian didn’t hesitate.

He left.

Fast.

Gone.

I exhaled slowly.

Only then did I realize I had been holding my breath.

I turned to Alaric.

“Was that necessary?”

His gaze snapped to me.

Something dangerous flickered there.

“You think that was about him?”

I frowned.

“What else would it be about?”

Silence.

Then he stepped closer.

Too close.

My back pressed lightly against a pillar without me realizing.

His voice lowered.

“You stand too close to men you don’t know.”

I scoffed.

“You’re not my father.”

A pause.

Then—

“I’m not trying to be.”

The air shifted again.

Something inside him was fighting.

Hard.

I could see it now.

In the way his jaw tightened.

In the way his hands flexed slightly at his sides.

Control.

Struggle.

His wolf.

“Alaric—”

I stopped.

Because his eyes changed.

Just for a second.

Not human.

Not fully.

Something primal.

Something claiming.

“You don’t understand what you do to me,” he said quietly.

My heart stuttered.

“What?”

A step closer.

Now there was no space.

Only him.

Only heat.

Only pressure.

“You don’t get to stand there,” he continued lowly, “and let other men look at you like that.”

My breath hitched.

“I didn’t do anything.”

That was the wrong answer.

I felt it instantly.

His hand lifted slightly.

Stopped.

Controlled himself.

Barely.

“You belong here,” he said instead.

My throat tightened.

“I don’t belong to anyone.”

That did it.

The restraint cracked.

Not broken.

But bending.

Dangerously.

His voice dropped even further.

“You were marked in my house.”

My pulse spiked.

“That doesn’t mean—”

“It means enough.”

Silence.

The world around us faded.

Music.

Voices.

Glass.

Gone.

Just him.

Just me.

Just something shifting between us that neither of us was ready to name.

Emma’s presence flickered at the edge of my vision.

Watching.

Waiting.

Calculating.

And for the first time—

I realized something terrifying.

This wasn’t just jealousy.

This was war.

And I had just become the trigger.