Chapter 3 The Marking
I staggered upright, pressing the back of my hand against my mouth in a futile attempt to erase the memory of my sickness. My heart hammered violently a frantic drum inside my chest, as if it wanted to escape. Silvio lingered in the doorway, his presence heavy, unyielding, impossible to ignore. He didn’t step forward or speak immediately; he simply stood there, observing me with those tempestuous, unsettling eyes, like storms waiting to break.
"The fare at your father's place must have been as lacking as his loyalty," he murmured, his voice a low, rumbling undertone that vibrated through the room. "Or is it the idea of belonging to me that your body finds so abhorrent it’s revolting?"
I flinched instinctively. His gaze was so intense it felt like it could pierce through my skin.
"It’s the smell," I whispered, my voice trembling, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.
His touch was deliberate, warm against my arm, sending a shiver down my spine that I didn’t want to feel. Betrayal ran through me, the way my body responded despite my mind screaming in protest.
"Get used to it, Lisa," he said softly, but the tone carried a sharp edge. "This is your home now." He leaned closer, so close that I could feel his breath, scented with mint and something darker, more intoxicating. "Clean yourself up. We’re going out. The Bertoli family is throwing a gala tonight. I want everyone to witness the fate of my enemies’ legacies."
I froze, my stomach twisting.
"You want to show me off?" I spat, trying to mask the terror in my voice with defiance.
"I want to claim you," he corrected, his thumb brushing against my lower lip lightly, dangerously. "Dress to impress. My driver will be here with a gown in ten minutes. Don’t make me wait."
An hour later, I confronted a stranger in the mirror. The gown they had chosen for me clung to every inch of my body. Deep red silk, a color that seemed to devour the light, hugged my curves mercilessly. The neckline plunged in a daring V, daring anyone to look but warning them at the same time. I turned slowly, staring at myself as if the reflection could reassure me I still belonged to me. Instead, it was a costume, a weapon, a mark of possession.
I descended the stairs with trembling legs. Silvio was waiting. He was impeccable, a vision of lethal elegance in a black tuxedo. His eyes darkened as they swept over me, taking in the swell of my breasts, the curve of my hips, and the sharpness of my spine.
"Perfect," he breathed, extending his arm, his voice a low growl that resonated deep in my chest.
The gala was a swirl of masks, glittering jewels, and hushed whispers. Hundreds of eyes seemed to weigh down on me as I followed Silvio, my chest tight with a mix of fear and shame. Every step I took felt measured, like I was moving through a minefield.
"Is that her?" hissed a woman as we passed, her tone dripping with malice. "The Downs girl? I heard her father sold her off, like she was nothing."
I recoiled, instinctively shrinking from the words, but Silvio’s hand on my arm was iron. He halted, pivoting smoothly to face the woman, a high-ranking socialite in the syndicate.
"Common?" His voice was ice. The woman paled instantly. "If you consider the woman beside me common, Sofia, perhaps your vision is as impaired as your husband’s financial records. Apologize. Immediately."
The woman mumbled something incoherent, bowing her head. Silvio didn’t allow her to finish. He pulled me along, his grip possessive and unyielding. I felt it then, the first real glimpse of his influence, the shield he provided, even if it existed partly to protect his reputation rather than me.
"I don’t need you to defend me," I whispered quietly, anger and shame twisting inside me.
"In this world, Lisa, everyone is searching for a weakness," he said, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, sharp and calculating. "If I allow them to insult you, they believe they can insult me."
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came. Across the room, near the balcony, a shadow moved. A man stood there, his figure shrouded in black. His face was mostly hidden, but the line of his jaw, the tilt of his shoulders, were impossible to mistake.
Dante.
Silvio’s brother.
The man from three months ago, whose presence had been an enigma, a shadow in my life, the father of the child I carried now, the one twisting everything inside me into chaos.
He met my gaze. For a heartbeat, his eyes flicked down to my stomach. He knew.
I froze.
"What is it?" Silvio demanded, his voice a whip, sharp and commanding. He followed my stare, but Dante had already melted into the crowd, leaving nothing but the shadow of what had just passed.
"Nothing," I managed, my voice trembling. "I just, need some air."
"Stay close, Lisa," Silvio said, settling his hand on the small of my back, possessive, almost territorial. The touch was heavy, grounding, yet it reminded me how much of me had already been claimed. "The shadows in this city have teeth."
He had no idea.
The shadow I feared most was the one that shared his blood, the one whose eyes had already glimpsed the secret I carried, the secret that could destroy us all.
I swallowed hard, heart hammering, as the glittering crowd swirled around us. The whispers, the masked faces, the hidden daggers in smiles, they were all a reminder that this world was a gilded cage, and I was its most dangerous secret.
I wanted to run, to vanish into the night, but Silvio’s presence was a tether I could not sever. His eyes bore into mine, unrelenting, claiming, and yet, beneath the cold, I saw sparks of something else, curiosity, an interest that was more dangerous than anger or cruelty.
Every step I took through the gala felt like a surrender, yet I moved, bound by fear, by necessity, by the impossible weight of what I carried within me.
Dante’s shadow still haunted the corners of my mind, a reminder that the enemy wasn’t only outside. The danger was closer, more intimate, more devastating.
And Silvio, my captor, my protector, my relentless presence, didn’t yet understand how fragile, and how lethal, the secret I carried could be.