Elira's POV

The morning sunlight slipped through the tall windows of the Moretti estate, painting golden streaks across the marble floor. I stood in the kitchen, humming softly to myself as I prepared coffee. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to pretend — pretend that this life was normal, that I was simply a wife in a quiet home, not the wife of Dante Moretti, the man whose name even the bravest men whisper in fear.

I smiled faintly as I stirred sugar into my cup. The warmth of the coffee, the hush of the morning, the sounds of the birds outside — it almost felt peaceful. Just almost.

"Good morning, little dove," Dante's heavy voice echoed through the kitchen, making me look up at him.

His voice was like silk wrapped around steel. I stiffened, nearly dropping the spoon, as Dante's tall figure appeared in the doorway. He was still wearing the dark shirt from last night, sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong, tattooed forearms, a trace of stubble shadowing his sharp jawline. His black eyes — those endless, dangerous eyes — were completely fixed on me.

I smiled at him, feeling cherished because of his constant care that never showed me his cruel side, and replied, "Good morning."

He crossed the room in long, deliberate strides. My pulse quickened with every step. Dante Moretti was handsome in a way that could steal the breath from your lungs; he was every woman’s dream, but he was my reality — my husband. Yet, there was something in him, something sharp and consuming, that terrified me.

Before I could retreat, his hand slid around my waist, pulling me back against his chest.

"You're smiling," he murmured, his lips brushing against my neck. "I like it when you smile l... though I can't help but think if it's for me."

I swallowed hard, heat rushing up my cheeks. "It's just morning. That's all."

"Mmm.' He chuckled, his chuckle vibrated against my skin, low and dangerous. He kissed the curve of my shoulder, then my jaw, below my ear, each touch sending shivers down my spine that made me weak in my knees. He slowly turned me around facing him.

"I want it to always be for me, Elira," he whispered against my lips before capturing them in slow lingering kiss. His lips moved over mine with a gentleness that contradicted everything he was. In that moment, I melted into his arms, in his kiss, forgetting that he could be the monster everyone fears–including me.

But then his grip on my waist tightened, firm, unyielding, almost bruising. His kiss deepened, no longer tender but claiming. When he finally pulled back, both of us were breathless. His gaze locked with mine, dark and burning.

"You're mine," he said softly, as if it were the simplest truth in the world. "And nothing, Elira... nothing will ever take you away from me."

My chest tightened with fear curling like ice inside my veins. His words should have sounded like love, but they felt like chains. And as he pressed another kiss to my forehead, I couldn't stop the thought that haunted me every time he touched me or said words like these–belonging to Dante Moretti.

Suddenly the bell rang breaking the moment. The sudden chime of the doorbell startled me, its noise cutting through the quiet morning. Dante's hand slid from my waist, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Go see who it is," he murmured, his voice soft but carrying that edge of command I could never disobey.

I nodded quickly and walked towards the front door, my palms sweating though I couldn't explain why. Pulling the door open, I was met with the sight of a man I had never seen before. He wore a uniform of a delivery service, a neat package in his hands.

"Mrs. Moretti?" he asked politely.

"Yes," I replied, forcing a small smile as I reached for the parcel. "Thank you."

He nodded once, his gaze dropping respectfully, and turned away. I lingered for only a second, offering that polite smile in return.

But behind me, I felt it. A presence. Burning eyes. Dante stood down the hall, his face unreadable, but the tension in his jaw told me everything. My heart skipped, dread pooling in my stomach.

I closed the door quietly, placing the parcel on table and went to him "it was just a delivery."

He abruptly pulled me into his embrace, burying his face in my neck. "Delivery or delivery guy?" he asked nuzzling against my neck and inhaling my scent.

"it... It was just the delivery, nothing more." I said placing my hands on his chest without pushing him away.

"Okay," he said pulling back. "I've to go to work now. Don't go anywhere."

Saying that he went out of the mansion, I heard his Mafia convoy leaving the estate but deep down I knew that there was a storm burning in his mind. Something dangerous is plotting in his evil mind.

****

In the Evening around 6 PM, the evening fell heavy. Shadows stretched long across the marble floors, and the house was quiet—too quiet. I sat in the living room, my chest tight, waiting for Dante to come home. When he finally did, the silence shattered. Along with him, his two men dragged someone in between them. My Blood froze.

It was the deliveryman. His face swollen, bloodied, his lips split. He struggled to breathe, each step stumbling as they forced him forward.

"No..." my voice came out as a broken whisper. I stood up from the couch going to Dante, my heart beating faster. "Dante, what—what are you doing?"

"Nothing... Just teaching my wife a proper lesson." He said with a terrifying smile. Dante's Dark eyes never left mine as he pulled out his gun from the holster. He didn't look at the man. Not even once. His gaze was locked onto mine.

"You smiled at him," Dante said softly, almost tenderly. "You let him look at you."

My hands shook violently. "It was nothing! He was just—just delivering a package—"

**Bang**

The gunshot rang through the room, deafening. The man crumpled to the ground lifeless, even before I could finish my sentence.

Dante immediately pulled my trembling form into his arms hugging me and nuzzling his face in the crook of my neck as if he didn't just killed a man.

"Don't ever smile for another man again," he whispered pulling back just enough to press a soft kiss at my trembling lips. "Your smile belongs only to me."

Tears blurred my vision, but I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. His kiss was soft, but the blood on the blood on the floor reminded me—this was love with no escape.

But my mind was consumed by only one thought. 'I had to escape this blood pool of hell.'