Chapter 112: You’re my fiancée, after all
Glanna’s POV
The morning light filtered through the bathroom window as I stood before the mirror, my reflection staring back at me with exhausted eyes. I lifted a strand of my hair, my fingers tracing the dried smears still clinging to the ends. Dante’s blood from last night.
I had not showered. I had been too tired, too overwhelmed by everything that had happened.
My mind drifted back to the moment he practically flew across the room, grabbed my wrist, and pressed his palm over mine. The knife sliced across his skin, and blood dripped onto the floor. He did not react to the pain. He only cared about stopping me. He risked getting hurt to keep me from making a catastrophic mistake. To save me from myself.
“I vow to you, Glanna, I will protect you with everything in me. My blood. My strength. My last breath if I have to.”
His words echoed in my memory, spoken with a conviction so fierce it settled deep in my bones. I remembered the fire in his eyes, the raw honesty in his voice when he guided my hand to his chest so I could feel his heartbeat. He kept talking until my breathing slowed, until I could see clearly again.
He told me no one was worth my life. No betrayal, no grief, no anger should ever push me that far. Hearing it from him, a man who had every reason to hate me, made the truth hit harder. He was right.
No one was worth that much sacrifice.
Not even the person who broke me.
Then he offered the deal, five years of marriage and then complete freedom. The thing I had wanted since the day I met him. The thing I had been willing to risk everything for. But now that it was finally within reach, my chest ached at the thought of leaving him.
Last night, I had seen a side of Dante I never knew existed. Vulnerable. Honest. Raw in a way I never imagined the ruthless mafia king could be.
And I believed him now. I believed he felt some form of affection for me that went beyond revenge and strategy. Otherwise he would not have saved me. The ultimate revenge would have been my death, a life for the life of his wife.
My fingers pressed against my chest, splayed over my racing heart.
If I was being honest, I had feelings for him too, no matter how hard I tried to fight them. Thoughts of him filled my mind all day. It was a terrifying need, a pull that only grew stronger every time he looked at me as if I mattered. I was tired of resisting. A part of me longed to stop fighting, to fall for once in my life.
But then reality returned like a cold splash.
It is a marriage of alliance, I reminded myself. You cannot trust him. Do not fall in love with him. He is ruthless. He is using you to reach your father. My freedom for my father’s.
Guilt washed over him. He was still my father, despite everything. Despite the distance, despite the coldness, despite the way he had always treated me more like a possession than a daughter.
But if the things I had heard about him were true, the murders, the trafficking, the innocent lives destroyed, then was he even worthy of my loyalty?
The question made my head hurt.
Then Dante was justified in taking his revenge, was he not? And this marriage, this alliance, was the only way to survive any of it.
That was what I told myself. That was what I kept repeating as I tried to quiet the war raging inside me.
My hands reached for the hem of my dress. I pulled it over my head and let it pool around my feet. I stepped out of it and into the shower and turned on the hot water, letting the spray wash over my tired body.
I squeezed shampoo into my palm and massagedy scalp until the dried streaks of Dante’s blood loosened. I rinsed the
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Chapter 112 Yours my fiancée, after all
+25 Bonus
shampoo out and added conditioner, working my fingers through the tangles. When my hair was clean, I grabbed the body wash and began scrubbing my skin, humming under my breath.
Then I felt a dark presence behind me, like I was not alone.
I spun around, my heart jumping, and there he was. Dante, leaning against the doorframe with that infuriating look on his face.
“Do not let me stop you,” he drawled. His gaze dragged down the length of my naked, water–slicked body in a slow, deliberate sweep. “I was enjoying the sight.”
Heat rushed into my cheeks as I lunged for the handle and shut off the water. Droplets slid down my skin as I crossed my arms over my chest and backed against the glass wall. “You cannot be in here.”
He pushed off the doorframe and moved closer with that arrogant, controlled grace. “Why not?”
“Because…”
He cut me off. “You do realize I have seen every inch of your body already.” He took another step, his eyes glittering with dark amusement. “So why hide now?”
“This is different,” I fired back, lifting my chin even as water dripped from my lashes. “This is my personal shower time. I would appreciate some privacy.”
He made a soft sound that was almost a laugh, pure arrogance wrapped in silk. “Privacy? You are mine now. There cannot be any privacy between us. You cannot hide from me.”
“Fiancée,” I reminded, though I knew it didn’t make a difference to him.
“In a few days you will be my wife,” he replied, his gaze trailing slowly over my body, lingering, claiming. “So all of this is already mine to see.”
My breath hitched, but I forced the words out even though they shook. “But today I am not. So please leave.”
Dante shrugged, unbothered. “I am afraid I have an emergency meeting to get to,” he said, already undoing the first button of his shirt. “And I need a shower. Right now.”
Anger flared through me. I knew he was lying. Knew he was doing this just to push me, to get under my skin. “There are over ten
bathrooms in this house.”
“But I choose this one,” he replied as his shirt slid off his shoulders and hit the floor. “The one where my fiancée is taking a shower.”
Frustration mixed with the heat ignited by his dark look. I watched through the steamed glass as he stripped, each piece of clothing falling away until he stood before me completely naked.
He was magnificent.
Tall, powerful, built with muscle formed from discipline and danger. His shoulders were broad, his chest carved in hard planes that the water would worship.
His abs were perfectly defined, each ridge leading down to that deep V that disappeared between his legs.
It was the first time I had seen him in full light. He preferred the dark. But here, in the bright bathroom, I could see everything. His skin was tan and smooth, and there, along his ribs beneath his left arm, was a faint scar I had never noticed before. It was pale, barely visible, no wonder I had missed it in the darkness we usually shared.
And his cock hung heavy between his thighs, already beginning to harden as he closed the remaining distance.
