Chapter 3 - The Snake at the Table
My breath hitched in my throat. I looked up at him, my eyes wide with shock. “What did you say?”
Dante pulled back slightly, his silver eyes flashing with a cold, calculated intelligence. He tied the yellow silk string back around the leather folder and slipped it back inside his suit jacket.
“You think I don't know who Matteo and Isabella Bellini really are?” Dante asked, a dark chuckle escaping his chest. “You think I fell in love with a shallow, cruel woman who humiliates my staff for fun?”
“Then why are you marrying her?!” I blurted out, unable to hide the sudden surge of emotion in my voice. “Why announce an engagement with the family that destroyed mine?!”
Dante stared at me for a long, heavy moment. His expression softened, his gaze dropping to my lips before rising back to meet my eyes.
“Because the Bellini family controls the entire eastern shipping grid,” Dante explained calmly. “For six years, they’ve operated in the shadows, using puppet families to do their dirty work. The only way to drag their entire network into the light—the only way to destroy them completely without starting an all-out street war that would kill hundreds of innocent people—was to bring them inside my walls.”
He reached out, his hand wrapping gently around my wrist once again, pulling me an inch closer.
“Tonight was supposed to be their final move,” Dante whispered. “Matteo brought in a military-grade acoustic weapon disguised as high-end audio gear. They knew about my old military head injury from my time in Europe. They wanted to induce a stroke, make my death look like a natural brain hemorrhage during the party, and have Isabella claim the Rossi empire as my grieving widow.”
The horrific puzzle pieces instantly clicked into place in my mind. The sudden bass frequencies... the lack of loyal guards... Matteo standing by the sound console with a cruel smile...
“They almost succeeded,” I whispered, shuddering at the thought. “If I hadn't pulled the main disconnect—”
“If you hadn't pulled that switch,” Dante interrupted softly, his gaze locking onto mine with intense, unwavering gratitude, “I would be dead on the ballroom floor right now. You saved my life, Elena.”
“My name is Clara,” I corrected quickly, panic flaring in my chest. “I am Clara Bennett. A maid.”
“You can call yourself whatever name keeps you safe, little bird,” Dante murmured, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. “But you are not resigning. Not tonight. Not ever.”
“Dante, please,” I begged, pulling my hand back. “If Matteo realizes I was the one who pulled the power, he’ll investigate me. If he connects me to the Vance family—”
“He won't,” Dante swore, his voice turning to steel. “Because as of five minutes ago, the power outage is being blamed on a faulty generator line. And you... are no longer working as a maid in this house.”
Before I could ask what he meant, the heavy steel door of the electrical room rattled again. This time, three sharp, distinct knocks echoed through the wood—a secret code.
Dante reached past me and unlocked the deadbolt, swinging the door open.
Standing in the hallway was Marcus—Dante’s chief of security, the man I thought had abandoned his post. His dark suit was stained with dirt, and he was holding a silenced pistol at his side.
“The perimeter is secured, Don Rossi,” Marcus reported in a low, rapid tone. “We intercepted Matteo’s three snipers on the roof. They’ve been neutralized quietly. The guests upstairs are being told the event is paused due to an electrical malfunction.”
Marcus looked at me, giving me a respectful, silent nod—a gesture he had never shown to a simple house maid.
“Is everything ready in the east wing, Marcus?” Dante asked.
“Yes, Don Rossi. The suite has been prepared. Her belongings have already been moved from the staff quarters.”
I stared between the two men in absolute disbelief. “What suite? What are you talking about?!”
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Dante turned to me, a faint, devastatingly handsome smirk gracing his lips. He held out his broad, tattooed hand toward me.
“The Bellinis thought they were playing a game of chess tonight,” Dante said softly. “It’s time we flip the board. Step out of the uniform, Clara. Tonight, you sit at my table.”
