The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of the Romano mansion. Elena followed Arianna into the playroom, her nerves still raw from her first encounter with Dante.
The room was massive—shelves filled with dolls, stuffed animals, and books. But despite all the toys, Elena noticed something missing: joy. Arianna's smile seemed cautious, like it had been stolen too many times before.
"Do you like stories?" Elena asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor.
Arianna's eyes lit up. "I love stories, but Papa doesn't read them. He's always… busy."
Elena's heart tugged. She picked a fairytale from the shelf and began to read, using silly voices that made Arianna burst into giggles. For the first time, the room felt alive.
Halfway through the story, Arianna climbed into Elena's lap, hugging her tightly.
"You're my favorite already," she whispered.
Elena smiled, her chest warm. But the moment shattered when she felt eyes on her. She turned. Dante stood at the doorway, arms crossed, watching.
His expression was unreadable.
"Follow me," he said curtly.
Elena carefully set Arianna down and followed Dante into his office, her palms sweaty. The heavy door shut behind them.
"You seem comfortable here already," Dante said, pouring himself a drink.
"I'm just trying to do my job, sir," Elena replied softly.
He stepped closer, his gaze sharp. "Do you know who I am, Elena Russo?"
Her throat tightened. Of course she knew. Every whisper in the city carried his name.
"Yes… sir."
"Then you should know trust is not something I give easily. My daughter is my only weakness. If you betray that—" he leaned in, his voice low and dangerous— "I will end you."
Elena's breath caught, but she forced herself not to flinch. "I would never hurt her."
Dante studied her, his jaw tight. He liked her answer—but words were cheap.
Suddenly, he tossed a small leather pouch onto the desk. It spilled open, revealing stacks of money.
"Take it," he said coldly. "Leave this house. Never come back. That's more than you'll make in a year."
Elena froze. Her heart pounded. If she took the money, she'd be safe. Free. But when she pictured Arianna's hopeful eyes, she shook her head firmly.
"No," she whispered. "I won't abandon her."
For the first time, Dante's mask cracked. His lips curved—not into his usual cold smirk, but something dangerously close to respect.
"You're either very brave… or very stupid," he muttered, stepping back.
The door burst open suddenly, and Arianna rushed in, clinging to Elena's hand.
"Papa, don't scare her away!" she pouted.
Dante's eyes flickered between his daughter's plea and Elena's defiance. Something stirred inside him, something he hadn't felt in years—doubt.
Maybe… just maybe… this woman was different.