Alexander's POV
I didn't sleep.
I rarely did—but tonight was different.
The house was silent, yet it felt louder than ever. Every hallway, every shadow, every locked door reminded me that there was now a Romano under my roof. My wife. A word that tasted unfamiliar, heavy on my tongue.
Across the hall.
That's where she was.
Veronica Laure Romano.
I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly, forcing my thoughts back into order. Emotions were distractions. Attachments were mistakes. I had been taught that since childhood, beaten into me through discipline and blood.
And yet, when I saw her standing at the altar earlier that day, something had shifted.
She hadn't looked weak.
She had looked… terrified. Controlled. Brave.
That unsettled me more than fear ever could.
I got out of bed before sunrise, dressing in silence. The mirror reflected a man the world feared—sharp jaw, cold eyes, posture carved from command. The Deluca heir. Untouchable.
Good.
That was who I needed to be.
Downstairs, the house was already awake. Servants moved quickly, heads lowered, careful not to draw attention. I noticed how different it was from the Romano estate. There was no warmth here. No laughter.
And then I saw her.
She stood by the large window in the dining room, dressed simply in a pale blue dress, her hair loose down her back. Morning light wrapped around her like it belonged to her. She looked out of place—like a soft thing placed inside a cage of steel.
She turned when she sensed me.
"Good morning," she said.
Her voice was calm. Too calm.
"Morning," I replied, my tone neutral.
She didn't sit until I did. That alone told me she was observant. Careful. Smart.
Breakfast was served in silence. I noticed the way servants reacted to her—hesitant, unsure how to treat her. She noticed too. I saw it in her eyes.
"This place is very… quiet," she said gently.
"It's efficient," I corrected.
Her lips pressed together, as if holding back something she wanted to say. Then she nodded. "I see."
No argument. No complaints.
Interesting.
"You should understand something," I said after a moment. "My world is not yours. There are rules. Boundaries."
She met my gaze without flinching. "I don't intend to change your world."
That answer caught me off guard.
"I only intend to survive it," she added softly.
Something tightened in my chest.
"You will be safe here," I said. "As long as you follow my instructions."
Her brow furrowed slightly. "And if I don't?"
The question was quiet—but brave.
I leaned back in my chair, studying her. Most people avoided my eyes. She held mine, even though I could see the fear beneath her composure.
"Then you'll learn why people fear the Delucas," I said coldly.
She swallowed.
But she didn't look away.
"I'm not here to fight you, Alexander," she said. "I didn't choose this either."
Hearing my name from her lips felt wrong. Too personal.
"Then don't make this harder than it has to be," I replied.
She nodded once. "I won't."
She stood, smoothing her dress. "Thank you for breakfast."
After she left, the room felt emptier.
That bothered me.
I told myself it was irritation. That her presence was a disruption I would eliminate with time. That she was just another responsibility I would manage like everything else.
But the truth clawed at me in the silence.
She wasn't afraid of me the way she should be.
And that made her dangerous.
Because a woman who could look at a Deluca without breaking—
Was a woman who could change things.
And I had spent my entire life making sure nothing ever did.