My answer is nothing but a whisper, an echo of uncertainty, but I said it, nonetheless.
“Fantastic,” he spits out before turning and stomping toward the door. “You have two minutes to grab everything you want to take with you, even though I’d urge you not to since everything here isn’t worth burning in my bedroom’s fireplace.”
“Wait, I’m going with you now?”
“Yes, Miss Dinali. Now.” I watch him walk out the door.
“Jesus,” I mutter, placing a sweaty palm on my forehead. “What is happening right now?”
“Two minutes,” I hear him call from down the hall, and I rush to my bedroom.
Reaching underneath my bed, I pull out the only thing I have close to a suitcase, a faded yellow backpack I bought myself the first time I was hellbent on packing my shit and leaving my mom behind. So many nights, I stood with one foot out of the door, wanting nothing more than to leave her in this apartment to rot, but I never could. No matter how much I hated my life with her in it, I couldn’t get myself to walk away. Something kept pulling me back like a cord that refused to be severed.
Two minutes is more than enough time to pack my things since I don’t have much. A pair of jeans, two shirts, underwear, and boy shorts with a tank top to sleep in. Count with it the gray hoody, black leggings, and sneakers I just pulled on; that’s the extent of my wardrobe.
I manage to stuff half of my toiletries in my handbag and slip two hair scrunchies around my wrists. I try to ignore the nerves that tighten around my stomach with each passing minute and rummage through the closet and every cabinet just in case there’s something else I need to take with me—wherever I’m going.
Lastly, I open my bedside table and pick up the birth control pills. I’ve been on it ever since the night I almost lost my soul, the night I thought looking pretty in a dress would make me happy. Around here, getting raped and ending up pregnant is something you’d hear about every goddamn week, which is why I decided to protect myself as much as I possibly could.
I slip it into my handbag and take one final glance around the room. I have no idea if I’ll be coming back, yet I don’t care because I won’t miss this place at all—not even a little bit. Hopefully, walking out that door with the idea that I’m never coming back here will help me leave the past between these walls.
Grabbing my backpack and handbag, I walk up to the front door, adrenaline and fear crashing through my veins.
Maximo is waiting for me in the hall. The collar of his leather jacket is pulled up, his white shirt pristine and clean. “Are you packed?”
I nod and swallow hard as my heart hammers against my ribs. It’s not too late. There’s still time for me to change my mind. If I do, I’d just return to my pathetic life living in this apartment and serving coffee to low-life perverts who have nothing better to do than stare at my ass.
“We don’t have all day,” he warns, and I lick my dry lips before walking out the door. I’m so nervous I can barely breathe as I look back into the apartment one final time. But no matter how scared I am of the unknown, I’m more afraid of staying and never leaving.
I close the door behind me, following Maximo down the stairs and out of the apartment building. The cold air stings my cheeks, and I pull the zipper of my hoodie up even further.
Everyone on the street stares at us. It’s not every day you see an expensive car parked outside of a building that’s one winter storm away from collapsing.
Maximo opens the back passenger door, and I hesitate for a second, holding my breath and hearing my mother’s voice so clearly.
“You’ll never escape this shitty life. It’s all you deserve.”
The rich scent of leather instantly envelops me as I get into the car. Alexius scrolls his thumb across his phone’s screen before slipping it back into his jacket. The remaining light of the sunset falls on his face, enhancing his flawless features, his skin touched with a gentle golden complexion.
He glances in my direction, and even though I’m scared, the strength of his presence almost suffocating, I like the way he looks at me as if he notices every tiny detail of my features.
“Is that your entire life in one little backpack?” His eyes fall to the bag I’m clutching against my chest, and my cheeks burn with embarrassment. A man like him who’s grown up in the lap of luxury would never know the feeling of your entire life being summed up with one word. Nothing.
“As you said, nothing in that apartment is even worth burning.” I turn my gaze out the window, but I’m too nervous to notice anything, my mind filled with thoughts of the unknown. “While we’re driving, should we not discuss some details?”
“What details?” His reply is short, as if my question annoyed him.
I straighten in my seat and look at him. “Will your family not find it odd that we know nothing of each other?”
“You mean that you know nothing about me?”
“Yeah. That,” I reply, deadpan.
Alexius pulls out his phone again, and it’s vibrating in his hand as the screen flashes, but he swipes and declines the call. “My family is not ignorant, Leandra. They know this will not be a traditional marriage.”
“What is it, exactly?”
“None of your concern. Just keep your end of the bargain by acting your part when and how I tell you to.” There’s a low thrum of authority in his voice, laced with the sharp edge of something wicked. Sinister. Cold.
Chills ripple across my skin, my heels nervously digging into the beige carpet of the car floor.
“Do not make the mistake of forming any expectations when it comes to our agreement. We will be married by law only. We will not spend time together other than at social engagements where we’ll be expected to be seen together. We will not sit around a dinner table and ask each other how our day was or share our motherfucking hopes and dreams. This—” he gestures between us “—is an arrangement and nothing more. I will owe you nothing as a husband, just like won’t owe me anything as a wife. Do you understand that?”
Trepidation spreads through my veins, his eyes burning with determination, glittering with deep shades of azure, like a serpent about to strike. It makes me realize the gravity of the situation, and for a second, I fear I’ve made a mistake by saying yes. I know nothing of this man, what drives him, or what he’s capable of. All I know is there’s a coldness to him, something sinful and corrupt that makes me think I should run in the other direction, yet I find myself drawn to him in spite of it.
“I understand. Clearly.”
“Good. I don’t have time for any misunderstandings.”
“No misunderstanding here,” I mutter and look out the window. No matter how hard I try to remove my thoughts from being in the back of this car with Alexius, I can’t. I’m scared. Nervous. Uncertain. But it’s no different from how I felt before Alexius gave me that envelope. The only difference is, before, I feared the future—uncertain whether I’d have one or not. Now, I’m nervous about him and how the next six months will play out.
After driving in complete silence and forcing myself not to look in his direction the entire time, the car slows in front of large black iron gates.
My stomach flips, and I clutch the door handle on the sidebar tighter.
“Welcome to Capitoline Estate.” There’s a thrum of pride in his tone.
“Capitoline? That’s beautiful.”
“My father named the estate after the legend of the she-wolf who saved the twin brothers, Romulus and Remus.”
“Who are they?”
“The mythical founders of Rome.” His words are clipped, and I catch the hint that he’s not in the mood to elaborate on the story, so I look back out the window.
Trees line up on either side of the driveway, disappearing sunrays gently easing through the leaves and branches before revealing lush lawns and landscaping. But it’s only when the building comes into view that I stop breathing, staring at the two-story mansion with antique pearl limestone walls, high windows, and two pillars framing the stairs that lead up to the expansive front door.
The car stops, and I’m still gawking at my surroundings when my door is opened by a man dressed in a pristine suit, and I thank him with a smile as I get out, clutching my bag tight against my chest. The tall mansion has me craning my neck as I look up at the second-floor windows. I’ve only seen houses like these in magazines and TV shows, and as I walk up the stairs, following Alexius inside, I’m enthralled with the beauty and wealth that clings to every inch of the house.
My sneakers barely make a sound on the lacquered floors as I step into the two-story foyer, lights from the crystal chandelier dancing across the circular rotunda. The beige walls adorned with exquisite gold-framed paintings and the subtle lighting that touches every corner create a serene atmosphere with the subtle scent of blooming flowers that embraces you. It’s not at all as I imagined it, not nearly as dark and gloomy as the stories I’ve heard of the Dark Sovereign.
Still staring up at the high ceilings, I walk right into Alexius when he stops in front of the dual staircase.
“Sorry,” I whisper awkwardly, and he merely glares at me over his shoulder. The man is a mountain of muscle and misery, and I see the edge of a tattoo that reaches from under his collar up the back of his neck. It makes me wonder what ink he hides under the suit he wears.
“Mira,” Alexius calls before looking at his wristwatch. “Maximo, why does your sister always think that when I say six o’clock, I actually mean six-fifteen?”
“What can I say?” Maximo smirks. “The girl is a menace.”
“Oh, my God, I’m right here.” A woman’s voice reaches from the top of the stairs, followed by clicking heels.
“Leandra, meet Mirabella.” Alexius’ tone is flat and unamused. “The girl who owns an entire collection of Cartier watches yet doesn’t use any of them.”
“Relax, Alexius. Why do I need a watch to remind me of the time when you’re so painfully punctual with a voice that carries all the way to the back of the house?”
I suppress a snicker as Mira walks down the stairs, thinking I like her already.
Her warm blonde hair is draped over one shoulder, her crimson lips the same shade as her striking red coat, which is a bold contrast to her pale white skin. She’s stunning, and the smile she sends my way complements her delicate beauty.
“Hi, Leandra. Welcome to Capitoline.”
“Thank you.” Taken by surprise, I stiffen as she leans in for a hug.
“Now, let me show you to your room, and then we’ll have dinner.” She glances at Alexius with a mischievous grin. “I was explicitly told to get you fed since you planned on having dry noodles for supper.”
“Jesus, Mira,” Alexius blurts, and I catch a glimpse of the glare Maximo shoots in her direction.
“Would you guys relax?” Mira places her arm around my shoulders and guides me toward the stairs. “You’re always so uptight. God.” She leans in closer and whispers, “The other brothers are way more fun.”
“Leandra,” Alexius calls, and I turn to face him. “Try not to talk too much.”
What the fuck does that mean?
“Go away, Alexius,” Mira groans.
With a half-smile, I glance at her. “I think I like you already.” Both of us snicker, and it sounds like Maximo who utters a string of curses behind us.
“One thing you need to learn real fast when it comes to the men in this house is never to let them know just how much they intimidate you.”
“You don’t seem intimidated by Alexius at all.”
She pats my shoulder. “I’ve had years of practice.”
I frown. “So, he does intimidate you?”
“Of course, he does. He’s Alexius Del Rossa. I’m brave, not stupid. Now, I thought it would be a good idea to give you the bedroom next to mine.” She shrugs. “Until you and Alexius are married, of course. His room is at the end of the hall, farthest from here.”
Ice shatters inside my bones. “Alexius and I will be sharing a bedroom?”
“After the wedding, yes.”
I think she notices the penny that just dropped and almost knocked me off my feet, and she quickly adds, “But let’s not focus on that right now. Let’s get you settled in with a glass of wine…or six. You’re old enough to drink, right?”
“No, I’m—”
“Great, so am I.”
I stifle a laugh, loving the energy that emanates from her, her smile radiant and joyful. The difference between her and Alexius was like night and day.
She opens the door, and I’m stunned at what I see. A bedroom twice the size of my entire shitty apartment. Everything is different shades of white and beige with gold trimmings between. The open space holds more than the conventional bedroom furniture. The upholstered headboard boasts shiny brass edges, and the oversized comforter features textured jacquard-woven ivory.
“Oh, my God.” My jaw almost hits the floor as I step inside, my gaze cutting across the room, admiring the sheer elegance of it all.
“I figured you’d be a little overwhelmed, and luckily this bedroom is more of a muted hue for Italian décor.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it.” She gives me a warm smile. “I’m not going to hover. I’ll let you get settled in. Oh, and I arranged for you and me to have dinner here since I wasn’t sure whether you’d be comfortable sitting at a dinner table with strangers gawking at you on your first night here.”
A sigh of relief rolls from my lips. “Thank you. I don’t know what else to say, but…thank you.”
“Of course.” There’s a hint of sympathy in her smile before she walks out and closes the door. It leaves me wondering why she’d pity me. Because of the life I’ve been living until now…or because of the life I’m about to walk into?
