Chapter Three
Elena's POV
I blinked,, sure I had misheard him. "What?"
His gray eyes never left mine, his expression calm yet with an unsettling certainty. "You heard me, Elena. Marry me."
A bitter laugh bubbled in my throat, but it came out shaky. "You can't be serious."
His smirk didn't waver. "Do I look like someone who jokes?"
Panic took over the disbelief. This had to be some kind of twisted game, right? First, he stalks me, then he inserts himself into my life, and now he's proposing marriage? Marriage? I took a step back from his heat radiating off me, shaking my head. "Why the hell would I marry you?"
His smirk faded, replaced by something colder. "Because, sweetheart, I'm your only way out."
I clenched my fists. "That's not true. I don't need you."
He titled his head slightly, as if he found my response amusing. "No?" Run back to your father. Beg for his mercy? He would still force you to marry that cheating bastard," he cursed, like he was in any way different.
I swallowed hard, hating that he was right. Father would demand that I 'fix things'—as if I were the problem.
But marrying a stranger? A stalker? That wasn't an option.
He took another step towards me, his finger trailing my jaw. "Marry me, and I'll give you something Marcus never could —protection. Power. Freedom.”
I let out a bitter laugh. "Freedom? That's rich coming from a man that stalks me."
His smirk returned, but this time it was colder. "I had no choice. But at least, I was able to stop you from marrying your cheating fiancée." He was right though. If he weren't for him, I doubted if I'd ever find out.
I took a deep breath. "I don't even know your name."
He studied me for a second before answering. "Dante…Dante Morreti."
The name made me shiver with fear. It was fitting. Dark. Dangerous, just like him.
Dante slipped his possessive, yet gentle hand around my waist. "Think carefully,
Elena. You can either go back to the life that betrayed you...." His lips were just inches apart from mine. Or you can choose me."
I exhaled shakily. He was right. I had no good options, but marrying him? That would be trading one prison for another.
"No." I walked past him, and made my way towards the door. "I'll figure this out myself." With that I gripped the door knob, twist it and stepped outside.
I left the mansion, my heart pounding as I stepped into the cold morning sun. My mind raced, replaying everything that had just happened with Dante. Marry him? The idea was insane.
I needed clarity. I needed answers. So when Marcus called, demanding where I had been, I decided I wouldn't keep quiet any longer.
We met at the lodge, and the moment I stepped inside I felt the burden of betrayal pressing on my chest. The air was thick with the faint yet unmistakable scent of another woman's perfume.
I crossed my arms. "Where were you last night, Marcus?"
He barely looked up from his drink., lounging in his expensive leather chair like he had nothing to worry about. "Out. Business. I told you."
Pain course through my heart. "Business? Is that what you call fucking my best friend?"
That got his attention. He finally looked at me, his expression unreadable before he scoffed. "Is that what this is about? Elena, don't throw a tantrum over nothing."
My breath caught, tears threatening to spill. "Nothing? You cheated on me, Marcus! With my best friend! And you expect me to just accept it."
He stood, setting his drink down with an exasperated sigh. "Look, Elena, don't be naive. Relationships aren't perfect. People make mistakes. But let’s be honest—you’re not going anywhere."
I placed my hand over my face, forcing back my tears. This bastard isn't worth it. "You don't know that."
He smirked. "I do. Because your father won't let you."
Dread curled around my spine. "We'll see about that."
I turned and stormed out, my heart hammering as I headed towards my father's mansion. I found him in the living room, nursing his usual morning coffee.
"I want to call off the engagement," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady.
He didn't even blink. "That's not an option."
Anger surged through me. "He cheated on me with Cathy. I won't marry him."
He sighed, standing from his chair. "Elena, you will. Do you know what cancelling this marriage would cost me? You will marry Marcus, and it's final."
The tears I had held for long started streaming down my face. "You're selling me off like a business deal."
His gaze hardened. "Then consider yourself a valuable asset."
I swallowed hard, realising there was no getting through him. I will fix this myself. As I turned to leave, he gestured to the guards that stood nearby. "Seize her. Make sure she doesn't step a foot outside her room. The wedding will take place in two weeks time."
"Get married? Two weeks?" My voice trembled as I repeated his word, my expression a mix of outrage and disbelief. "Dad, you can't be serious. My fiancée betrayed me and I still get to marry the bastard?"
He ignored my protests, his voice void of any emotion as he signalled to the men standing by. Without hesistation, one of them stepped forward, hoisting me over his shoulders like a bag of grain.
"Put me down!" I yelled, my voice desperate and echoing through the large room. "Dad..... please."
The man carried me upstairs, his grip firm. Upon reaching my room, he shoved the door open and dropped me inside.
I slammed the door, pleading as tears streamed down my face but all went unanswered. This is really my life now.
Dante. Was he watching this too? I had rejected his offer, but caould he still save me? If only......mother was still alive, she wouldn't watch her daughter marry a man who had no respect for her.
"God please," I muttered until sleep finally claimed me.
Two weeks later.
The morning of my supposed wedding, I stood at the altar beside Marcus, dressed in a gown that felt more like a shroud. My legs trembled, and the bouquet in my hands felt heavier with each passing second as I forced a smile, just as Father had instructed me.
Marcus stepped closer, slipping a hand across my waist, his breath warm against mine. "I told you, you're mine, Elena," he whispered, his voice sending waves of irritation through me.
I didn't respond. Instead my grip tightened around the bouquet.
"Do you," the priest began, his voice booming through the luxurious hall, "Marcus Gray, take Elena Carter as your lawfully wedded wife, to love and to hold till death do you part?"
"Yes, I do," Marcus said with arrogant confidence.
My eyes instinctively shifted to the entrance, hoping—praying—someone would come. But no one was coming. My heart ached, tears forming at the corners of my eyes.
"Do you Elena Carter, take Magnus Grey as your lawfully wedded husband?"
I didn't respond. My voice would break if I did.
The guests murmured, the journalist camera close in on us to get the perfect shot, and through my blurred vision, I saw my father hardened expression.
Marcus stepped closer to me, whispering. "What are you doing? Do you want to embarrass me?"
The priest repeated.
Well, this is how my story ends. I swallowed hard, parting my lips to speak, but before I could, a voice ran through the hall—
"No. Not yet." The voice didn't come from the guest or anyone around. No. It came from the speaker inside the hall.
Before I could process anything, the massive church doors burst open with a defeaning thud. Gasps and screams echoed in hall as men in black suits stormed inside, their expression unmistakably hardened. Chaos erupted around me—guests ducked under pews, and the journalists scrambled to capture the unfolding spectacle.
Marcus stiffened beside me, his grip around my waist tightened. "What the hell are you up to, Elena?" He hissed.
Before I could answer, the sea of men parted revealing a figure who walked in with slow, deliberate steps. Dante.
He was dressed in a sharp black suit, his expression unreadable, but there was something chilling about the way he strolled towards me, a predator stepping into his domain. His gaze met mine, a silent question lingering in the air.
"You really thought, I'd let this sham of a wedding happen?"