CHAPTER 6: THE DINNER

MIA'S POV

The moment I sat down, every eye at the table was on me.

Judging. Calculating. Measuring.

Dante pulled out my chair. His hand rested on my shoulder for a brief moment. Possessive. A clear message to everyone watching: She's mine.

I forced myself to smile. To breathe. To not look at Luca, who sat directly across from us.

"Everyone," Dante said, his voice carrying authority.

"This is my wife, Mia."

A woman to my right spoke first. Beautiful, mid-thirties, dripping in diamonds.

"How... unexpected. We all thought you were marrying Vanessa Chen."

"Plans changed," Dante said smoothly.

"I prefer Mia."

The lie sounded almost believable.

"She's very young," an older man observed. He had cold eyes and hands covered in rings.

"How old are you, dear?"

"Twenty-one," I said quietly.

"Practically a child." The woman laughed. It wasn't kind.

"Tell me, Mia. What does a college girl know about running a mafia household?"

"Isabella." Dante's voice dropped to something dangerous.

"Choose your next words carefully."

Isabella. The name from the files Maria had mentioned. Dante's ex-lover. His lawyer.

She smiled at him. Intimate. Knowing.

"I'm just curious about your... choice, Dante. We all are."

"My choice is none of your concern."

"But it is. When the head of the Moretti family makes decisions, we all feel the consequences." Her eyes slid to me. Sharp. Assessing.

"Especially when that decision involves producing an heir under such tight timelines."

The table went silent. Dante's hand found mine under the table. Squeezed. Another warning.

"The timeline is my business," he said coldly. "Not yours."

"Of course." Isabella picked up her wine glass. "I'm just saying... if you need any legal advice about alternative arrangements, I'm always available. Day or night."

The innuendo was clear.

I wanted to throw my wine in her face.

Instead, I squeezed Dante's hand back. Two could play this game.

"How thoughtful," I said, my voice sweet as poison.

"But my husband has everything he needs. Don't you, darling?"

I looked at Dante. Forced myself to smile like I meant it.

Something flickered in his eyes. Surprise. Then something darker.

"Yes," he said quietly. "I do."

For a moment, the mask cracked. He looked at me like I was more than a means to an end.

Then it was gone.

"Enough," Luca said from across the table. His voice cut through the tension.

"Let's not make the poor girl's first family dinner a interrogation. She's been through enough."

Everyone turned to him.

"How generous of you, Luca," Isabella purred.

"Defending your brother's wife."

"Someone should. Since Dante seems more interested in intimidating her than protecting her." Luca raised his glass to me.

"Welcome to the family, Mia. I hope you survive us."

"I intend to," I said.

Luca's smile widened. "I like her. She has spine."

"Touch her and I'll break yours," Dante said flatly.

"Always so dramatic." Luca leaned back in his chair.

"Tell me, brother. Have you told your wife about Father's other businesses? The ones that aren't in the official books?"

Dante's entire body went rigid.

"Or about the debts he left? The enemies circling?" Luca's eyes gleamed.

"No? Still keeping secrets from your bride?"

"Shut up, Luca."

"Why? She should know what she married into. She should know about the Volkov family's contract. About the shipment Father promised them before he died. About the war that's coming whether we like it or not."

"I said shut up."

"Make me."

The air crackled with violence.

I could feel Dante's rage radiating off him in waves. His hand was crushing mine now. Too tight.

"Gentlemen," the old man with the rings said.

"Perhaps we should discuss this privately. After dinner."

"No," I said.

Everyone looked at me.

"No?" Isabella raised an eyebrow.

"The child speaks."

"I'm not a child. I'm Dante's wife.

Which means this is my business too." I looked at Luca.

"What contract? What war?"

Luca's smile was triumphant.

"Our father made a deal with the Volkov family six months before he died. Promised them access to our eastern ports for their weapons shipments. In exchange, they'd eliminate the Costello family—our rivals."

"Luca—" Dante warned.

"But Father died before fulfilling his end. And now the Volkovs want payment. Either we honor the deal—" Luca paused dramatically,

"—or they take it by force. Starting with everyone Father loved."

My blood ran cold. "When?"

"Three weeks." Luca's eyes locked on mine.

"The same deadline as your pregnancy timeline. Convenient, isn't it?"

I looked at Dante. At the cold fury on his face.

"Is this true?" I asked him.

He didn't answer. That was answer enough.

"You brought me into this," I said quietly.

"Married me. Made me a target. And didn't even tell me about a war?"

"It's handled," Dante said through gritted teeth.

"Is it? Because Luca doesn't seem to think so."

"Luca is trying to manipulate you—"

"By telling me the truth?" I pulled my hand from his.

"At least he's honest about what's coming."

Dante's expression went from fury to something colder. More dangerous.

"Careful, wife," he said softly. "Choose your allies wisely."

"Maybe I'm tired of choosing. Maybe I'm tired of being kept in the dark while men fight over me like I'm property." I stood.

"Excuse me. I need air."

"Sit down," Dante ordered.

"No."

The table gasped. Apparently, no one said no to Dante Moretti.

"Mia—"

"I said no." I looked at him. At the shock on his face. "You want a wife who survives your world? Then treat me like a partner, not a pawn. Tell me the truth. All of it. Or I'll find someone who will."

I walked out.

My legs were shaking. My heart pounding. But I kept my head high.

Behind me, I heard chairs scraping. Voices raised.

And Dante's voice, cold as death: "Sit down. All of you. Now."

I made it to the hallway before someone caught my arm.

I spun around.

Luca.

"That," he said, grinning, "was magnificent."

"Let go of me."

"In a second. First—" He pulled me into an alcove, away from the dining room. Away from cameras.

"You need to know something. Tonight. Before it's too late."

"What?"

"The Volkovs aren't the only threat. There's a traitor in this house. Someone feeding information to our enemies. Someone close to Dante." His eyes were serious now. Intense.

"And I think I know who."

"Who?"

"Isabella. She's been in contact with the Costello family. I have proof. But Dante won't believe me because—" He paused.

"Because we have history. He thinks I'm trying to turn him against her."

"Are you?"

"No. I'm trying to keep him alive. Keep all of us alive." He glanced back toward the dining room. "But he's too stubborn to see it. Too focused on beating me to see the real danger."

"Why tell me?"

"Because you're the only one he might actually listen to. Because you just proved you're not afraid of him. And because—" He stopped.

"Because what?"

"Because I don't want to see you die in a war you didn't start." His hand was still on my arm. Gentle now. "You don't deserve this, Mia. You deserve better than both of us."

For a moment, he looked genuine.

Real.

Then footsteps. Coming fast.

"Go," Luca said, releasing me. "Back to your room. Lock the door. Don't trust anyone tonight."

He disappeared down a side hallway just as Dante appeared.

His face was a mask of controlled fury.

"What did he say to you?" Dante demanded.

"That there's a traitor. That Isabella is working with your enemies." I lifted my chin. "Is it true?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Probably." He grabbed my wrist. Not rough. But firm.

"But that doesn't mean you trust Luca. It means you trust no one."

"Including you?"

"Especially me." He pulled me closer.

"I'm a monster, Mia. I've done terrible things. I'll do worse before this is over. The only question is: are you strong enough to stand beside me anyway?"

I looked up at him. At this beautiful, broken, dangerous man.

"I don't know yet," I said honestly.

"Ask me in four weeks."

Something that might have been respect flickered across his face.

"Come," he said. "I'm taking you to a safe room. The guests can finish dinner without us."

"A safe room?"

"If there's a traitor, if Luca's right, then tonight might be when they make their move." He was already pulling me down the hallway. "And I'm not losing you before I get what I need."

Always back to that. What he needed.

The heir. The inheritance.

Not me.

Never me.

We reached a hidden door. He pressed his palm to a scanner. It opened to reveal stairs leading down.

"What is this?" I asked.

"My father's panic room. Only I know about it. Not even Luca." He pulled me inside. Locked the door behind us.

"We stay here tonight. Together."

The room was small. One bed. One bathroom. Supplies stacked against the walls.

A cage disguised as safety.

"You're not seriously expecting me to sleep here with you," I said.

"I'm expecting you to stay alive. What you do with the bed is up to you." He pulled off his jacket. Tossed it on a chair. "But yes. We're staying together. Because if someone tries to kill you tonight, I'd rather be here to stop it."

"How romantic."

"I'm not romantic. I'm practical." He loosened his tie.

"You can take the bed. I'll take the chair."

I stared at him. At this man who claimed to be a monster but kept protecting me anyway.

"Dante," I said quietly. "Why do you really want me alive? And don't say the heir. I want the real reason."

He looked at me for a long moment. Something warred in his eyes.

Then he turned away.

"Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be worse."

Not an answer. Never an answer.

I climbed into the bed, fully clothed, and listened to him settle into the chair across the room.

In the darkness, I pulled out Luca's note from my clutch.

Check his left wrist tonight. If there's a birthmark, it's me, not him.

I looked at Dante's silhouette in the chair.

His left arm rested on the armrest.

I couldn't see if there was a birthmark or not.

Which meant I'd spend all night wondering: Was the man protecting me Dante?

Or was it Luca?

And in the morning, would I even be able to tell?