Chapter 3

The next afternoon, I timed it carefully and left the house.

But Dante's car just happened to pull up right in front of me.

His eyes were cold. I couldn't tell which one he was.

"The East Side pier," I told the driver as I opened the door of a cab at the curb.

At that, Dante's face changed. "Nina, where are you going?" He got out of the car, strode over, and grabbed my shoulders. "You promised you'd never leave me."

It was true. I had promised I'd never leave him. But he'd also sworn he would only ever love me.

Just then, the passenger door opened.

Bianca stepped out, her makeup flawless. She'd obviously spent a long time getting ready.

"Nina, I'm sorry. Dante didn't mean to leave you out of the yacht party tonight."

"If you want to go, I'll just stay home."

Dante visibly relaxed at that.

"It's fine. One more person won't hurt."

He reassured Bianca while hauling me toward the car.

"Come on! I only didn't tell you because you've seemed so worn down lately."

"No, thanks." I shook off his hand.

He paused for a second, then gave me that indulgent smile.

"Silly girl. You don't have to test me. I told you, I'll never give up on you."

But he'd already given up on me, hadn't he?

In the end, he and his bodyguards forced me into that bulletproof Bentley I knew so well.

The yacht was blazing with light and packed with the most powerful people in the city.

I found a corner and used my backup phone to let him know I couldn't make it to the pier yet.

Suddenly there was a burst of laughter from the crowd, and then Bianca's high, pitiful wail:

"Please, Luca! I know I lost, and I'll follow the rules. But I can't take my clothes off... I belong to Dante! You can't make me do this."

She'd lost hand after hand.

Dante pulled Bianca behind him. "Whatever she owes, I'll cover it. There's no need to push her."

Luca and Dante had always been friendly on the surface and enemies underneath. He clamped a cigar between his teeth, smirked, and blew out a ring of smoke.

"A bet's a bet. That's the rule in our world. Dante, your woman doesn't keep her word? Does that mean the Moretti family's promises are worth just as little?"

Bianca huddled against Dante's chest, trembling with humiliation, her tears smearing her makeup.

"So what do you want?" Dante said through his teeth, his eyes dangerous.

Luca gave a cold snort. His gaze slid through the crowd like a snake and landed on me.

"Fine, she doesn't have to strip. Let your wife do it. If I remember right, Mrs. Moretti used to be the top dancer at the hottest club underground."

Dante went rigid.

He pressed his lips together and said nothing.

But when Bianca, crying, made a show of tugging at her own dress, he wavered.

"Nina, Bianca's never been in a situation like this."

"You used to do this for a living. It's different for you."

A chill ran straight down my spine.

Ten years ago, while they were living it up in college, I was dancing on a pole in a nightclub. It was the lowest point of my life. My father had gambled away every cent of my mother's medical money.

Dante knew how much I hated gambling. He knew how humiliating that time had been for me.

Back then, if anyone so much as mentioned it, he'd go after them like he was ready to kill.

And now, he was the one tearing open my scar.

"Dante, do you even hear what you're saying?"

My eyes burned as I demanded an answer. He avoided my gaze and spoke in a low voice.

"Nina, I'm begging you."

"You're both women. After everything you went through, you wouldn't want a nice, innocent girl like Bianca to go through the same thing, would you?"

"You used to look out for the other girls at the club, didn't you?"

Luca understood. No one was going to stand up for me now.

At his signal, several men pinned me facedown on the gambling table.

"Damn. The rumors about the don's wife don't do her justice."

"Dante's lost his goddamn mind, giving us a free show. Best party ever."

"Come on, sweetheart. Take it off! Show us why you were the headliner."

They tore at my evening gown, whistling and roaring with laughter.

The cold tabletop pressed against my skin. Tears of humiliation ran down my face.

Then a suit jacket, smelling of familiar tobacco, was wrapped around me from head to toe.

Dante patted my back gently and pulled me into his arms. "It's okay, Nina. It's okay now."

At those words, a memory came back to me. Another night of chaos, just like this one.

A few drunk, out-of-control customers at the underground club had grabbed me, and this man had gone at them like a rabid dog, fighting them with his bare hands until none of them could get up.

He was bleeding from his head, but he didn't care about any of it. He stumbled over, pulled off his jacket, and wrapped it tight around me. "It's okay, Nina. It's okay now."

Fine. From now on, I would never expect anything from him again.