Chapter 3

The mansion was silent that night, the kind of quiet that felt unnatural, as though the world held its breath in anticipation of something dark. Aria lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, her thoughts a chaotic swirl. She couldn't sleep, not with the image of Damien's cold, distant face imprinted in her mind. The way he'd looked at her, like she was nothing more than an inconvenience, kept replaying in her head. It wasn't anger she felt-it was something deeper, a twisting ache that she couldn't quite name.

Throwing off the blankets, she slipped out of bed. The hardwood floors were cool beneath her bare feet as she crept towards the window. Outside, the storm had passed, leaving the world washed clean and eerily still. Moonlight spilled across the manicured gardens, casting long, ghostly shadows.

She pressed her forehead against the glass, watching the night with a strange sense of longing. What had she expected? That he would fall for her instantly? That the marriage would be anything other than a strategic move? She had been foolish to hope for more.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway made her tense. They were too deliberate, too heavy to belong to one of the maids. Aria held her breath, listening as they drew closer, stopping just outside her door. For a moment, she thought it might be Damien. Her heart raced at the thought, a confusing mix of fear and anticipation thrumming through her veins.

But the door didn't open. Instead, there was a faint rustling sound, like someone sliding something beneath the door. A letter? A note? She waited until the footsteps receded into the distance before she moved.

Curious, she crept to the door and bent down to pick up the folded piece of paper. Her fingers shook as she opened it, revealing a single line scrawled in neat, hurried handwriting:

Be careful who you trust.

Her blood ran cold. There was no signature, no clue as to who had left it. But the warning was clear. Someone was watching her, and someone knew that this marriage wasn't as straightforward as it seemed.

Before she could make sense of the message, she heard voices from downstairs. Damien's voice-low, angry, laced with a sharp edge she hadn't heard before. She couldn't make out what he was saying, but the tone was unmistakable. He was furious.

Against her better judgment, Aria opened the door a crack and peeked into the hallway. It was empty, the shadows long and still. She slipped out, padding silently towards the grand staircase. The voices grew louder as she descended, echoing off the high ceilings.

"...told you this was a mistake," a deep, unfamiliar voice said. It was clipped, with an accent that suggested he was a foreigner, not one of the local men.

"You don't get to question me," Damien snapped back. His tone was cold, final. It sent a shiver down her spine.

Aria crouched behind one of the large columns, peering around it to see who Damien was speaking with. Two men stood in the middle of the foyer, shrouded in the dim light. One was Damien, his posture tense, his fists clenched at his sides. The other was a tall, imposing figure with silver hair slicked back. He wore a tailored suit that screamed money and power, but his expression was hard, almost menacing.

"Bringing her here-marrying her-was a risk," the silver-haired man continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Luca won't take this lightly."

Luca. The name hit Aria like a punch to the gut. Luca Moretti, the man Damien had been involved with before this sham of a marriage. The man who, according to the whispers she'd overheard, was far more dangerous than anyone in the Salvatore family.

Damien's eyes narrowed. "Luca has no say in what I do. He lost that right a long time ago."

"You're a fool if you think he'll just let this go," the man spat. "He still loves you, you know. Or maybe he just hates you now-it's hard to tell with him."

Damien's jaw tightened, a flicker of something like pain crossing his face before it hardened again. "This isn't about love. It never was."

The silver-haired man scoffed, taking a step closer, lowering his voice. "You're playing a dangerous game, Damien. You think marrying that girl will make you safe? You've only painted a bigger target on her back."

Aria's breath caught in her throat. She knew she should leave, retreat to her room before they noticed her, but she was frozen, unable to tear herself away.

Damien's face was a mask of fury, but there was something else there too-something vulnerable, hidden deep beneath the surface. "I'll deal with Luca," he said quietly. "He won't touch her."

The other man laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Is that a promise, Damien? Because I remember the last time you made promises like that. They didn't end well."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched out, heavy and charged. Then Damien turned away abruptly, running a hand through his hair. "Get out," he ordered, his voice cold. "Before I change my mind about letting you leave."

The silver-haired man gave him a mocking salute. "As you wish, boss. But remember-this isn't over. Not by a long shot."

He turned and strode out, the front door slamming shut behind him. Damien stood there for a moment, staring after him, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

Aria knew she should leave before he noticed her, but her body refused to move. And then, as if sensing her presence, Damien's head snapped up, his eyes locking onto hers. The shock on his face was quickly replaced by a flicker of annoyance.

"How much did you hear?" he demanded, his voice sharper than the blade of a knife.

Aria stepped out from behind the column, her hands twisting together nervously. "Enough," she admitted. "Who was that?"

"None of your concern," he snapped, striding towards her. He was angry, but there was something else in his eyes-fear, maybe. It was the first real emotion she'd seen from him since they'd met.

"You're wrong," she said quietly, standing her ground. "It is my concern. If I'm in danger because of you, I deserve to know."

Damien stopped inches away from her, so close she could feel the heat radiating off his body. He glared down at her, his jaw clenched so tightly she could see the muscles twitching. "You're in danger because you chose to marry into this life," he said, his voice low and venomous. "And the only way you're going to survive it is if you do exactly what I say."

Aria swallowed hard, but she didn't back down. "And what is it you want me to do?"

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes boring into hers as if he were trying to read her soul. Then, without warning, he cupped her chin in his hand, tilting her face up to his. His touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the harshness of his words.

"Stay out of my way," he whispered. "And don't trust anyone. Not even me."

Before she could respond, he released her and walked away, disappearing up the stairs. The sound of his footsteps faded into the silence, leaving Aria alone once again, clutching the warning note in her trembling hand.

She sank back against the column, her heart pounding in her chest. In that moment, she realized the truth.

She was trapped in a game far more dangerous than she'd ever imagined. And the man she'd been forced to marry might be the only one who could save her-or the one who would destroy her.