Chapter 3

Maria sat at the vanity in her new bedroom, hands folded in her lap, staring at her reflection. The wedding dress was gone, replaced by a silk slip that clung to her body. Candlelight flickered in the large room, casting shadows across the walls. Every detail screamed wealth and power, but none of it belonged to her.

The Montella estate was more fortress than home, an architectural masterpiece designed to intimidate. Even the bedroom- her bedroom- felt like a gilded cage. Heavy velvet drapes covered the floor -to- ceiling windows, and gold embellishments adorned the furniture. Everything was too perfect, too cold.

The door clicked open behind her, and Maria didn't flinch. She had been waiting for him.

Luca stepped inside, his presence as commanding as ever. He had discarded his tuxedo jacket, leaving him in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The top buttons were undone, revealing a hint of tanned skin.

Silence stretched between them, thick with tension. Maria lifted her gaze to the mirror, meeting his eyes through the reflection. "Is this where you tell me to lie back and accept my fate like a good wife?"

Luca's lips curled at the edges, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "Do you expect me to force you?"

"You wouldn't be the first."

The room grew colder, the air heavy with something dangerous. Luca moved closer, stopping just behind her chair. His hands braced against the vanity, caging her in without touching her.

"I'm not your enemy, Maria." His voice was smooth, deliberate.

A bitter smile tugged at her lips. "A lie you've convinced yourself of, or one you expect me to believe?"

Luca exhaled slowly, his breath warm against her bare shoulder. "Believe whatever you want. But you are my wife now."

Maria turned, tilting her chin up. "Then kill me."

Her voice remained steady. "You should have finished the job years ago. Spalettis were a problem, so you erased them. Tell me, marito, why am I still breathing?"

Luca's fingers curled into fists against the vanity. "Because dead, you're just another martyr. Alive, you're an asset."

Maria searched his face, looking for any crack in his control. None appeared. She pushed back her chair and stood, closing the distance between them. "An asset," she repeated, voice softer now, almost mocking. "And what does a man like you do with an asset?"

Luca remained still, but the shift in his energy was unmistakable. He didn't step back, didn't look away. "That depends on whether you choose to be useful or not."

Maria lifted a hand, fingers ghosting over the undone buttons of his shirt. She wasn't foolish enough to believe she could manipulate him, but she wanted to see what would break first-his restraint or his patience.

Luca caught her wrist before she could go any further. His grip was firm, his thumb brushing against her pulse.

"Do not test me, cara mia," he warned.

Maria smiled, slow and dangerous. "Then don't make it so tempting."

Luca's grip tightened for a fraction of a second before he released her. Without another word, he turned and walked toward the door.

Pausing at the threshold, he glanced back. "Lock the door if it makes you feel better. I won't touch you unless you beg me to."

The door clicked shut behind him. Maria stood in the dimly lit room, pulse thrumming beneath her skin. Luca Montella was dangerous, but so was she. One of them would break first. It wouldn't be her.

---

Luca sat in his office, whiskey in hand, staring out at the city beyond the estate. The lights flickered like stars against the darkened skyline, a kingdom built on blood and power.

Maria Spaletti was a complication. A stunning, sharp-edged complication wrapped in silk and fire. He had expected resistance, but the way she met him head-on, unafraid, challenging-it did something to him.

Adrian walked in, dropping into the chair across from Luca's desk. "So, how's married life?"

Luca took a slow sip of whiskey. "Ask me in a week."

Adrian chuckled, leaning back. "She hates you."

"Good."

His Consigliere arched a brow. "You're enjoying this."

Luca didn't respond immediately. He set the glass down, fingers tapping against the mahogany surface. "She's not what I expected."

Adrian smirked. "You wanted a meek, obedient wife?"

"No." Luca's expression darkened. "I wanted someone predictable."

Adrian studied him for a long moment before nodding toward the whiskey. "Pour me one. I have something you need to hear."

Luca wordlessly poured a second glass, sliding it across the desk.

Adrian took a sip before setting it down. "We have a problem."

Luca's gaze sharpened.

"The Spalettis aren't as loyal to you as your father-in-law led you to believe," Adrian continued. "Some of them think Maria is a way back into power."

Luca's jaw clenched. "They think she can turn on me."

"Not yet," Adrian admitted. "But they're watching, waiting. If they think she can be leveraged, they'll make a move."

Luca exhaled slowly. "Then I'll make sure they understand where her loyalty lies."

Adrian tilted his head. "And where is that?"

Luca leaned back in his chair. "We'll find out soon enough."

---

Maria lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep wouldn't come. Not in this house. Not with him so close. The silence of the estate was unsettling, the kind that came with too many secrets buried in its walls. Every shift in the shadows, every creak of the floorboards, set her on edge.

Slipping out of bed, she padded toward the window, pushing the heavy drapes aside. The gardens stretched below, moonlight glinting off the fountain at the center. Guards patrolled the perimeter, their presence a stark reminder that this wasn't a home- it was a stronghold. Movement near the gate caught her eye. A dark figure lingered in the shadows, too careful, too still. Maria frowned. This wasn't a guard. The figure disappeared a moment later, but unease curled in her stomach. Turning from the window, she reached for the robe draped over the chair. Her fingers had barely closed around the fabric when the door swung open.

Luca stood in the doorway, shirt still unbuttoned, shadows clinging to him like a second skin.

Maria lifted a brow. "Did I forget to lock the door?"

He didn't answer, eyes scanning the room before settling on her.

"There was someone outside," she said before he could speak. "By the gate."

Luca's expression hardened. Without another word, he pulled out his phone, dialing quickly.

Maria watched him, taking in the way his shoulders tensed, the way his free hand curled into a fist. Luca Montella was a man who never showed his cards. But in this moment, something about the intruder unsettled even him. He ended the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket. "Go back to bed."

Maria crossed her arms. "Who was it?"

Luca didn't answer immediately. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them. "If there's a threat, I'll handle it."

Something about the way he said it sent a shiver down her spine. Not fear. Something else.

Maria held his gaze. "If someone's watching, it means they think I'm still a Spaletti."

Luca studied her for a long moment. "Are you?"

A challenge. A test. Maria's lips parted, words lingering at the tip of her tongue. She could say no, could tell him exactly what he wanted to hear. But lying to Luca Montella was dangerous, and she wasn't foolish enough to think he wouldn't see through it.

Instead, she stepped closer, tilting her head slightly. "That depends. Are you still the man who destroyed my family?"

Luca exhaled, something flickering in his dark eyes- something she couldn't quite decipher. Neither of them spoke. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing in the dim glow of the bedroom. Maria swallowed, heart pounding harder than she wanted to admit. The war between them had only just begun.