Chapter 1 - The Breath of the Lion
The room was filled with the sterile scent of antiseptic and the heavy,
oppressive weight of secrets,
as I stared into the dark,
piercing eyes of Dante Bellavita.
For nine months,
the world believed he was a hollow shell,
a ghost lingering in a body that refused to quit,
but the hand that suddenly gripped my wrist was made of iron.
I didn't scream,
because fear had already turned my throat into a desert,
and I couldn't move,
because the intensity of his gaze pinned me to the velvet chair.
His chest rose in a deep,
shuddering breath,
a sound like a beast waking from a long,
bitter winter.
“Who,”
he rasped,
his voice sounding like grinding stones,
“are you?”
I swallowed hard,
feeling the pulse in my neck thrumming against his fingertips.
“I am your wife,”
I whispered,
the words tasting like a lie and a death sentence all at once.
His eyes narrowed,
scanning my face with a lethal intelligence that suggested he was memorizing every pore,
every tremor,
every flicker of my soul.
“My wife,”
he repeated,
the irony thick enough to choke the air in the room.
“Marco,”
he breathed,
the name of his brother sounding like a curse.
“He thinks he can use a girl to guard my grave?”
I shook my head,
my hair brushing against my shoulders as I tried to find my voice.
“My father sold me to your family,”
I explained,
tears threatening to blur my vision.
“He said it was to save the legacy,”
“but I think he just wanted to save his own skin.”
Dante didn't let go of my wrist,
his thumb tracing the delicate line of my veins,
calculating the speed of my terror.
The machines continued to beep,
a rhythmic deception for the guards standing outside the heavy oak doors.
They thought they were protecting a vegetable,
not a man who was already planning his revenge.
“Don't call for the doctors,”
he commanded,
his voice gaining a terrifying strength.
“If Isabella or Marco find out I am back,”
“this room will become my coffin before the sun sets.”
I looked at the door,
then back at the man who was supposed to be my husband.
I was a pawn in a game I didn't understand,
but the lion was awake,
and he was looking at me like I was his only hope.
“Why me?”
I asked,
my voice trembling.
“Why did you wake up for me?”
A ghost of a smile touched his pale,
scarred lips.
“Because you didn't talk to me like a king,”
he said.
“You talked to me like a man who was alone.”
“And in this house,”
“truth is the only thing that can wake the dead.”
I realized then that my sacrifice wasn't over;
it was only just beginning.
I had to become the shield for the most dangerous man in America,
while the wolves waited just outside the door.
Dante leaned back into the pillows,
his grip loosening but his eyes never leaving mine.
“Play your part,
Claire,”
he whispered.
“Make them believe you are mourning a man who isn't there.”
“And when the time is right,”
“we will burn this fortress to the ground.”
I stood up,
straightening my white dress,
feeling the weight of the Bellavita name like a leaden crown.
May you like
The king was back,
and I was his only secret.
