"She agreed," Adrian's voice reaches my ear.
I look up from my glass of wine, the amber liquid catching fire in the light, and let a slow smirk curve my lips.
"Of course she did," I murmur, leaning back into the leather of my office chair. I swirl the glass gently—just like I'll swirl Aria's life. "What choice did she have, anyway?" I didn't expect her to agree to the marriage this easily. But then again—family. To protect them, people will go to limitless lengths. It's the one fucking thing that can't be used against me.
"You used her brother," Adrian says from across the room. He stands by the bookshelf, arms crossed.
I arch an eyebrow. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
Adrian is many things—cold, ruthless, deadly. But sometimes, he clings to morality like it isn't already buried six feet underground.
"This is marriage we're talking about, Dante."
"And so?" I raise a brow.
"This is a life commitment. You can't go around using marriage for some silly game," he says, stepping closer. "And worst of all, with someone who hates you—and your family. Your fucking enemy. You could've had any woman."
"She's not like the others," I say.
She isn't. She's Aria Morello. A girl with fire in her eyes, raised to hate me and my family. Someone ready to destroy me. Most girls go soft and drooling when they see me—when they even look at me. But her? I saw something I've never seen before. The urge to ruin me. To burn me alive. To bury me six feet deep. All in one girl's eyes. Aria Morello. My soon-to-be wife.
"Why her?" Adrian asks softly.
I swirl the drink slowly, watching the amber tide crash against the rim of the glass.
"Because," I say quietly, "she's exactly what I need. A game I want to play. She made a promise fourteen years ago—to destroy the Morettis. And the determination, the wrath in her eyes... I knew it hadn't gone anywhere. I want to see every single move she makes to try and destroy us."
It was raining heavily. Wailing echoed from every corner of the burial ground. But she stood there, in front of the two coffins—Salvatore Morello and Luciana Morello—her parents. And not a single tear fell from her eyes.
She was eight. Eight years old, standing like nothing had happened, after losing her whole world.
The coffins were lowered into the ground. Just like that, one of the state's most powerful couples—gone.
Uncle Sal, as I always called him, was one of the few people I loved. He treated me better than he did his own daughter. My father's best friend.
"Let go of your pain, Aria," a woman from the crowd cried.
"She hasn't shed a single tear since their death," her uncle, Ricardo, sniffed.
"Only the weak cry," she said, speaking for the first time.
She turned to the crowd. Our eyes met. All I saw was hatred. Raw rage. Then she shifted her gaze to my father, standing beside me, and walked up to him.
"Oh, my bab—" he started, but she cut him off.
"No," she said, raising her hand to silence him. "That Aria has died together with her parents."
Her voice was venom.
"The one standing here is vengeance. Today, in front of my parents' grave, I, Aria Morello, vow to destroy you, Russell Moretti, and your entire empire. I'll leave nothing behind. Not even your precious little heir."
Her eyes were fearless. Unflinching. Burning.
"…You're playing with fire, Dante," Adrian's voice snaps me back to the present.
"No, Adrian. I'm inviting it in. Pouring it a drink. And watching how high the flames go."
Because this game isn't just about Aria. It's about him—my father. The man who hated her for that vow. Hated her for swearing to destroy him, his empire, and what he valued most: me. His heir.
Adrian blinks. "You're fucking crazy, you know that? You invited someone who promised to kill you to live under your roof."
I smile. "Not kill. Destroy. There's a difference."
He looks at me like I've lost my mind.
"Dante!" he calls.
"Mm?" I grunt.
"Are you scared?" he asks.
Before I can reply, he answers himself.
"Okay, that's dumb of me. Dante Moretti? Scared? A dream that'll never come true."
"Not unless heaven and hell collide," I smirk.
"Yeah. Impossible," he nods.
Because it's not fear that makes me want Aria Morello.
It's fascination.
I've seen hatred in many forms—cold, blind, raging. But never like hers. Never so silent. So elegant. A girl with ash on her tongue and fury in her bones. A girl raised to hate me, and yet, she agreed to wear my name.
So I made the game simple:
Use the boy.
Trap the girl.
Marry the enemy.
And watch what happens next.