Chapter 3

Before I could respond, he grabbed my shirt collar roughly. "Or maybe you're craving another gang bang?"

He started tearing at my blouse. "Tell me, slut—how many cocks did you take that night?"

I stared at him quietly, feeling absolutely nothing.

"Do you have any idea how much I've been humiliated because of you?" he roared. "That bastard Connor smirks every time he sees me, like he's thinking 'I fucked your wife first'!"

I met his bloodshot eyes. "Dante, when you married me—was it because you loved me, or for the inheritance?"

Panic flickered across his face. He opened his mouth, then collapsed back onto the sofa.

Looking at his pathetic form, something clicked. I walked to the master bedroom and called my lawyer.

"Mr. Harrison, that marriage clause in the old don's will—was it real?"

"Yes, ma'am. Mr. Moretti had to marry you to inherit the full estate. Without the marriage, he would only receive a fraction."

I stared at the family ring on my finger. So I had been nothing but a transaction from the very beginning.

The next morning, I was reviewing paperwork in the living room when I heard the sharp click of stilettos.

Chloe sauntered over in designer heels. "Good morning, Mrs. Moretti. You look terrible."

She tilted her head with mock concern. "Trouble sleeping? Or just sexually frustrated? Dante's developed more... refined tastes."

She paused, savoring my silence. "Want me to hook you up with some guys? I heard you're quite the expert at handling multiple partners."

Rage flared in my chest. "Get out of my house, you little bitch!"

Chloe's smile widened. "Your house? Sweetheart, this is Moretti property, and I'm Mr. Moretti's guest."

Before I could react, she grabbed my wrist and used my hand to slap herself hard, her nails raking bloody scratches across her cheek.

She immediately burst into tears. "Dante! She's lost it! She's trying to destroy my face!"

Dante thundered downstairs, taking in the blood streaking Chloe's cheek.

"You psychotic bitch!" He backhanded me across the face. "How dare you touch her!"

The crack echoed through the living room as fire spread across my left cheek.

Dante had already turned away, gently examining the scratches on Chloe's face. "Baby, you can't just let people attack you."

"You need to defend yourself." He gripped her hand. "Let me teach you."

Chloe blinked through her crocodile tears. "But I've never hit anyone..."

"Then it's time you learned." His eyes found mine with cold calculation.

I stood frozen as this man showed another woman a tenderness he'd never given me.

Dante positioned himself behind me, covering Chloe's hands with his. The household staff had materialized around us like vultures.

"Like this."

Chloe's fist, guided by his, connected with my jaw.

Crack!

Lightning shot through my skull.

"Perfect! Again."

Crack!

My right cheek exploded in pain, and I tasted copper.

"Excellent form, baby."

Five blows total. Each one precise, each one earning Dante's praise. Only when blood began trickling from my mouth did he say, "That's enough, sweetheart."

"Let me see your hand." Dante cradled Chloe's fist like it was made of porcelain.

Chloe nestled against his chest. "Dante, my hand really stings..."

He kissed her knuckles and massaged her palm. "Poor baby. We can't have you bruising these beautiful hands."

"Next time we'll find a softer punching bag."

I stood five feet away, blood still dripping onto the marble floor.

Dante carried Chloe upstairs, calling over his shoulder without glancing back, "Giuseppe, get Mrs. Moretti some ice. Her face is a mess."

Just like that. No concern, no apology, no acknowledgment.

I watched them disappear up the stairs. Chloe looked back once, her lips curved in triumph, then whispered something in Dante's ear that made them both laugh.

The next afternoon, my face still throbbing, I caught fragments of their conversation from around the corner.

"Tonight's the Golden Dice grand opening." Dante adjusted his navy suit. "Every power player in Chicago will be there."

Chloe wrapped herself around his arm. "Darling, we should bring Evelyn."

"After all, she is Mrs. Moretti. Having her there would be... decorative." Her smile turned predatory. "And I've already chosen the perfect outfit for her."

Dante raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"You'll see. Very... appropriate for her station."

My stomach dropped, knowing I was walking into a trap.

An hour later, Chloe entered the master bedroom carrying a Versace box.

"Dante personally selected this for you." She lifted out what could generously be called a dress. "He said it's time you showed your true nature."

I stared at the scraps of black silk—a plunging neckline that dove to the navel, a hem that barely grazed my thighs, and a completely open back. It looked less like clothing than like gift wrap for merchandise.

"Gorgeous, isn't it?" Chloe admired her handiwork. "Dante knew you'd love it."

I wanted to refuse, but the words died in my throat. I couldn't afford the consequences of defiance.

When I emerged from the dressing room, I caught my reflection in the mirror—packaged and presented like goods for auction.

"Let me see." Dante's voice cut through the door.

I opened it. His eyes raked over me, his Adam's apple bobbing, but within seconds he sneered. "Trashy. You look like a whore no matter what you wear."

In the Rolls-Royce heading to the Golden Dice, Chicago's neon skyline blurred past the windows. I sat in front while Dante and Chloe occupied the back seat.

"Evelyn, I'm curious." Chloe leaned forward. "After being with so many men, you must have gotten pregnant multiple times."

"All those abortions must have been agony. Unlike me—I'm pure, and I only want Dante's children." Her voice caught with manufactured emotion.

My hands clenched into fists. "Shut up, Chloe. At least I didn't fuck my way to the top."

"Evelyn!" Dante's voice cracked like a whip, slightly breathless. "Watch your mouth. Chloe was making conversation."

The Rolls-Royce stopped in the VIP lot. "Evelyn, go up first," Dante commanded, showing no intention of leaving the car. "Tell them we'll be along shortly."

I looked at him in confusion but climbed out and walked toward the elevator in my stilettos.

I waited at the entrance for a full hour, listening to champagne corks popping and music drifting from inside, but without Dante's permission, I didn't dare enter.

The elevator finally opened. Dante emerged with Chloe draped on his arm, his tie askew, hair mussed. Chloe's lipstick was completely gone, her eyes still glazed with satisfaction, her dress wrinkled beyond repair.

I froze, the truth hitting me like ice water.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." Dante straightened his cuffs without looking at me. "We had some... pressing business."

Chloe winked at me, her swollen lips forming words: "Very pressing. And very... satisfying."

We entered the main hall. Every conversation died as hundreds of eyes locked onto me, even with my coat on.

"Look at that dress..."

"That's Mrs. Moretti?"

"She looks like she works the streets."

"Does she have no shame?"

Dante guided Chloe through the crowd to schmooze investors while I trailed behind like a shadow, absorbing more whispered humiliation.

"Evelyn." Dante suddenly turned. "Lose the coat. You're overdressed."

I pulled my coat tighter instinctively. "Dante, please..."

"Now."