Chapter 2: Branded by His Jealousy

The morning light crept softly into the room, casting a golden hue on the sheets as a gentle knock echoed against the bedroom door.

Elena stirred awake, her lashes fluttering open. But as consciousness returned, so did a jolt of panic, a heavy arm was draped over her waist, pulling her tightly against a firm, powerful body.

Dario.

Her breath caught. What was he doing… holding her?

The man who resented her… now clinging to her in his sleep?

She barely dared to move. His muscular arm, inked with dark tattoos, wrapped around her like a chain. His strong chest pressed against her back, the hard ridges of his abs burning into her spine. His thick thigh was tangled between her legs and worse, his morning arousal pressed against her, sending a flush of heat and shame through her core.

Elena bit her lip. Her heart raced as her gaze cautiously drifted to the man lying beside her.

Even in sleep, Dario Moretti looked like a fallen god.

Broad shoulders, sharp jawline, thick lashes, full red lips. His chiseled face was serene now, so different from the storm he carried when he was awake.

But this beauty masked something terrifying. She knew that.

She had once loved this face. The first time she saw him on their wedding day, she had fallen completely and foolishly. But that same face had broken her. Every bruise, every cold word, every silent night had taught her what kind of man Dario really was.

And yet… here he was. Holding her close. As if he didn’t despise her.

A soft knock came again.

Elena froze, then slowly, silently, began to slip from his grasp. She didn’t want to wake him, not when his temper could turn savage if disturbed too early. She knew his habits, his moods, his rage; she had learned them all the hard way over the last three years.

After carefully sliding from beneath his arm, she grabbed her robe. Her body still ached from the night before, and her stomach turned with nervous sickness a cruel reminder of the secret she was still carrying.

She opened the door to find Contessa Valentina, Dario’s stepmother, standing with a gentle smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Is Dario awake?” Valentina asked softly.

Elena shook her head. “No… not yet.”

Valentina nodded. “Oh dear, he’ll be furious if he misses his schedule. You know how he is when his morning routine gets ruined. I’ll wake him. You go prepare his breakfast.”

She touched Elena’s hand, squeezing it with faux concern.

Elena nodded and quickly turned toward the kitchen, her heart already racing with unease.

She had no idea what storm was about to be unleashed upstairs.

---

Valentina stepped into the bedroom, her eyes narrowing the moment she spotted the shredded fabric on the floor Elena’s torn panties from last night.

Her lips twisted into a scowl.

She had worked too hard to keep Dario bitter and detached. She didn’t want his loyalty shaken by something as fragile as affection. And seeing evidence of their intimacy boiled her blood.

She kicked the torn fabric under the bed with disgust, then wiped her expression clean and walked to the bed, a sweet, motherly smile replacing her scowl.

As she reached out to gently touch Dario’s head, he slapped her hand away instinctively, harshly.

Valentina gasped in pain.

Dario’s eyes opened, cold and sharp. He blinked in confusion before realizing who stood before him.

“Mother,” he muttered. “Sorry… I didn’t know it was you.”

But his tone was still cold. Distant.

Years of trauma had hardened him. His voice knew no softness, not even for her.

Valentina masked her reaction with a light laugh. “It’s all right. You looked tired, and I just got worried. You never sleep this late.”

“I was out late. No meetings this morning. I’m fine,” Dario replied, rising from the bed and slipping on a black T-shirt.

“Oh… silly me,” Valentina chuckled, lightly slapping her forehead. “I thought you’d be angry because Elena spent two million shopping yesterday.”

Dario’s brow didn’t even twitch. “So what? She’s my wife. She can spend whatever she wants.”

Valentina’s smile twitched.

In truth, she had used Elena’s black card, the one Dario had given her with an unlimited limit to indulge in that spending spree. But, like always, she needed a reason to poison Dario against Elena.

“You’re such a kind husband,” Valentina murmured, her voice trembling just enough to seem sincere. “I don’t know why Elena feels the need to flirt with other men.”

Dario’s head snapped toward her.

“What did she do?”

Valentina pretended to panic. “I… I shouldn’t have said that. Please, forget I mentioned it. I'll go.”

“Stop.” Dario’s voice was sharp as a blade. “Tell me what she did.”

With a pitiful sigh, Valentina murmured, “Yesterday… while we were shopping… She met a young, handsome salesman. She was smiling too much. Laughing. Touching his hand. I tried to warn her, but… you know how she never listens to me.”

Valentina turned to leave, her eyes glinting with hidden satisfaction.

But Dario’s fury had already ignited.

He didn’t wait for details. He didn’t question the truth.

He stormed past her, fists clenched, jaw locked, eyes blazing with rage.

All logic drowned beneath the roar of jealousy.

All he could think about was her, Elena. and the idea of another man touching what belonged to him.

She was his.

And she needed to be reminded of that.