Chapter 20
Elara’s POV
The glass was freezing against my fingers as I slowly sipped my drink, letting the burn of the liquor settle in my chest. The party buzzed around me powerful men talking in low voices, while women throwing fake smiles and whispered insults at each other.
I had never felt so alone in a room full of people.
It was humiliating, really.
A newly wedded wife, standing off to the side, abandoned, while her husband sat with his family and men, too busy talking business to acknowledge me. People noticed. They whispered, their gazes flickering to me with either pity or amusement.
“Already cast aside?” Their expressions seemed to say. “Poor thing”
I tightened my grip around my glass, keeping my face blank, but inside? A slow, simmering anger was building.
I could go to them, to the Romano family’s table.
I should.
But hesitation crept inside.
They were gathered around, deep in conversation, talking with guests, powerful men shaking hands and toasing to our marriage.
“You must be Elara Ashford.”
I heard a voice from behind me. It was sweet, too sweet, like poisoned honey.
I turned, only to be met with a walking cliché, overly bleached hair, a body wrapped in a dress that could barely pass as fabric, and an arrogant smirk plastered on her lips.
She looked me up and down, taking in my wedding ring with a mocking little laugh.
“You poor thing,” she purred, stepping closer. “I almost feel bad for you.”
I raised an eyebrow, unamused. “It’s Mrs. Elara Romano.”
The bimbo’s expression faltered for a second, just a flicker of something annoyed crossed her eyes. But she was quick to recover, flipping her hair over her shoulder and giving me a mocking little smile.
“Cute,” she mused, stepping closer as if she were doing me a favor. “But names don’t mean much in this world, sweetheart. Wearing his ring doesn’t mean you own him.”
I tilted my head, pretending to consider her words. ” is that so?”
Her smirk widened. “Oh, honey,” she purred, her voice dropping into something almost sympathetic, fake as hell. “I’ve had Dante long before you came into the picture. He needs a woman who knows how to please him.”
“Not a little girl like you.”
She took a slow sip of her champagne before leaning in, her voice dropping.
“Dante might have married you, sweetheart, but let’s get one thing straight, I’m the one who warms his bed.”
My grip on my glass tightened.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” She tilted her head, feigning sympathy. “He likes to play with his little toys. He makes me moan so loud, the whole damn estate knows his name. But I wouldn’t expect a wife to understand that.” She said loudly.
The blood in my veins boiled at her words. But I blankly looked at her dead in her eyes, tilting my head slightly. “Is that so?”
The bimbo’s smirk widened “Mm–hmm. And when he’s done parading you around like a good little wife, he’ll come back to me, where he belongs.”
I took a step closer, lowering my voice just enough to make her lean in. Good. Let her think she had the upper hand.
“You know what the beautiful words people like you are called with?”
Her smirk fadeing slowly.
1 let a slow, cold smirk tug at my lips before whispering-
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Chapter 20
“Whore.”
And then,in a flash, I poured the rest of my drink right onto her chest.
She gasped, stumbling back, eyes wide in horror.
“Oops.” I smiled, cold and sharp. “My hand must have slipped. Just like your dignity.”
The room went silent.
Eyes turned toward us, whispers spreading like wildfire.
The bimbo sputtered, her hands shaking as she wiped at her drenched dress.
“Y–you little-”
She looked ready to lunge at me, nails curling like claws, her face twisted in fury.
I almost laughed.
Did she really think she could touch me?
Pathetic.
Before she could move, my fingers slid down to my thigh, where the dagger was.
With one smooth motion, I pulled it free.
Gasps erupted around the room.
The bimbo barely had time to register the danger before I struck the blade in her throat.
She choked, stumbling back, her hands flying to her neck as a thin line of crimson trickled down her skin.
The sound she made was a strangled, horrified gurgle.
The room fell into dead silence.
Every single guest froze, watching.
She collapsed onto the floor, writhing, gasping, hands pressed against the wound. Not deep enough to kill her immediately, but enough to ensure she and people like her to not mess with me.
I crouched beside her, my dagger still dripping blood as I tilted my head.
“I don’t share, sweetheart.” My voice was calm, almost amused. “Next time, keep my husband’s name out of your filthy mouth.”
Her eyes widened in terror.
I straightened, flicking the blood off my blade like it was nothing.
“What’s going on here?”
Dante’s angry voice was heard beside me.
Before I could turn, before I could even think, he was already there.
One hand slid around my waist, pressing firmly against the small of my back, pulling me into his warmth. While his other hand, took my blood- stained fingers into his own.
My breath hitched as he lifted them, examining it. His thumb brushed over my palm as he said loud and clear.
“Are you hurt?”
It wasn’t a casual question. It was a demand, a quiet fury beneath his voice.
I had expected him to shout at me. Humiliate me in front of everyone.
But Dante didn’t even spare a glance at the woman choking on her blood behind me.
His entire focus was on me.
“It’s nothing, husband,” I murmured, biting my lip, feeling an unfamiliar flutter deep in my stomach.
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Chapter 20
Butterflies.
Fucking butterflies for Dante Romano.
His eyes flickered down to my lips for half a second, darkening, but instead of saying anything, he pulled out a small white handkerchief from his pocket.
Without a word, he took my hand in his, his touch gently began to wipe my fingers clean.
“Blood doesn’t look good on you, my wife.”
My heart skipped a beat.
His voice was smooth but there was something about the way he said “my wife“.
The way he touched me, careful but possessive, made my breath catch in my throat.
“Clean this mess.”
His voice turned cold as he flicked his gaze toward his men.
The guards immediately moved, dragging her away.
“D–Dante, how can you take her said this bitc-”
Lena’s shriek cut through the air, but she stopped the moment Dante’s eyes snapped to her.
His expression was of pure disgust.
“Lena, You dare mess with my wife? Know your place,” Dante warned, his tone was low, deadly. “Or I won’t be as lenient as my wife. You know that.”
A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at my lips before I even realized it.
Dante’s grip tightened around my waist, his lips brushing my ear. “You handled yourself well tonight, wife.”
His fingers traced my lover back slowly, possessively. “Bravery deserves a reward, don’t you think?”
“Tonight, I’ll have you trembling for an entirely different reason.”
I swallowed hard, my pulse a violent storm.
Dante smirked, tilting my chin up. “Be ready, Elara. I don’t do gentle.”
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