Today is the day of the engagement.
But here I am, sitting in front of my parents' graves.
I place the bouquet I brought gently across the cold headstones.
"I'm getting engaged today," I whisper, caressing my father's grave like I would soothe a child. My voice quivers. "I'm sorry, Father. Never thought I'd end up marrying your enemy's son… but I have no choice. I have to save Luca."
A tear builds at the corner of my eye, but I blink it back before it falls.
I place my other hand over my mother's grave.
"Mom," I murmur, "I'm getting engaged to Dante today. But it's not the happy marriage you dreamed of—it's a bloodbath. This marriage isn't about love. It's about destruction. Either I destroy Dante and his entire family… or he destroys me and mine."
My mother always wished I would marry Dante.
"You know, Dante and Aria will make a good couple when they grow," she once said to my father. He was standing by the kitchen counter, slicing apples for us. Even as a ruthless, fearless leader, he made time for us—cooking, playing, loving.
"Hmm, they will," he had grunted. I was playing with twenty-month-old Luca in his crib, giggling, unaware of the darkness looming over our world.
"They'll have this grand, beautiful, expensive wedding that will shake the underworld," my mother added, eyes gleaming with hope.
"Well, that's if they grow to love each other."
Dante and I used to be cat and mouse. He was the serious type—moody, angry, always carrying the weight of the world. I was the jovial one, always trying to pull him into my games, into laughter.
But that girl… that version of me… died a long time ago.
"They will," she said with confidence, biting into a slice of apple. "I just have this feeling that Aria will be the one to bring Dante out of his misery. That boy is too young to be so dark-minded and ruthless. Russell's training is too harsh on him."
But today…
Here I am, getting engaged to him. And instead of being the light in his darkness, I'll be the one to snuff it out completely. I'll destroy him. I'll shatter him.
I'm sorry, Mommy.
"Let's go," I say to the driver as I slide into the car.
***
The Moretti estate is flooded with guests and reporters.
Cameras flank the marble staircase. Paparazzi line the iron gates like vultures. Everyone wants a glimpse of the union no one saw coming.
The infamous Dante Moretti—preaching bloodless peace.
And Aria Morello—the daughter of the fallen Don—walking willingly into the arms of the family that ended hers.
The media calls it a fairytale.
I call it a hunt.
"Smile, Aria," my uncle mutters beside me as we stand at the entrance of the grand parlor inside the Moretti mansion.
I force a smile.
But it vanishes the moment I see Dante approaching.
I try to mask the fury in my chest, but eyes never lie.
"My lady," he says smoothly, playing the gentleman, bowing slightly as he takes my hand. He presses a kiss to my knuckles.
I shudder at the contact. I hate the way it makes my skin crawl. He catches it—and smirks.
I swear, I will fucking destroy this asshole.
"Shall we?" he asks, gesturing toward the front where the rings rest in a golden palette.
I silently pray the ring won't fit.
Camera flashes spark from every corner of the hall. Everyone wants the perfect shot for tomorrow's headlines:
Dante Moretti gets engaged to Aria Morello.
Fire burns through my veins as the engagement ring slides onto my finger.
It fits. Perfectly.
"Surprised the ring fits?" Dante whispers against my ear, brushing a strand of hair behind it. "Don't be, baby girl. You didn't think I'd marry you without knowing everything single thing about you… including your bra and panty size."
My breath hitches. He leans back with that smug, arrogant expression.
It's my turn. I hesitate.
Every inch of me wants to run. I don't want this. I don't want him. I only want revenge.
And I know I can't destroy him without destroying myself, too.
But I welcome that. I've already been destroyed. Fourteen years ago.
If I could, I'd blow this entire fucking hall to hell with grenades.
But I can't risk innocent lives.
That's what has stopped me all these years.
"It's your turn, Aria," my uncle's voice cuts through my storming thoughts.
My eyes find Dante's. He stares back—blank, unreadable.
I slide the ring onto his finger, gripping it tight.
Then I rise on my toes, leaning into his ear as I dust off his blazer like I'm fixing something.
"You. Will. Fucking. Regret. Messing. With. Me. Sweetheart."
I feel the throb of his pulse at his neck.
Good.
I press my fingers a little tighter around his. I want to break it. Snap it.
But the bastard doesn't even flinch.
Our gazes lock.
And then—that smirk.
The same fucking smirk. The one that dares me. The one that says, Bring it on, baby girl.
I step back, still staring at him, until a voice breaks the tension.
"Mr. Moretti, can you please move closer? Let's get a couple shot of you and your fiancée."
Fiancée.
The word hits like lightning—loud, hot, and ready to burn everything down.
"Time for some pictures, baby girl," Dante murmurs, wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling me close.
My body almost leans into him entirely.
My head is close enough to his chest to hear his heartbeat—if he even has one.
I feel small next to him. Trapped.
His tall, six-foot-eight frame swallows mine whole. I'm five-foot- six, even in heels, and I still feel like a child next to him.
But I'm not afraid.
I have fire. I have purpose. I have a goal.
And goals—goals are what carry people across oceans of pain.
My goal is destruction.
To destroy Dante Moretti.
The son of Russell Moretti.
No—Russell Moretti's most valuable asset.
And with him, his entire goddamned empire.