9. Chiara
9
CHIARA
I blink awake, the gentle warmth of the sun on my face and the sound of chirping birds filling my ears. For a moment, I feel peaceful and content. Then, suddenly, realization hits me like a bucket of ice water.
I jolt upright, my heart racing. “Dante!” I hiss, shaking him awake. “Dante, wake up!”
He stirs, his eyes fluttering open in confusion as he looks around. “Chiara? What’s wrong?”
“We fell asleep,” I say, panic rising in my voice. “We’re still in the clearing!”
Dante sits up quickly, suddenly alert. I grab his wrist, looking at his watch. My stomach drops when I see the time.
“It’s 8 AM!” I gasp, my voice rising with fear. “Oh, God, Dante, the maids would have tried to wake me up already. They’ll know I’m not in my room!”
I scramble to my feet, my mind racing with all the possible consequences. If anyone discovers I’ve been out all night—with a man, no less—my reputation will be ruined.
And if they find out it was Dante…
“We have to go,” I say, my voice trembling. “Now. Before anyone realizes…”
Dante nods, and we quickly gather our things, throwing our clothes on. As we hurry back toward the estate, I can feel panic clawing at my throat. How am I going to explain this? What if someone saw us? What if…
I touch the locket around my neck, the weight of it suddenly feeling like an anchor. Last night, it was a symbol of our love. Now, it feels like a dangerous secret.
As we reach the edge of the forest, I turn to Dante, fear and love warring in my heart. “What are we going to do?” I whisper, the reality of our situation crashing down around us.
As we hurry toward the house, my heart nearly stops. Through the windows, I can hear raised voices and see people rushing about.
And I can also see not just my family, but Rork and Dominico as well.
Both my brothers-in-law are there, joining in the search. The sight of them makes my blood run cold.
“Oh, God,” I whimper, my knees suddenly weak. “ Dante , if they’re both here…”
Dante’s arm quickly wraps around my waist, supporting me as I sway on my feet before letting go. “It’s going to be okay, Chiara,” he whispers, though I can hear the uncertainty in his voice. “Now, here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll try to create a distraction?—”
But before he can finish, I see the front door of the house burst open. My father storms out, his face a mask of worry and anger. Behind him, I catch glimpses of Rork’s scarred face and Dominico’s calculating gaze.
“Dante, you have to leave!” I hiss urgently, hysteria coloring my voice. “If they see us together?—”
Dante nods, quickly reaching for his pack. But in his haste, he loses his grip. The pack tumbles into the nearby shrubbery with a loud rustle.
All three of the men’s heads snap in our direction.
“Chiara?” my father calls out, his voice a mix of relief and suspicion. “Dante? What’s going on here?”
I freeze, my mind blank with panic. Dante stands rigid beside me, his face a carefully controlled mask.
Papa’s face darkens as he takes in the scene before him. His eyes narrow, flicking between me in my nightgown and Dante standing tensely beside me.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demands, his voice low and dangerous.
I can see Dante open his mouth to speak, but I quickly cut in, my heart racing.
“Papa, it’s not what you think,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady even though my heart is beating at a million miles an hour. “I–I couldn’t sleep after the news of my betrothal. I went for a walk early this morning to clear my head. Dante found me and insisted on bringing me back home.”
I can feel Dante’s eyes on me, but I don’t dare look at him. Instead, I keep my gaze fixed on my father, silently willing him to believe me.
Rork steps forward, his scarred face twisted in a scowl. “A walk? In your nightclothes ?” His tone is skeptical, his eyes hard as they bore into me.
Dominico remains silent, but I can see the wheels turning behind his calculating gaze. He doesn’t look convinced, his eyes flicking between Dante and me as if piecing together a puzzle.
“I… I wasn’t thinking clearly,” I stammer, feeling the weight of their disbelief. “I just needed to get out, to breathe.”
Papa eyes Dante and me suspiciously, the tension palpable in the air. I hold my breath, silently praying he’ll believe my hastily constructed story.
After what feels like an eternity, Papa’s expression softens slightly. “Thank you, Dante, for bringing my daughter safely home,” he says, his tone still carrying an edge of suspicion. “You may go now.”
He turns to me, his voice gentler but reproachful. “Chiara, you should know better than to go out without telling anyone. Even with guards, it’s not safe to wander alone.”
I nod, lowering my eyes. “Yes, Papa. I’m sorry.”
“Go get ready,” he continues. “The Avilovs will be arriving shortly.”
My head snaps up, shock coursing through me. “What? But… I thought I had more time.”
Papa chuckles, though there’s little humor in it. “It seems your future husband is eager to meet you. They’ve moved up their visit to today.”
The blood drains from my face. Beside me, I can sense Dante tensing further, though he maintains his stoic expression.
Overwhelmed, I turn to Dante, feeling lost and frightened. Every fiber of my being wants to seek comfort in his arms, but I know I can’t. The pain of this forced distance is almost unbearable.
Dante’s face is a mask of rigid control as he says, “I wish you luck, Miss Marino. Good day.” His voice is painfully formal, devoid of the warmth I’m used to.
The formality stings, and I can’t help the flash of hurt that crosses my face. But I quickly compose myself, returning his goodbye with equal stiffness. “Thank you, Dante. Good day.”
As I follow my father into the house, I can feel Dante’s eyes on me. It takes every ounce of willpower not to look back, not to run to him and throw caution to the wind.
The last thing I see before the door closes is Dominico and Rork standing there, their expressions unreadable. The weight of their gazes, of the secret I’m carrying, of the impending meeting with my supposed future husband—it all crashes down on me at once.
I’ve never felt more alone, more trapped , than I do in this moment. And I have no idea how I’m going to face what’s coming next.
“Chiara!”
I’m engulfed by a flurry of worried faces and voices.
“Chiara!” my mother cries again, tears in her eyes as she pulls me into a tight embrace. “Where on earth were you? We thought something terrible had happened!”
Sofia, Bianca, and Mia crowd around us, their faces a mix of relief and concern.
Before I can respond, Papa’s voice cuts through the commotion. “Chiara went for an early morning walk and stumbled upon Dante, who escorted her home.”
I feel a moment of relief that he’s sticking to my story, but it’s short-lived.
Bianca raises an eyebrow, her tone skeptical. “Dante, huh? Well, it was good luck that he was around to find you.”
I avoid her gaze, knowing she can read me too well.
But I can also feel Sofia’s eyes on me, and when I meet her gaze, it’s as if she’s looking right through me. I shift uncomfortably under her scrutiny.
Suddenly, Sofia turns to Papa. “I’m surprised you haven’t doubled security since Bianca and I have been married, Papa. Chiara and Mia are still unmarried, after all.”
The room goes silent. Papa’s eyebrow raises, his voice deceptively light but with a dangerous undercurrent. “Are you questioning whether I’m protecting my daughters enough, Sofia?”
I want to flee, but I’m rooted to the spot. Sofia, however, doesn’t flinch.
“Not at all, Papa,” she says calmly. “I’m merely suggesting that as circumstances change, so too should your precautions. Especially with Chiara’s betrothal approaching.”
“And what additional security measures would you recommend, mia figlia ?”
My sister meets his gaze steadily. “I would suggest increasing the number of guards patrolling the grounds, especially at night. Perhaps installing more security cameras, particularly around the girls’ rooms and the less visible areas of the estate. And maybe implementing a stricter check-in system for anyone entering or leaving the property, even family members and close associates.”
For a moment, tension crackles in the air. I hold my breath, worried about how Papa will react to Sofia’s bold suggestions. I would never dream of doing so.
Then, to everyone’s surprise, Papa’s face breaks into a proud smile. He strides over to Sofia, grasps her shoulders, and plants a kiss on her forehead.
“You’re truly your father’s daughter, Sofia,” he says, his voice warm with approval. “Your suggestions are excellent. We’ll implement them immediately.”
Sofia beams under Papa’s praise, while I feel my heart sink even further. Each new security measure she’s suggested feels like another nail in the coffin of my secret meetings with Dante.
Papa turns back to me, his expression serious once more. “You hear that, Chiara? No more sneaking out, understood? It’s for your own safety.”
I nod, trying to keep the despair from showing on my face. “Yes, Papa. I understand.”
“Show off,” Bianca mutters.
Sofia whips around, her eyes flashing. “Seriously, Bianca? Just because you live in the middle of nowhere doesn’t mean proper security precautions shouldn’t be in place. Or have you forgotten that we’ve always been targets for kidnapping?”
I’m taken aback by the intensity in Sofia’s voice, wondering what’s sparked such a strong reaction. Mia looks equally as shocked, but Bianca seems unfazed.
She examines her nails with exaggerated boredom. “My estate is protected, thank you very much.”
Sofia rolls her eyes. “Oh, yes, so protected. Just like when Papa and Dominico’s forces managed to catch Rork’s soldiers by surprise last year?”
Bianca’s head snaps up, her face flushing with anger. For a moment, I think she might actually lunge at Sofia.
Before the situation can escalate further, Mama’s stern voice cuts through the tension. “Sofia, Bianca, that’s enough. Knock it off, both of you. You two are acting like children instead of married women. Especially you, Bianca, since you’re also a mother. Today is Chiara’s day. Let’s not argue.”
As Mama begins to usher me upstairs to prepare for the Avilovs’ arrival, I catch Sofia’s eye. There's a knowing look there, a mixture of sympathy and warning that makes me wonder just how much she's guessed about my early morning “walk”.
I climb the stairs, my mind racing. With these new security measures, how will I ever manage to see Dante again? And how can I face my supposed future husband when the man I love might as well be on the other side of the world now?