"The night carried a strange feeling inside the mention,as through the walls themselves waited for Dante's next move.Ava felt it too –the inevitability,the storm to control the desire that always seemed to follow him,tonight is so special,the Don will make is claim."
The Moretti estate gleamed that night with lights strung across the sprawling gardens, glass chandeliers glowing inside the vast ballroom, and the air buzzing with laughter, music, and the soft clinking of champagne glasses. It wasn't just any gathering—it was a celebration of power, of legacy. And tonight, Dante Moretti had chosen this moment for something far more personal.
Ava had been nervous from the moment she stepped into the glittering hall. The Moretti mansion had always been intimidating, with its high marble columns and guarded doors, but tonight it seemed even larger, filled with faces that turned curiously in her direction. Powerful men in sleek suits, women draped in diamonds and silk. And then there was her.
She smoothed down the hem of her black dress—one Dante had chosen for her, with a neckline that both empowered and unnerved her. His hand rested at the small of her back, steadying her as they moved through the crowd together.
"Relax," Dante's voice was a low murmur against her ear. "You belong here."
Her heart hammered. Do I? She wanted to believe him, wanted to silence the doubt clawing at her chest. But every sideways glance, every curious whisper made her wonder if these people saw her as Dante's partner—or just another woman he'd picked up for the night.
Isabella's words from days ago still echoed in her mind: "One of Dante's whore "
But then Dante's fingers tightened at her back as he guided her to the center of the room.
The music softened. The conversations dimmed. And suddenly, all eyes were on them.
Dante raised his glass, commanding silence without effort. He didn't need to shout; his presence alone was enough.
"Family," he began, his deep voice reverberating across the hall. "Friends. Tonight, we celebrate not just business or loyalty, but life. For what is power without those we hold dear?"
A ripple of murmurs traveled through the crowd. Ava's stomach twisted, her palms damp. She hadn't known he would speak.
And then Dante turned slightly, his arm sliding around her waist in full view of everyone. His dark eyes locked on hers, softer than she'd ever seen them, before lifting back to the crowd.
"Many of you have wondered who this woman is beside me," he continued. "Let me be clear—she is not a passing face. She is not a guest here tonight. She is Ava. The woman who holds my attention… and my respect."
Gasps, murmurs, and a few sharp intakes of breath followed.
Ava froze. Respect? From Dante Moretti, the Don feared by so many? Her heart nearly stopped when he lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles before the entire gathering.
"She is mine," Dante declared, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "And as such, she is one of you. Treat her as you would treat me."
The words slammed through the room like a thunderclap. In mafia culture, it wasn't just a declaration—it was protection, a shield, a claim of permanence.
Ava's throat tightened. She couldn't breathe. He had just tethered her to him in front of the most powerful people in the city.
Applause erupted, polite but cautious. Some smiled. Others studied her with a new, sharper gaze.
And then there was Isabella.
Standing near the edge of the crowd, Isabella's smile faltered, her champagne glass trembling slightly in her hand. Her dark eyes burned as she stared at Ava, a storm hidden behind her carefully composed expression.
No. This isn't happening.
For years, Isabella had believed it was only a matter of time before Dante saw her, truly saw her, and realized she was the only one fit to stand by his side. She had waited through his flings, his business distractions, his icy detachment—confident that her loyalty would one day be rewarded.
And now? Now he had chosen her.
Ava.A Nobody. A stranger who had stumbled into his life.
Heat rose in Isabella's chest, fury coiling like a snake. She forced her lips into a tight smile when Dante glanced her way, but inside, jealousy gnawed at her like fire on dry wood.
If Dante won't see the truth, I'll show him. I'll show everyone who she really is.
After the toast, the crowd began to disperse into groups of chatter and laughter. Dante excused himself briefly to speak with his uncle, leaving Ava by the refreshment table, trying to steady her nerves.
Her heart was still racing. She didn't know whether to be overwhelmed with pride or crushed by the weight of Dante's claim. He had put her in the spotlight—and part of her thrilled at it. Another part trembled, afraid of what it meant.
That was when Isabella approached.
"Quite the performance," Isabella said smoothly, her voice sweet like poisoned honey.
Ava stiffened, turning to face her. Isabella looked stunning, of course—her emerald dress hugging her curves, her hair a cascade of perfect waves. But her smile was razor-sharp.
"I suppose congratulations are in order," Isabella continued, her gaze sweeping over Ava as if she were something bought at an auction. "Dante has… interesting taste."
Ava's lips parted, but no words came. Isabella leaned closer, lowering her voice.
"Enjoy the spotlight while it lasts. Don't think a kiss on the hand makes you untouchable. Men like Dante don't settle. Sooner or later, he'll remember who's truly worthy of standing beside him."
Ava's pulse pounded in her ears. She wanted to snap back, to defend herself—but the venom in Isabella's eyes rooted her to the spot.
And then Isabella's smile widened, chilling.
"You'll see, Ava," she whispered. "You're just a shadow in his world. And shadows always fade."
With that, Isabella glided away, her laughter ringing like crystal shattering on marble.
Ava stood frozen, her glass trembling in her hand. Anger, insecurity, and fear warred inside her chest. Part of her wanted to believe Dante's gesture tonight meant she was safe, secure. But another part whispered doubts: What if Isabella is right? What if I'm only temporary?
She clenched her jaw, staring after Isabella's retreating figure.
No. She couldn't let that woman get to her. Not tonight.
"Dante's lips hovered against her ear,his grip firm,his voice a vow and a warning all at once.
'You don't understand yet Ava,'he whispered darkly.`you're not just in my world–you're my world.And now the whole city know it".