Isla's POV
Rossi's restaurant was where movie stars ate dinner and politicians made deals. The kind of place I'd never belonged, even when I was engaged to Marcus.
Now I walked in on Dante Salvatore's arm, and every single person turned to stare.
"Smile," Dante whispered. "You're madly in love with me, remember?"
I plastered on a smile. My cheeks hurt.
The hostess nearly tripped rushing to greet us. "Mr. Salvatore! Your usual table is ready."
"Thank you, Maria." Dante's hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the restaurant.
People whispered. Phones appeared. At least five people were taking pictures.
"They're staring," I hissed.
"Good. That's the point." Dante pulled out my chair. "We want them to see us together. To talk. To post about it."
I sat down, trying to look natural. Like I ate at restaurants with crystal chandeliers every night.
A waiter appeared instantly with champagne. "Compliments of the house, Mr. Salvatore."
"How thoughtful." Dante raised his glass. "To new beginnings."
I clinked my glass against his, acutely aware of the dozen phones pointed our direction. "This is terrifying."
"You're doing fine."
"I feel like an imposter."
"Everyone's an imposter, Isla. The trick is making people believe you anyway." He sipped his champagne, scanning the room. "Don't look now, but Marcus Wellington just walked in."
My stomach dropped. "What?"
"Three tables behind you. With Victoria. They saw us."
Every muscle tensed. "I can't do this."
"Yes, you can." Dante reached across the table and took my hand. His fingers were warm, steady. "Look at me. Only me. Forget they exist."
I forced myself to meet his eyes. Storm-gray, intense, completely focused on me.
"Better," he said softly. "Now laugh like I said something charming."
"You didn't say anything charming."
"Then pretend I did."
I laughed. It came out shaky but real enough.
Dante smiled—a real smile this time, not his shark smile. "See? Natural."
"Nothing about this is natural."
The waiter returned for our orders. Dante ordered for both of us without asking. Normally that would annoy me, but right now I was grateful. My brain couldn't handle decisions.
"They're still staring," I said when the waiter left.
"Of course they are. You're beautiful, you're with me, and everyone knows your story." Dante leaned back. "Let them stare. Let them wonder."
"What if they come over?"
"They won't. Marcus is a coward. He'll stare from a distance and seethe."
"How do you know?"
"Because I've dealt with a thousand Marcus Wellingtons in my career. Weak men who only feel powerful crushing people weaker than them." Dante's expression hardened. "He picked you because he thought you'd never fight back. He's about to learn how wrong he was."
Our food arrived—something fancy I couldn't pronounce. I picked at it, too nervous to eat.
"Isla." Dante's voice dropped low. "Look at me."
I did.
"You're better than him. Better than all of them. The only reason they tried to destroy you is because they were afraid of what you'd become if you realized your own worth."
My throat tightened. "You don't know that."
"I know exactly that. I've been the underestimated bastard my whole life." His jaw clenched. "I know what it's like when people dismiss you, use you, assume you'll never fight back. And I know what it's like to prove them wrong."
"Is that what happened to you?"
"Different story, same lesson. Never let them see you break." He squeezed my hand. "And if you do break, break in private. Rebuild in secret. Return as someone they can't recognize."
I wanted to ask more, but movement caught my eye. Victoria was walking toward our table.
"Dante," I whispered urgently.
"I see her. Stay calm."
Victoria stopped at our table, perfect smile in place. Up close, I could see the malice in her eyes.
"Isla! What a surprise seeing you here." Her voice dripped false sweetness. "And who's this?"
"Dante Salvatore." He didn't stand, didn't offer his hand. Just looked at her like she was nothing.
Victoria's smile faltered. Everyone knew who Dante Salvatore was.
"How... nice," she managed. "Isla, I didn't know you were seeing anyone."
"There's a lot you don't know about me, Victoria." My voice came out steadier than I felt.
"We've been together for a while," Dante said smoothly. "Kept it private. You understand."
Victoria's eyes narrowed. "How long is 'a while'?"
"Long enough." Dante's tone made it clear the conversation was over.
"Well." Victoria's smile turned sharp. "I hope you know what you're getting into. Isla has a tendency to fall apart under pressure."
The words hit like a slap. I felt myself shrinking, becoming small again.
Then Dante stood. Slowly. He was tall, powerful, radiating danger.
"And you have a tendency to prey on people you think are weak," he said quietly. "But Isla's not weak anymore. She's mine. And I protect what's mine."
Victoria's face went pale. "I was just—"
"Leaving. You were just leaving." Dante's smile was pure ice. "Give my regards to Marcus. Tell him I'm looking forward to our next business meeting."
Victoria practically ran back to her table.
I was shaking.
Dante sat back down like nothing happened. "Breathe, Isla."
"You just—"
"Defended you. That's what husbands do. Even fake ones."
"She looked terrified."
"Good. She should be." Dante took a sip of champagne. "Never let them think they can push you around. Not anymore."
I watched Victoria whisper frantically to Marcus across the restaurant. Marcus's face had gone red.
"He's angry," I said.
"Let him be angry. Angry people make mistakes. We'll use those mistakes against him."
"You really meant it? About the business meeting?"
"Marcus's company is circling the drain. He'll come begging for investors soon. When he does, I'll destroy him." Dante cut his steak precisely. "But that's business. Tonight is about showing everyone you've moved on. Upgraded, even."
"Upgraded," I repeated. "From Marcus to you."
"Significant upgrade. I'm much richer and far more dangerous."
I laughed despite myself. "And so humble."
"Humility is for people who have something to prove. I don't." He met my eyes. "Eat something. You need your strength. We have a wedding to plan."
"Three days," I said. "That's insane."
"That's strategic. The faster we move, the less time anyone has to interfere." He checked his phone. "We've already made TMZ. 'Jilted Heiress Spotted with Billionaire Bachelor.' The internet is exploding."
My stomach twisted. "What are they saying?"
"Exactly what we want them to say. That you moved on. That you're winning." He showed me his phone.
Comments flooded the post: She looks AMAZING. Dante Salvatore??? She upgraded big time. Marcus is probably crying right now lol.
"See?" Dante pocketed his phone. "Public opinion is shifting. By tomorrow, you won't be 'the jilted bride' anymore. You'll be 'the woman who landed Dante Salvatore.'"
"It's all fake though."
"They don't know that. And they never will." He leaned forward. "This is how you win, Isla. You control the narrative. You make them see what you want them to see."
I looked at him—this stranger I'd agreed to marry, this dangerous man giving me the tools for revenge.
"Why are you really helping me?" I asked.
"I told you. I need a wife."
"There are easier wives. Less complicated ones."
Dante was quiet for a moment. "Maybe I like complicated. Maybe I see something in you that you don't see in yourself yet."
"What?"
"A fighter. You just needed someone to show you how to fight."
The waiter brought dessert. Around us, the restaurant hummed with conversation. Marcus and Victoria left without saying goodbye, slinking out like wounded animals.
I felt something shift inside me. Something hard and sharp and new.
"Dante?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For making me feel powerful instead of broken."
He smiled. Not his shark smile. Something softer. Almost real.
"You were always powerful, Isla. You just needed the right stage."
We finished dinner under chandeliers and camera flashes.
Tomorrow, our engagement would be official.
In three days, I'd become Mrs. Salvatore.
And then the real revenge would begin.