3. Virgin?

Isla heard the heavy footsteps before she saw him. She had been in the library, her sanctuary in this mansion, nestled among bookshelves taller than she’d ever seen. She could almost convince herself she was somewhere else here, maybe a different life altogether. But then Dante’s presence broke that fragile illusion.

“Isla.” His deep voice cut through the silence as he entered, his gaze tracking her from the doorway. There was something intense about his presence tonight, something she couldn’t quite name.

She marked her place in the book before looking up. “Dante,” she replied softly, unsure of what to expect. He was rarely around during the day, his time consumed by meetings and dealings she didn’t know the details of. Yet he had a way of appearing when she least expected him, filling the air with an unpredictable energy.

He walked toward her, his gaze steady, revealing nothing. “How was your day?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes assessing. It was an odd question, coming from him.

She shrugged, trying to keep her voice even. “Quiet, as usual.”

Dante nodded, as if he’d expected that answer. He watched her for a moment, his eyes drifting over her with a kind of detached curiosity. “There’s something I need to know, Isla,” he said, his voice lowering slightly, holding an edge that made her pulse quicken.

Her heartbeat stuttered. “What do you mean?”

He tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “Are you a virgin?”

The question landed like a stone, and Isla felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She swallowed hard, struggling to keep her composure, but the question left her feeling vulnerable, exposed.

“Why would you ask that?” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dante shrugged, his eyes glinting with a strange intensity. “It’s a fair question. You’re mine, Isla, and I want to know everything about you.”

A part of her wanted to lash out, to deny him the satisfaction of knowing such an intimate detail. But she also knew that her defiance would likely lead to consequences she wasn’t prepared to face. So she took a steadying breath, meeting his gaze head-on.

“Yes,” she replied, her voice firm. “I am.”

For a brief moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something like satisfaction in his eyes, but it was gone before she could fully register it. He gave a slow, approving nod, as though her answer had confirmed something for him.

“Good,” he said simply, his tone carrying an edge of finality. “That will make things easier.”

Isla felt a shiver run down her spine. “Easier for what?”

Dante didn’t answer. Instead, he turned, pacing the room with that same controlled intensity, as though he were calculating his next move. She watched him, her own thoughts racing, her heart pounding in her chest. There was something about his silence that unnerved her, that made her feel like a pawn on a chessboard she didn’t understand.

After a moment, he stopped, looking back at her with that same inscrutable expression. “You’re here for a reason, Isla. And whether you realize it or not, your role here is important.”

She folded her arms, a faint defiance sparking in her eyes. “Important? To whom? You?”

Dante’s mouth curved into a faint smirk, but there was no humor in it. “To a great many people, Isla. More than you know.”

She felt a surge of frustration, a helpless anger that bubbled up in her chest. “I didn’t ask for any of this,” she whispered, her voice laced with a quiet fury.

He held her gaze, unmoved by her defiance. “Perhaps not. But we rarely get to choose our fates.”

Isla clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. “And what if I want to leave?”

Dante’s expression hardened, his gaze sharpening. “That’s not an option, Isla. You’re part of this now, whether you like it or not.”

She felt her shoulders sag, the weight of his words pressing down on her. “Why me?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

For a long moment, he didn’t answer, as though he were considering his response. Finally, he stepped closer, his gaze holding hers with a fierce intensity. “Because you have something that others don’t. A strength, a resilience that most people lack. I can see it in you, Isla.”

His words, though unexpected, left her feeling exposed, as though he’d seen into her soul. She wanted to look away, to break the intensity of his gaze, but she found herself unable to move.

“You may not understand it yet,” he continued, his voice low and steady, “but you have a purpose here. A role to play in something much larger than yourself.”

Isla felt a flicker of fear, a sense of dread that gnawed at her insides. She didn’t want to be a part of whatever world he was building around her, but she could sense that resistance would be futile.

Dante’s expression shifted, hardening in a way that made Isla’s pulse spike with a mix of fear and defiance. In one swift movement, he reached out, his hand closing firmly around her arm. Before she could protest, he pulled her close and pinned her to the wall, his body towering over her, his grip unyielding.

His eyes bore into hers, dark and unrelenting. “Tomorrow,” he said, his voice a low, threatening murmur, “be ready for the auction.”

The words sent a chill down her spine, her mind reeling at the implication. She struggled against his hold, her heart racing, but Dante’s grip only tightened, anchoring her in place. She could feel the intensity in his gaze, the warning in his tone, and any words she wanted to say died on her lips.

“Understand?” he asked, his tone sharp, leaving no room for negotiation.

She forced herself to meet his gaze, swallowing down the fear that threatened to overtake her. “Why… why me?” she whispered, barely able to find her voice.

A flicker of something she couldn’t read crossed his face, but he quickly masked it. “Because you’re mine, Isla,” he replied, his voice colder than she’d ever heard it. “And I do what I want with what’s mine.”