Dante Moretti

The rain fell with the same constancy as the fear in his chest. Lucía held the hem of her white dress, trying not to stumble as she climbed the marble stairs. Each step echoed like a sentence. Outside, camera flashes captured the spectacle of a love that didn't exist. Inside, the Moretti mansion smelled of power, money… and old blood.

That wasn't a marriage. It was a deal signed out of fear. Her father had told her it was “for the good of the family,” that Dante Moretti, the youngest and most ambitious boss in the north, would protect her. But Lucia knew what that meant: becoming property.

The man waiting for her at the end of the corridor wasn't smiling. His gaze was cold, calculating, and yet… there was something about his silence that terrified her more than the rumors about his crimes.

When the priest asked if she accepted, Lucia looked up. For a moment, she wanted to scream, run, disappear. But the guards' hands in the shadows reminded her that she had no choice. So she swallowed her tears, raised her chin, and uttered the biggest lie of her life:

—Yes, I accept.

And at that moment, their fate was sealed with a kiss that tasted like a death sentence.