Chapter 3 - The Smiling Viper
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The black town car pulled into the circular driveway just as the rain began to taper off into a cold mist. Dante stood at the top of the marble staircase, watching the heavy front doors open.
Victoria stepped into the foyer. She wore a tailored crimson coat, her blonde hair falling in perfect, immaculate waves. She carried a sleek designer handbag and a smile that could disarm a firing squad. She handed her wet umbrella to a waiting guard and looked up, her eyes brightening with manufactured joy the moment she saw him.
"Dante, darling," Victoria purred, ascending the stairs with effortless grace.
She reached the landing and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against his jaw. She smelled of expensive vanilla and cold rain.
"How were the wedding preparations in the city?" Dante asked smoothly. His hands rested on her waist, applying just enough pressure to mimic affection.
"Exhausting," Victoria sighed delicately, pulling back to look into his eyes. "The florists are arguing about the orchid arrangements, and my father is already complaining about the seating chart. I just wanted to come home to you."
"You are home now," Dante said, his voice a low, soothing baritone. "Everything is exactly where it belongs."
"You work too hard," she murmured, tracing the lapel of his dark suit. "You've been in your study all afternoon. You need to relax."
"I was just finishing some final contracts before the ceremony," Dante replied, watching her eyes carefully.
For a fraction of a second, her pupils dilated. A micro-expression of anticipation. She thought she had him entirely fooled. She thought she was days away from stripping the Moretti empire to the bone.
"Well, no more contracts tonight," Victoria smiled, taking his hand. "Let's have dinner. Just the two of us."
"Actually," Dante said, leading her toward the grand dining room, "I've asked the cook to prepare something special. Elena has been working tirelessly."
Victoria’s smile stiffened, just barely. "The cook? Is her noisy little brat running around the kitchen again? You really should speak to her, Dante. It’s highly unprofessional to have a child in the main house."
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"Sophia is a very observant child," Dante said softly, pulling out Victoria's chair. "You never know what a child might see."
Victoria froze halfway down into her seat, her blue eyes snapping up to meet his. But Dante was already pouring the wine, his face an impenetrable mask of calm.
