Chapter 6 - Forged in Fire
The aftermath of the attack left the compound buzzing with adrenaline. While Enzo and the men secured the perimeter and interrogated a surviving mercenary, Dante led Aria up to the master suite.
She was covered in dust, her hands still shaking with the aftershocks of taking a life—or nearly taking one.
Dante led her into the massive, marble-tiled bathroom. He turned on the warm water at the sink, took a clean washcloth, and gently began wiping the soot and dirt from her face and hands. His touch was painstakingly tender, a stark contrast to the ruthless killer he had been ten minutes ago.
"You didn't have to do that," Dante said quietly, examining a small scrape on her knuckles.
"He was going to kill you," Aria replied, her voice trembling. The adrenaline was finally leaving her system, leaving a hollow, aching vulnerability in its wake. "I couldn't... I couldn't let them take you away from me."
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Dante froze. He looked up, his dark eyes locking onto hers. The invisible wall they had maintained between them—the wall of trauma, duty, and respect—crumbled into dust.
A tear spilled over Aria’s lashes. She didn't flinch away when Dante reached up to wipe it away with his thumb.
"Aria," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I promised I wouldn't touch you until you wanted me to."
"I want you to," she breathed, stepping into his chest, grabbing the lapels of his ruined shirt. "Dante, please. Make me forget them. Make me yours."
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When Dante kissed her, it wasn't a tentative spark; it was a wildfire. It was years of restraint breaking apart. He picked her up effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist, and carried her into the bedroom.
There was no fear left in her. Only a desperate, consuming heat. That night, the marriage was truly sealed—not by a contract signed in blood, but by a choice made in love.
