Free Web NovelChapter 42: Love Comes
Dora got into the car right beside Dante even as she mentally prepared herself for whatever she was going to have to deal with. The car moved quickly, the hum of the engine steady, and since it was morning, the weather looked clear and calm. But Isadora found it hard to focus on anything except the sharp awareness that Dante was seated right beside her.
The memory of the night they had almost shared flickered through her mind, heat rising in her cheeks as she balled her fists on her lap and stared out the window, seeing nothing. Dante was extremely good-looking—too much so—and his hair, a pale shade of white, gave him an exotic, striking appearance that always caught her off guard.
His frame was tall and lean, yet every movement revealed strength. She couldn’t help recalling the sight of his bare chest the night before—smooth skin stretched over muscle, too perfect to belong to anyone ordinary. Her thoughts kept drifting back there before she forced her face blank, staring outside and pretending to admire the passing scenery.
The car continued to glide smoothly, the roads widening as they left behind the noise of the city. The world outside began to change—the houses larger, the trees neatly aligned, the air cleaner. Everything looked organized, expensive, and intentional, as though they were crossing into another kind of life entirely.
Soon Isadora realized they were heading into a part of the city she hadn’t known existed. The car drove through wide gates lined with ornate designs, each one opening silently as they approached. Every gate seemed to whisper wealth—the kind built and maintained by generations. It almost felt like a world had been separated just for people like Dante.
The drive continued for several minutes, past lawns trimmed so evenly they could have been painted, past fountains and long stretches of stone paths. When the car finally stopped, Isadora stared out in quiet awe.
Before her stood a mansion—no, an estate—so large it made the house she shared with Dante look modest. Three times as big and twice as luxurious, its pale walls gleamed under the morning light. Rows of tall glass windows reflected the sky, and marble pillars supported balconies that wrapped around the building like ribbons.
She couldn’t stop herself from staring. The entrance was wide enough for two carriages to drive through side by side, and the driveway alone looked polished enough to see her reflection. It wasn’t just grand—it was intimidating.
The door beside her opened, and she turned to find Ettore waiting. His calm expression gave her a hint of relief—at least there was one other familiar face.
"Let’s head in," Dante said, stepping out and offering his arm.
He looked effortlessly composed in his black suit, his white hair catching the sun and his pale eyes unreadable. When he looked at her, there was a softness there—a faint smile—but even as charming as it seemed, Isadora didn’t believe it to be real.
Still, she nodded, placing her hand lightly on his arm. Her heartbeat steadied as she tried to look relaxed. They might not all be like Namira, she told herself. Some might actually be happy that Dante is getting married.
Maybe if she looked calm enough, they would treat her the same way.
But as they entered through the enormous doors, her confidence wavered. freewebnovёl.ƈom
The air inside was cool and faintly perfumed. Golden light from crystal chandeliers spilled across polished marble floors, so smooth that she could see her reflection. The walls were lined with tall paintings—portraits of people who looked powerful, proud, and centuries old. Everything gleamed, from the carved staircases to the gold edges of the furniture.
A man in a dark suit approached them, bowing slightly. He looked every bit the perfect servant—refined, expressionless, trained for generations to serve people like these.
"The family head has been expecting you. It’s in the courtyard," he said smoothly.
Isadora had to stop herself from clutching Dante’s arm too tightly. He didn’t even glance at the man as he led her forward, walking through the enormous receiving hall and out toward the back of the house.
Sunlight spilled into a vast garden that stretched farther than she could see. Roses, lilies, and vines covered the open space, and the air smelled faintly of sweetness and earth. In the center was a long table set under a wide canopy, already surrounded by people who looked as though they’d been born into perfection.
Isadora’s breath caught.
It wasn’t a large gathering, but every person there radiated wealth. Their clothes were subtle yet expensive—silks, velvet, diamonds so delicate they didn’t need to glitter to be noticed. Their eyes, calm and assessing, turned toward her as she and Dante approached.
Dante’s face remained unreadable. Isadora followed closely beside him, her heart thudding as they reached the table. The dishes laid out were covered in fine silver, steam faintly escaping from underneath. Even the cutlery gleamed like it had never been touched before.
She spotted Namira among them and immediately felt a flicker of unease.
Before she could say anything, an older man seated at the head of the table spoke. His voice carried weight—deep and commanding.
"You’re a little late, Dante," he said disapprovingly. "Is this how you expect to honor your elders?"
Isadora stiffened, glancing at Dante in alarm, but he didn’t react. He calmly released her arm and stepped forward.
"I apologize," Dante said, his tone controlled. Then, almost teasingly, he added, "If I knew you were going to disapprove, I would have come hours earlier."
The man’s stern expression softened, and to her surprise, he stood and embraced Dante warmly. The change was so sudden that Isadora blinked, relief flooding her chest.
She watched silently as they exchanged quiet words, but when the old man’s gaze shifted toward her, her stomach turned again. His eyes were sharp, unreadable, filled with the kind of authority that didn’t need words.
Dante caught his look and spoke smoothly, his tone steady.
"My fiancée," he said simply. "I intend to get married next week."
There were no gasps or surprised looks. Clearly, everyone there had already been informed.
"I was surprised when you sent word that you were suddenly getting married," the older man said, his voice calm but probing. "You fell in love so quickly?"
Dante turned slightly, looking at her then—and Isadora nearly forgot to breathe.
His expression softened completely, filled with warmth that felt almost real. His gaze lingered on her, and his lips curved into a faint smile that carried the perfect touch of affection.
"Love happens at the most unexpected of times," he replied, his voice low and even.
The words were smooth, rehearsed—and yet something about the way he said them made her chest tighten. For a heartbeat, she almost believed him. Even knowing it wasn’t real, she felt her heart stumble just a little, caught between what she knew and what his eyes made her feel.
