Alessia's POV
I barely made it through my front door before my knees threatened to buckle. Dante's words still clung to my skin, as suffocating as Marco's necklace around my throat.
"You'll think about it."
No. I won't. But I knew he'd gotten to me. He'd seen right through me.
How? How the hell did he know the necklace felt like a leash? Like a brand of ownership I never wanted? I touched the cold metal, fingers curling around it as though I could rip it off, but I didn't. I didn't have the courage. Because that would mean admitting he was right. And I refused to give Dante that kind of power over me.
I let out a slow breath, trying to force the tension from my muscles, but it was useless. He had rattled me. But he wasn't my biggest problem. Marco was, and I don't want him finding out Dante and I spoke today.
...
The confrontation came faster than I expected. I was still on edge from my encounter with Dante, still replaying every damn second in my head, when Marco stormed into my apartment unannounced. The second I saw his face, I knew. He knew. And he was furious.
The door slammed behind him, rattling on its hinges.
"Dante proposed?" His voice was eerily calm.
I forced my spine straight, trying to maintain my composure. "Where did you hear that?"
His dark eyes burned into me. "Answer the question."
I crossed my arms, feigning indifference, even though my stomach churned. "Yeah. He did."
Marco's nostrils flared. His fists clenched at his sides. "And?"
I raised a brow. "And what?"
It was the wrong response. Because in the next second, he was on me. Fingers wrapped around my arm, tight enough to make me wince as he yanked me closer. Rough. Unforgiving.
My pulse spiked. Marco had never handled me like this before. He had a temper, sure. But this? This was new, dangerous even.
His voice dropped to a low, seething whisper.
"Did you even hesitate before you said no?"
I froze. The world seemed to still. Marco's grip tightened.
I could hear my own breathing, sharp and uneven. I should have denied it. Should have reassured him, soothed his rage. But I didn't. I couldn't. Because I had hesitated. Even if it was for a fraction of a second. Even if it meant nothing.
Marco's eyes darkened as he read my silence. And then, he snapped. He shoved me back, not enough to send me crashing, but enough to make me stumble. Enough to make me scared. I was scared. My breath rushed from my lungs as I caught myself against the couch.
His hands raked through his hair, his movements frantic, his breathing rough and uneven.
"I knew it," he muttered under his breath. "I fucking knew it."
I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering against my throat.
"Marco—"
"Shut up!" The sheer venom in his voice made me freeze.
I had never heard him like this before. Never seen his control slip this way. I had underestimated his jealousy.
I thought he liked having me under his thumb, liked knowing I was his. But this, this was something else. His possessiveness wasn't just about keeping me. It was about ensuring that no one else ever could. Especially not Dante.
"You don't leave my sight tonight," he said suddenly, his voice unnervingly calm again.
I stiffened. "What?"
His eyes met mine, and I felt the shift between us. For the first time since knowing Marco…I was truly, undeniably afraid.
"You're staying with me," he said simply. "I need to be sure you're not lying to me."
I swallowed. "I'm not—"
His jaw ticked. "I don't believe you."
I opened my mouth, ready to argue, ready to fight against it. But then I saw it. The warning that this wasn't a request, but a command. And if I refused… I didn't want to know what would happen next. So I nodded. Because I didn't have a choice.