Chapter 3 - The Shadow of the Crown
The Bellamy estate was a fortress of cold stone, dark wood, and bulletproof glass.
For three days, Evelyn was kept in the west wing of the massive mansion. Her room was luxurious—equipped with a silk-draped king-sized bed, a private balcony overlooking the roaring ocean, and a wardrobe filled with high-end clothes—but it was undeniably a prison. Two heavily armed guards stood outside her door twenty-four hours a day, and the windows were made of triple-reinforced ballistic glass that didn't open more than two inches.
On the fourth morning, the heavy mahogany door unlocked.
Dante stepped into the room, wearing a dark blue suit without a tie, his shirt unbuttoned at the throat. He carried a leather folder under his arm. Behind him walked a woman in her late fifties, wearing a sharp grey business suit and carrying a medical tray.
“Sit,” Dante ordered coldly.
Evelyn remained standing by the window, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. “I prefer to stand.”
Dante didn't argue. He gestured to the older woman. “This is Dr. Harrison. She is going to draw your blood for a full genetic panel.”
Evelyn’s stomach dropped. “Why? You already paid fifty million dollars for me. Don't you know who I am?”
Dante walked over to the small marble table in the corner, setting the leather folder down with a soft thud. “I know who Julian Vance said you were. But in my line of work, trust is a terminal illness. The Vance family was wiped out fifteen years ago, but rumors persist that the head of their family—Julian’s older brother, Marcus Vance—is still alive, operating from the shadows of Europe.”
Dr. Harrison stepped forward with a syringe, her face completely expressionless. “Hold out your arm, please, Miss Hart.”
Evelyn looked at the sharp needle, then at Dante’s emotionless face. She swallowed her fear, pulled up the sleeve of her cream sweater, and offered her arm without a word of protest. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch.
Dr. Harrison efficiently drew two vials of dark blood, labeled them with a barcode, placed them in a metallic biohazard case, and exited the room without saying another word.
Once the door clicked shut, Dante picked up the leather folder and opened it.
“While we wait for the lab results, your instruction begins today,” Dante said, his voice smooth and cold. “You will not be sitting in this room weeping. Starting tomorrow, you will work as my personal assistant in my private office down the hall. You will organize my files, manage my schedule, and answer my calls.”
Evelyn blinked in genuine surprise. “You want me... working in your private office? Aren't you afraid I'll look through your secret mob files or stick a letter opener in your neck?”
Dante walked slowly toward her until he was standing directly in front of her. He was so tall she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. He reached out, his long, strong fingers catching her chin in a grip that was firm but surprisingly gentle.
“If you try to read my files, I will lock you in the basement,” Dante whispered, his warm breath fanning across her lips. “If you try to stab me with a letter opener, I will break your wrists. You are going to work for me because I want you to see the power I wield. I want you to realize every single second of every day that your life rests entirely in my hands.”
Evelyn glared at him, her heart betraying her by hammering wildly against her ribs. “You’re a monster.”
May you like
“I am a Bellamy,” he corrected softly, his eyes dropping to her lips for a brief, dangerous second before he released her chin. “Be in my study at seven o'clock tomorrow morning. Don't be late.”
He turned and walked out of the room, leaving Evelyn alone in the quiet luxury of her golden cage. She touched her chin where his fingers had rested, feeling a terrifying, undeniable spark of electricity still lingering on her skin.
