Chapter 3 - THE SKELETONS OF THE CRANE ESTATE
By evening, news of my presence in the Bellandi mansion had ignited a firestorm across Chicago’s elite social circles.
I sat in the private dressing room attached to my new suite—a stunning space decorated in soft cream and gold, featuring a private balcony overlooking the estate's sprawling gardens. On the bed lay three garment bags delivered directly from the city's most exclusive boutique, sent by Dante's personal stylist.
My phone, which had been restored and upgraded with an encrypted Bellandi network line, began buzzing incessantly.
The caller ID showed a number I knew by heart: Sebastian Crane.
I let it ring three times before sliding the bar to answer. I didn't say a word.
"Evelyn?!" Sebastian’s voice exploded through the speaker, laced with furious, arrogant disbelief. "Where the hell are you?! My lawyer said you didn't check into the shelter! And what is this absurd rumor going around the club that you were seen entering the Bellandi estate?!"
I leaned back against the plush velvet armchair, looking at my freshly manicured nails. For three years, the sound of Sebastian’s angry voice would have sent my stomach churning with anxiety.
Now, backed by the stone walls of Dante Bellandi's fortress, it sounded pathetically small.
"It is not a rumor, Sebastian," I said, my tone ice-cold and measured. "I am at the Bellandi mansion."
A sharp intake of breath came over the line. "Are you insane?! Do you have any idea who Dante Bellandi is?! He's a violent criminal! You need to pack your things and bring my family's financial ledger back to my office right now, or I will have the police arrest you for felony theft!"
"I didn't take your ledger, Sebastian," I replied calmly. "Your mother packed it into my bag by mistake because she was too busy gloating while kicking me out into the rain."
"I don't care who packed it!" Sebastian yelled. "If those papers leak to the IRS or the press, my family's firm is ruined! Bring them back, Evelyn, and I might consider giving you a modest monthly stipend so you don't starve on the streets!"
I let out a soft, genuine laugh—a sound that seemed to catch Sebastian completely off guard.
"A monthly stipend?" I asked softly. "Sebastian, twelve hours ago you threw me out with twenty-six dollars and rain in my shoes. You told your assistant to let me leave 'clean.' Well, I am clean. And I owe you nothing."
"Evelyn, listen to me—"
"No, Sebastian, you listen to me," I interrupted, my voice dropping into a register that commanded absolute silence. "I am currently holding the marriage contract between myself and Don Dante Bellandi. In two weeks, I will officially become a Bellandi. If you or your mother call my phone again, or if your lawyers attempt to file false charges against me, I will hand your private tax ledger directly to my fiance."
Silence hung heavy on the line. I could hear Sebastian's rapid, terrified breathing. He knew what Dante Bellandi did to people who threatened his family.
"You... you wouldn't," Sebastian whispered, his arrogance finally cracking.
"Try me," I said, and hung up the phone.
As I set the phone on the vanity table, I caught a movement in the mirror's reflection.
Dante was leaning against the doorframe of the dressing room, wearing a tailored charcoal suit, his arms crossed over his chest. He had been listening.
"You handle yourself well under pressure, Evelyn," Dante said, stepping into the room.
"I spent three years learning how to survive a bully, Don Bellandi," I replied, standing up to face him. "Sebastian Crane was just a bully with a trust fund."
Dante walked over to the bed, touching the fabric of one of the elegant evening gowns laid out for me.
"Tomorrow night is the Annual City Gala," Dante said, his gray eyes locking onto mine. "Every politician, judge, mob leader, and high-society mogul in Chicago will be in that ballroom. Sebastian Crane and his mother will be there, expecting to see you ruined."
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a velvet box, opening it to reveal a breath-taking necklace of black diamonds set in platinum—an heirloom piece worth millions.
May you like
"I want you to wear this," Dante said softly, stepping behind me and fastening the cold platinum chain around my neck. His fingers brushed against my collarbone, sending a strange, electric shiver through my spine. "Tomorrow night, my dear Evelyn, you do not just attend as my fiancee. You attend as the undisputed queen of this city."
I looked into the mirror. The pale, broken woman who had stood under the pharmacy awning in the rain was gone. In her place stood a woman draped in diamonds, guarded by monsters, and ready for war.
