Anastasia's fingers trembled as she gripped her phone, staring at the unanswered call screen. Come on, pick up. Her heart pounded, her pulse racing against time. She pressed the call button again. No answer.
Frustration clawed at her chest. She had less than two hours to fix this disaster before her family's company crumbled beyond repair. She quickly typed a message.
Anastasia: Dante, please, we need to talk. This has gone too far.
A second passed. Then a minute. Still nothing.
She checked the time—6:42 PM.
She couldn't afford to wait. If he wouldn't answer, she'd find him herself.
Anastasia grabbed her keys and stormed out of the Laurent estate, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floors. The weight of her desperation settled heavily on her shoulders as she climbed into her car. She knew exactly where Dante would be. Montgomery Enterprises. The empire he now ruled.
He's not ignoring me out of busyness. He's doing this on purpose.
Gritting her teeth, she sped through the streets, weaving between cars as the city lights flickered to life. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel, her jaw locked in determination.
When she arrived at Montgomery Enterprises, the massive glass skyscraper loomed over her like an impenetrable fortress. She stepped into the sleek lobby, her presence commanding attention despite her frazzled state.
A well-dressed receptionist glanced up from her desk, offering a professional but unimpressed smile.
"Do you have an appointment, Miss?"
Anastasia straightened. "I need to see Dante Montgomery. It's urgent."
"I'm sorry, but Mr. Montgomery doesn't take walk-ins. You'll need to schedule an appointment—"
"I don't have time for that!" Anastasia snapped, her voice sharper than intended. "Tell him Anastasia Laurent is here. He'll want to see me."
The receptionist remained unfazed. "Mr. Montgomery's schedule is full for the evening. Without an appointment, I can't grant you entry."
Anastasia exhaled, trying to keep her temper in check. Damn him. She pulled out her phone again, her hands shaking as she dialed his number for the tenth time.
The screen rang. And rang. And rang.
Nothing.
In the penthouse office, Dante Montgomery sat behind his polished mahogany desk, his sharp gaze fixed on the illuminated screen of his phone. The name Anastasia Laurent flashed relentlessly, her persistence evident.
His assistant, Ethan, watched him carefully. "Sir, are you really not going to answer?"
Dante leaned back, fingers steepled together, amusement flickering in his stormy eyes. "She's impatient. Let her suffer a little longer."
Ethan sighed. "She's been calling non-stop. She's desperate."
"Exactly." Dante smirked, tapping his pen against the desk. "Let her desperation grow. It makes the game more interesting."
The phone buzzed again. This time, Dante's amusement flickered into something else. A slow exhale left his lips, and finally, he pressed accept.
"You're persistent," he said coolly.
"Dante," Anastasia exhaled in relief, gripping her phone. "We need to talk. Now."
"I'm working," he replied dismissively. "I don't have time for someone like you."
Her nails dug into her palm. "Dante, please—"
"If you want to talk, wait."
She clenched her jaw, glancing at the reception sofa. Fine. If waiting was what it took, she would wait.
"I'm staying right here in the lobby until you're free," she said.
Silence. Then, finally—
"I'll meet you at eight o'clock. A private club. The Elysium Lounge."
The line went dead.
True to his word, Dante arrived at exactly eight.
Anastasia watched as he descended the grand staircase of the lobby, his presence commanding attention. Dressed in an impeccable black suit, his dark hair perfectly styled, he exuded effortless power.
He didn't spare her a glance as he walked past. "Let's go."
She followed him to a sleek black car waiting outside. The ride was silent, tension thick in the air.
When they arrived at Elysium Lounge, it was clear this wasn't just any place. The luxurious private club was draped in dim golden lighting, chandeliers glittering overhead. It reeked of wealth, exclusivity, and danger.
Dante led her to a private booth, where expensive whiskey was already waiting for him. He leaned back against the plush seat, his gaze unreadable.
"Talk."
Anastasia inhaled deeply. "You need to stop this, Dante. You've taken things too far."
He swirled his drink. "Have I?"
"Yes!" she snapped. "This whole revenge—destroying businesses, ruining lives—it was a blind date sabotage! That's it. Why are you stretching this so far?"
Dante let out a humorless chuckle. "You think this is about a blind date?" His eyes darkened. "You're still so naïve, Anastasia."
She frowned. "Don't tell me this is about the past , what is this really about ?"
He set down his glass. "You."
Her heart lurched.
"This isn't about your petty blind date stunt. This is about what you did to me in the past."
A shiver ran down her spine. He wasn't just playing games. He was punishing her.
"Dante, I—"
"You remember what I told you this morning?" he interrupted, his voice low and menacing.
She stiffened. Of course, she remembered. His warning still echoed in her mind.
"It hasn't even been twenty-four hours," he continued, his gaze pinning her in place. "And yet, here we are again."
The booth door opened, and Ethan entered, holding a file.
Dante took it without breaking eye contact.
"I told you," he murmured, flipping open the document, "that the next time we met, you'd be signing your name." His lips curled into a smirk. "As my wife."
Anastasia's breath hitched.
Her eyes darted to the contract—her name printed in bold letters beside his.
She shot up from her seat. "You're insane if you think I'm signing that."
He merely raised an eyebrow. "You want your family's company back?" He tapped the file. "Sign it."
Her hands trembled. "If I sign, you'll fix everything? Restore my family's company? Even Mr. DuPont's?"
Dante leaned in, his voice smooth as silk. "If you become my wife, I'll give it all back."
Anastasia's stomach twisted. "You're treating this like a business transaction."
He smirked. "It is."
Fury burned through her veins. "No," she hissed. "I'm not signing anything."
Dante didn't flinch. "Then prepare to lose everything."
Her fingers curled into fists. "Why are you being a dick over a breakup?!"
His jaw tensed. "You think this is just about a breakup?" He chuckled darkly. "You never did understand, did you?"
Anastasia glared at him, rage and desperation warring inside her.
Dante leaned back, swirling his drink lazily. "I'll be waiting, Anastasia. Sooner or later, you'll come back. You always do."
Her vision blurred with anger. Without another word, she stormed out.
The chapter ended with Dante watching her leave, the contract still sitting untouched on the table. His smirk never wavered.
She'd be back.
And when she did… she'd be his.