Dante's mansion was a fortress.

A black Rolls-Royce drove us through heavily guarded gates. I saw men with guns patrolling the grounds.

"You're safe here," Dante said simply.

He led me to a lavish bedroom.

Cream and pale gold decor. My favorite skincare products on the vanity. My clothes hanging in the closet.

The air even smelled like lilies, my favorite flower.

"This is all mine?" I acted surprised.

"Yes. You stay here often. We're getting married soon, after all." Dante lingered at the door, as still as a marble statue.

I walked to the vanity and picked up a bottle of perfume.

Leo had planned this out.

He'd moved my things here ages ago. He was ready to push me onto Dante.

I took a deep breath and looked at Dante.

"Dante, can I ask you a question?"

"Anything."

"Were we... were we really in love?"

He was silent for a long moment.

"What do you think?" he asked back.

"I don't remember anything," I said, shaking my head. "Maybe you can help me remember?"

Dante walked towards me. He reached out. His hand gently brushed my cheek.

His touch was warm. So careful. Like I was something precious and breakable.

"Take your time," he said, and kissed my forehead. "Don't force it."

Then he turned and left the room.

I stood there alone. My hand touched the spot he'd kissed.

That kiss... why did it feel so familiar?

That night, I explored the mansion. I had to find a clue about this ridiculous game.

I pushed open a heavy door. Dante's study.

A huge oak desk. Family portraits on the wall. And a monitor, still on.

It showed a hotel suite.

Leo was on the screen. He was kissing a redhead. Passionately.

Her legs were wrapped around his waist. Their clothes were a mess. They were lost in each other.

I held my breath and moved closer.

"Bella is so damn needy," Leo's voice came through, clear as day. "It's suffocating. Like being in a beautiful cage."

The redhead was Scarlett. I recognized her.

The mafia princess who'd been chasing Leo for years.

She giggled and kissed him again. "Then why not just break up with her?"

"The timing isn't right," Leo whispered in her ear. "It's perfect having Dante watch her for a while. I need my freedom, Scarlett. I need you."

The blood in my veins turned to ice.

So that was it.

Leo was tired of me. He wanted to get rid of me for a while.

My "amnesia" was the perfect excuse. He could dump me on Dante and go have his fun.

"What did you see?"

I spun around. My hand shot out and slammed the power button.

Dante was standing in the doorway. His face gave nothing away.

"I... I got lost," I said, trying to stay calm.

He walked over to the monitor. He glanced at the black screen.

"What did you see?" he repeated, his voice dangerously quiet.

"Nothing. Just a blank screen."

Dante stared at me. He looked like he could see right through me.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Anything," I said, forcing a smile. "Whatever you get, I'm sure I'll love it."

He walked right up to me. He kissed my forehead. "Okay. Wait for me."

Ten minutes later, he came back with a warm oat milk latte.

It was from my favorite little brand in Brooklyn. The temperature was perfect.

I took the cup, stunned.

Even Leo didn't know I only drank this brand.

How did he know?

We sat on the sofa. The fire crackled in the fireplace.

Dante's profile looked dark and sad in the firelight.

"You look sad," I said softly.

He turned to me. His eyes held some complicated emotion.

"Just because something is forgotten," he said, "doesn't mean it never happened."

His words sent a cold spike through me. What game was he playing?

"It's late. You should rest," he said, standing up.

He walked me to my bedroom door. He kissed my forehead again.

This kiss was different. Softer, yet more possessive. It was full of an emotion so deep I couldn't breathe.

"Goodnight, Isabella."

"Goodnight, Dante."

The door closed. I leaned against it, my heart pounding.

The way he treated me... this wasn't a man forced to take on his cousin's "fiancée."

His eyes. His attention to detail. The things he knew that even Leo didn't.

I stared straight ahead.

Leo told me Dante hated the sound of my name. That he couldn't stand me.

But this Dante was so attentive.

Who was the real Dante Falcone?

I slept surprisingly well for someone who just got shot.

The next morning, I was back to playing the amnesiac fiancée of the Don.

"There's a charity gala tonight," Dante said at breakfast. "Will you come with me?"

I put down my coffee cup. "Should I? In my condition?"

"You're my fiancée." His voice was calm, but his eyes held a deep meaning I couldn't read. "People expect to see you."

I had a feeling.

Leo would be there.

Maybe seeing me with Dante would make him regret it.

"Okay," I nodded. "What should I wear?"

"It's already been taken care of."

The dress was a deep blue silk. The silk slid from my shoulders, baring my collarbones and the smooth line of my neck.

Dante put a diamond necklace on me. His fingertips brushed the back of my neck.

"Perfect," he whispered in my ear.

In the mirror, his eyes met mine. They were deep, possessive, and filled with a raw, barely-leashed hunger.

"You look handsome, too," I said, turning to face him.

The black tuxedo made him look like a dangerous prince.

We stood close. His cologne mixed with his own scent. It made me dizzy.

"We should go," he said, his voice a little rough.

The hotel ballroom was a sea of gold and crystal.

New York's high society mingled. Jewels glittered under the lights.

I saw Leo immediately.

He was on the dance floor. He was holding Scarlett.

She wore a blood-red dress. She looked like a dangerous rose.

Their bodies were pressed together. Leo's hand was low on her waist, his thumb stroking dangerously close to the curve of her ass.

If they were alone, he would have bent her over something right then and there.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Leo raised his champagne glass. His voice echoed through the hall. "I'd like you all to meet my very important date, Scarlett Moretti!"

The room erupted in applause.

I felt Dante's hand on the small of my back.

He seemed... tense.

"I'm fine," I forced a smile.

But when Leo's eyes met ours, I saw the challenge in them.

We found a table.

Dante pulled out my chair. The perfect gentleman.

A waiter brought a seafood platter.

Dante picked up a shrimp. He expertly peeled it, dipped it in lemon juice, and placed it on my plate.

"Thank you," I said softly.

He peeled another. He was so focused. Like it was a sacred ritual.

"Dante, you're so sweet to your fiancée."

Leo's voice came from behind us. It dripped with acid.

He and Scarlett had walked over.

"Leo," Dante said, looking up calmly. "Having fun?"

"Of course." Leo's arm tightened around Scarlett's waist. "Scarlett's a hell of a lot of fun. Not so... demanding."

I put down my fork. I looked at Leo. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Leo shrugged. "Just that some women are too... dependent."

Dante's fingers tapped on the table. I could feel the anger in that small movement.

I stood up. I linked my arm with Dante's. "Well, I think my fiancé and I are doing great. He's very attentive. Aren't you, darling?"

I put extra weight on "fiancé" and "darling."

Dante looked at me. I saw surprise in his eyes, then a flicker of warmth. "Of course, baby."

Leo's face darkened.

"Wow, how sweet!" Scarlett laughed, her voice sharp. "You two should show us how in love you are!"

The guests around us started to cheer.

"Yeah! Show us what real love looks like!"

"Leo and Scarlett, you too!"

Leo's eyes darted between me and Dante. His jaw was clenched.

"Fine," Scarlett said, looking at me with a challenge. "Leo, kiss me. Let everyone see how much we love each other."

Leo hesitated for a second. Then he pulled Scarlett in.

Their kiss was an attack.

Leo's hand was buried in her red hair. Their lips were crushed together.

Scarlett's leg was practically wrapped around his waist. Her hand roamed his chest.

It went on for a full minute.

The family photographer was taking pictures. The flashbulbs were blinding.

"Get those pictures everywhere," Leo snapped at the photographer, breathless.

Scarlett kissed his neck. She shot me a look over his shoulder.

Her eyes said: See? He's mine.

The room applauded. The guests cheered.

But when it was over, Leo's eyes found mine. For just a second, I saw it. Guilt.

I forced myself to ignore Leo's disgusting guilt.

The after-party was in the penthouse suite.

The alcohol made the air feel dangerous and raw.

"Let's play a game!" Marco, a young heir from another family, shouted. "Vodka Roulette!"

Everyone gathered around.

"Simple rules," Marco said, holding up a bottle of vodka. "We spin the wheel. Whoever it lands on has to do a dare. Refuse, you down a full glass."

The wheel started spinning.

First round, a banker's wife. She had to walk a tightrope on the balcony rail without her heels. She did it. Everyone cheered.

Second round. The wheel slowed.

It landed on me.

"Isabella Rossini!" Marco yelled. "Your dare is... to dance the Argentine Tango with Leo Falcone!"

The air went still.

The Tango. We'd have to be pressed close together.

Everyone's eyes bounced between me, Leo, and Dante.

This was a time bomb.

Leo looked at Scarlett. Her face turned to stone.

"I..." Leo hesitated. "That's not a good idea."

He was worried about Scarlett's feelings.

Perfect.

His betrayal was clean. Complete.

I stood, placing my glass down with a soft click. "You're right," I said, my voice smooth as silk. "I wouldn't want to upset anyone. I forfeit."

I picked up the bottle of vodka. I poured a large glass without hesitating.

"Isabella, wait—" Dante reached out to stop me.

"It's okay, darling." I gave him a sweet smile. Then I downed the liquor in one go.

It burned my throat, but I didn't cough.

There was applause, but Leo's face grew darker.

"You didn't have to do that," he said through his teeth. "I would have done it."

"Done what?" I blinked, feigning confusion. "But that would make Dante upset."

I turned to Dante, my voice dripping honey. "Right, darling? You hate it when I dance with other men."

Dante's eyes grew intense. "If you don't want to, you don't have to."

"See?" I turned back to Leo. "My fiancé doesn't want me to. Sorry, Leo."

I purred the word "fiancé," and gave Dante's chest a possessive little pat.

Fire lit up in Leo's eyes.

"Dante." His voice was low and dangerous. "A word on the terrace?"

The two men walked out onto the terrace.

I pretended to chat with other guests. I was really listening to them.

"What are you doing?" Leo's voice was full of anger.

"I'm taking care of my fiancée," Dante answered calmly.

"Fiancée?" Leo sneered. "Don't forget this is just a game, Dante. She's a blank slate. She remembers nothing."

"Maybe that's for the best."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means maybe she doesn't need to remember the things that hurt her."

"Dante, I'm warning you," Leo threatened. "Stay away from her. You're my cousin. Don't take this game too seriously."

"And you?" Dante shot back. "What are you doing?"

Silence stretched between them. I looked away.

They came back a few minutes later.

Leo's face was a storm cloud. Dante just looked thoughtful.

At midnight, we finally went back to Dante's mansion.

The alcohol made me a little dizzy, but my mind was sharp.

"You drank too much," Dante said, helping me up the stairs.

"I'm fine," I purred. "Just a little... hot."

We stopped at my bedroom door.

"Get some rest," Dante said, turning to leave.

But I grabbed his wrist.

"Don't go," I said, looking into his eyes. "I'm a little... lonely."

He stopped. He turned to face me.

Moonlight streamed through the window. It cast shadows on his face.

"Isabella..." His voice was rough.

I gave his wrist a sharp tug.

Then I let myself sway, a calculated fall straight into his arms.