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.

I fell into Dante's chest. His arms wrapped around me instantly.

"Oops," I said, looking up at him. Our faces were so close I could feel his breath.

"You're drunk," he said, his voice low and raw.

"No," I said. My hand went to his chest. I felt his heart hammering. "I'm wide awake."

In the moonlight, his eyes were as deep as the ocean.

I saw the hunger there. And something else. Something he was trying to crush.

I stood on my toes. And I kissed him.

Dante went rigid for a second. Then he lost all control.

His hand tangled in my hair. He pulled me hard against him.

The kiss was an invasion. His tongue swept into my mouth, possessive and demanding, devouring what was his.

My back hit the wall. His body was flush against mine. I could feel how hot he was, how hard he was.

"Isabella..." he gasped against my lips, his voice thick and sexy.

My legs went weak. I could barely stand.

This kiss. This all-consuming kiss. It proved it.

His indifference was all an act. A beautiful, flimsy lie.

For the next week, Leo didn't bother us.

Dante and I fell into a strange routine.

It felt... normal. Like this was how it was always supposed to be.

Dante, the feared Don of the city, made me breakfast every morning.

He remembered everything I liked.

Eggs over easy. Cinnamon in my coffee. Toast just golden enough.

At night, we watched movies on the sofa.

His arm would rest around me naturally.

Sometimes he would kiss my forehead.

The touch was so gentle it made my heart race.

We didn't kiss on the lips again.

But the air between us was electric.

Sometimes, I almost forgot this was all a damn game.

A trap set by the man I'd stupidly called my boyfriend.

Until Friday night. The phone rang.

"Leo," Dante said, glancing at me before answering.

"Private yacht party tomorrow. For Scarlett," Leo's voice came through the speaker. "You coming?"

"We'll be there," Dante answered instantly.

He hung up. I looked at him. "Why did you say yes?"

"You're my fiancée, darling," he said, taking my hand. "I want everyone to know it."

What about Leo?

Did he want to see me and Dante together again?

I nodded yes. A part of me was excited. I wanted to see Leo squirm.

The next day, the yacht sailed slowly across the Long Island Sound.

The deck was a fairy tale. Pink and white flowers everywhere.

Scarlett wore a white dress. She looked like a bride-to-be.

"Isabella!" she called out, her voice sickly sweet. "You look great. Life with amnesia must be easy, huh?"

"It is," I smiled faintly. "It's nice to forget your troubles."

Leo walked over. He looked... free.

His hair was longer. He hadn't shaved. His eyes had a wildness I'd never seen before.

"Bella, hi," he said, practically preening. "I've been great. No one breathing down my neck. I can finally do what I want."

"That's wonderful for you," I said, my voice dangerously even. Each word was a tiny shard of glass in my throat.

He thought I was holding him back?

"Yeah," he went on. "Freedom is an amazing thing. Not having to think about anyone else's feelings. Not being tied down."

Every word was a shot at me.

I fought to keep my composure. To keep my eyes from turning red.

"Everyone should live the life they want."

Leo clearly didn't expect me to be so calm.

He frowned. "You're not... angry?"

"Why would I be?" I asked him. "I have my life. You have yours. We both got what we wanted."

"That's right," Scarlett said, linking her arm with Leo's. "Leo's happy now. Happier than before."

"I can tell," I said, smiling at Dante. "We're happy too. Aren't we, darling?"

Dante nodded. His hand rested on my waist. The gesture was natural. Intimate.

Leo's face got uglier and uglier.

A champagne cork popped.

Leo grabbed a microphone and stood in the center of the deck.

"My friends!" he announced. "Today is a special day!"

Everyone went quiet.

"I have something important to announce." Leo looked at Scarlett. Then his eyes shot straight to me. "I'm getting engaged to Scarlett!"

The applause was thunderous. But a weird, awkward feeling hung in the air.

I could feel everyone's eyes on me. Waiting for my reaction.

Especially Leo's.

He was provoking me.

I clenched my fists.

The pain in my heart turned to pure rage.

If he wanted to get rid of me this badly, if he was this desperate to show off his new girl...

Fine. I'll give him what he wants.

Besides, being the Don's fiancée is a major upgrade. A Queen, not a plaything for some boy on the sidelines.

I broke the silence.

I started clapping first and smiled at Leo. "Congratulations to you both."

He wanted his freedom. Now he has it.

And I hope he lives to regret every second of it.