My Boyfriend Pawned Me Off To His Mafia Cousin

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?