The night had to be perfect.
Loreley moved through the grand dining hall of the Cattaneo estate with quiet precision, ensuring every detail was executed exactly as she had planned.
The table was set for two, adorned with soft candlelight and delicate crystal glasses. The scent of slow-roasted lamb and saffron rice filled the air—Dario's favorite.
She had cooked it herself, something she hadn't done since she first arrived in his world. He would see it as an act of devotion.
A final tribute from a wife who had learned her place.
The wine had been selected with equal care. A rare vintage from a vineyard in Sicily, one Dario kept reserved for true celebrations.
She took a steady breath, smoothing down the silk of her dress.
Everything was in place but Dario arrived later than expected.
She had been waiting by the fireplace, the soft glow of the flames casting golden light against her skin.
She wore the black silk dress he liked, the one that clung to her curves in a way that pleased him. Beneath it, she wore the lingerie she had purchased just for tonight.
Dario paused in the doorway, studying the room before his gaze settled on her. A slow smirk tugged at his lips.
"You've outdone yourself," he murmured, stepping forward.
She lowered her gaze, allowing just enough hesitation to make him believe this was an act of adoration rather than calculation. "I wanted tonight to be special."
Dario ran a hand along the curve of her waist, his fingers pressing into her possessively. "Is that so?"
She turned her head slightly, letting him see the faintest hint of submission in her posture. "I just want to make you happy."
He chuckled, clearly pleased.
God, he was predictable.
They dined slowly.
Loreley played her role perfectly—laughing at the right moments, listening attentively as Dario boasted about his recent business moves.
She refilled his glass twice, subtly ensuring he drank more than she did, though she took careful sips to maintain the illusion.
She knew the moment the poison began to take effect.
It started with something small—a slight furrow of his brows, as though trying to shake off a sudden wave of dizziness. He took another sip of wine, swallowing thickly, then rolled his shoulders, shifting in his chair.
Loreley reached across the table, letting her fingers brush his. "You seem tense."
Dario exhaled sharply, his smirk faltering for the first time. "I'm fine."
She tilted her head, running a fingertip along the stem of her glass. "Why don't we move to the bedroom? I have something special for you."
Dario's gaze darkened with hunger, but when he pushed himself up from the chair, he wavered.
The smirk slipped from his face. Loreley rose gracefully, watching as his hands curled around the edge of the table for balance.
"Something wrong, dolcezza?" she asked innocently.
Dario's breath came heavier now, more labored. "What—"
His throat convulsed. He reached for her, but his body betrayed him. His knees buckled, and he caught himself against the chair, his breathing growing ragged.
His eyes snapped to hers, the realization finally hitting him.
"You…" His voice was hoarse, filled with disbelief.
Loreley took a slow step forward, tilting her head. "Yes, amore?"
He tried to lunge, but his body refused. He wasn't in control anymore.
Loreley crouched beside him as he collapsed to his knees, watching the panic bloom in his expression.
He struggled to form words, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his body fighting a battle it had already lost.
Dario was dying, and Loreley had never seen anything more beautiful.
He lay sprawled on the floor, his body convulsing as he fought against the inevitable.
The great Dario Cattaneo—ruthless, untouchable, feared by all—was now a pathetic, wheezing mess, his power crumbling with every labored breath.
"You should've been smarter, amore," she murmured, her voice laced with a cruel amusement. "You always thought you were the one in control, didn't you? That I was your little possession, your obedient wife. That no matter how many times you beat me, no matter how many times you reminded me of my place, I would always stay beneath your boot."
She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head.
"You never saw me for what I really was."
Dario's breath hitched, his body jerking violently. He tried to focus on her, his vision blurring, but she grabbed his chin, forcing him to look into her eyes.
"I played you," she whispered, her nails digging into his skin. "From the moment I walked into your world, I was planning this. You thought you were taming me, breaking me? I let you think that. I let you believe I was yours while I was carving my way into your empire, making your men mine."
She leaned closer, her lips brushing against his ear. "And the best part?" she murmured, her voice laced with venom. "It didn't have to be this way."
Dario groaned, his muscles spasming as he struggled to move. His body was failing him. His strength—his precious strength—was gone.
Loreley exhaled slowly, shaking her head.
"If only you had been a better man—just with me—I might have let you live." She pulled back, tilting her head. "We could have ruled together, Dario. We could have been great."
Loreley chuckled softly, stroking his cheek in a mockery of affection. "Oh, I know what you want to ask." She traced her fingers down his jaw, then leaned in, lowering her voice to a whisper.
"The wine," she breathed.
Dario's eyes widened in horror. She smirked.
"You thought I poisoned your glass?" She clicked her tongue. "Dario, please. Give me some credit." She reached for the wine bottle on the table, holding it up so he could see the deep red liquid sloshing inside. "It was the entire bottle."
Dario's fingers twitched. A final, useless attempt at resistance. Loreley's smirk widened.
She lifted a small vial between two fingers—the antitoxin.
"Did you really think I'd leave myself vulnerable?" she asked, tilting it slightly so a single drop fell onto her tongue. "I needed just enough to weaken me, to make my suffering look convincing."
She swallowed, then smiled down at him.
"But you?" She clicked her tongue. "You, amore mio, don't get a second chance."
Dario's body seized violently one last time, his mouth falling open in a desperate, silent scream.
And then, just like that—
He was gone.
Loreley sat back on her heels, inhaling deeply, savoring the silence.
Then, with a slow, practiced breath, she let out a piercing scream.
Loreley dropped to her knees beside him, shaking his shoulders as if panicked.
"Dario!" she cried, her voice desperate. "Help! Someone, please—he's not breathing!"
The guards rushed in seconds later, exactly as she had planned.
They found her cradling his lifeless body, her hands trembling, her voice breaking as she sobbed over his corpse.
A grieving widow.
A devoted wife who had barely survived the attempt on both their lives.