CHAPTER 17: FAMILY DINNER

Her gaze narrowed slightly. "Oh, look who it is. Maxine. I didn’t see you there."

"Well, I’m not surprised," Maxine fired back, "You might want to tilt your upper real estate so you can get a better view next time."

It took everything in Alisha not to burst into laughter. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her expression neutral. But when she saw Katherine’s cheeks flush red with anger, a small snicker escaped her lips.

"Always with the sharp tongue," Katherine said through gritted teeth, still wearing a forced smile. "But I didn’t come here for you. I came here for Alisha." Her eyes slid back to Alisha, assessing. "You must be new. Haven’t seen you around. Just a bit of advice—you have to be careful who you make friends with around here. You have a lot of potential when you have a problem with anything, come to me."

Was that a threat? A warning? Or Katherine trying to assert dominance? Alisha couldn’t tell. Either way, she simply nodded, not giving her the satisfaction of a reaction.

"I’ll be sure to keep that in mind," she said curtly.

Without waiting for a reply, she turned around and walked back to her seat. Katherine narrowed her eyes at her retreating figure before walking away too, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.

The cafeteria tension slowly dissipated after Katherine left, but the unease lingered.

Eva returned home not long after, still visibly shaken. Thankfully, the girl who collapsed earlier had survived, but she’d need to be medically supervised for a while.

Later that evening, Alisha walked into Dante’s mansion. After reuniting with her parents the week before, she had officially moved in with Dante. It was part of the plan to get more accustomed to each other before their marriage was made public. The media would be relentless, snooping around to confirm whether their relationship

was genuine or fabricated.

She chuckled to herself as she dropped her bag on the side table. The idea that someone like Dante De Rossi was struggling with a gay rumor felt unreal. The man practically oozed masculinity. Arrogance, brooding, distant. Not the type to care what others thought, and yet... here they were, putting up a show for the world.

She was about to head upstairs when she saw him descending the staircase. Dressed in all black, tailored to perfection, he looked like he was on the way to a business meeting—or a funeral.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked, adjusting his cufflinks.

Alisha blinked. "Ready to go where?"

Dante paused mid-step, turning to look at her. He didn’t look amused.

"We’re supposed to attend my family dinner tonight," he said through clenched teeth.

Alisha’s heart dropped to her stomach. Her eyes widened as the realization hit her like a punch. Today. She was supposed to meet his family. She whipped out her phone, saw the headline confirming their marriage, and nearly choked.

"I completely forgot," she muttered, already sprinting up the stairs. "Give me twenty minutes!"

She dashed into the guest room. Her makeup from earlier had faded a little, so she quickly retouched it, adding a nude lip and brushing her lashes. Her dress—short, black, and snug—hugged her body a little too much for a family dinner. It had been meant for a company presentation. There was no time to change.

Sighing, she grabbed her clutch and returned downstairs. Dante didn’t comment, but his eyes briefly scanned her outfit. He said nothing—just opened the door and led her to the car.

An hour later, they pulled into the De Rossi estate. Calling it a mansion was an understatement. The place looked more like a fortress. High, stone walls loomed in the background, and the grey exterior added an intimidating touch. Alisha suddenly felt like she was walking into a mafia headquarters.

Together, they entered the mansion, and it felt like stepping into a different world. Opulence dripped from every corner. From the marble flooring to the diamond chandeliers, everything screamed wealth and power.

The family was already seated in the massive dining room. Long table. Heavy chairs. The kind of setup that made you sit up straight whether you wanted to or not.

At the sound of her heels clicking across the marble floor, everyone turned to look at her.

Alisha met the cold gaze of Mr. De Rossi himself. He looked just like he did on television—sharp-eyed, calculated, and entirely unreadable. A man with secrets he would die before revealing.

"Look who finally decided to show up," Dante’s brother, Mylo, said with a smirk. His gaze slid from Dante to Alisha, pausing deliberately on her legs. "At least you brought a beautiful wife. I’ll say it’s worth the wait."

Dante didn’t respond. He walked Alisha to her seat, pulled it out for her, and sat beside her.

Alisha’s skin prickled under the weight of everyone’s gaze. She scanned the table—Mylo, Dante’s parents.

"I didn’t think you’d ever bring a woman home, Dante," Mr. De Rossi finally said, his voice gravelly and deep. "I’m not sure if I should be glad... or concerned."

"You can choose whichever you like, Father," Dante replied coolly. "I brought a wife home, as you asked."

A small smile curled at the corner of Mr. De Rossi’s lips. "Alisha Quinn," he said, picking a piece of chicken with his fork, "how come I’ve never heard of you before? Did Dante pay you to pretend to be his wife or something?"

Alisha was about to respond when the woman beside him, clearly his wife, Hillary De Rossi, smacked him on the arm.

"Marcus, don’t say such things," she chastised softly.

Alisha didn’t miss a beat. She leaned forward slightly, meeting the older man’s sharp eyes.

"Not at all, Mr. De Rossi," she said calmly. "Dante did much more than just pay me to be his wife, you see."

The room went silent. Utensils paused mid-air. All eyes turned to her.

Dante nearly choked on his drink. He coughed, quickly covering his mouth.