Chapter 71: 71. Alina’s Fake Acting, Lucian’s real Fainting.

Viella sat on the edge of the bed, the heavy silence of the room pressing in on her. She stared at the pages, her mind racing.

"So basically, Elias has planned everything from the start. Even our meeting... he wrote it down here. So it means Dante and everyone is really getting controlled by the plot," she muttered, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and realization.

She held out her hand. "Lily, give me those pages."

Lily handed over the loose, blood-stained pages. Viella leaned in close, tracing the strange, jagged symbols around the text. They didn’t look like any language she knew. "Is he a witch or what?"

"pen,"

Viella demanded. Lily pulled one from her apron and handed it over.

Viella gripped the pen and began frantically copying the symbols onto a page. She drew them exactly as they appeared. She held her breath, waiting for a spark, a glow.

Nothing. Not a single thing happened. The symbols stayed the same on the paper.

She looked at the symbols, frustration bubbling up. "These papers... the signs... I have no idea what any of this even means."

"But since I have the original book, I am sure he can’t write anything new, but what will happen now?" Viella sighed, leaning back and rubbing her temples. "Will Dante go back to his normal self? Will the plot go on as it was? I have no answers at all."

An idea suddenly popped inside Viella’s head. "I have no idea whose blood this is. But I can definitely find out, I guess. I mean, if it’s anyone’s blood, it means my blood should work too right?."

"Don’t tell me you’re gonna hurt yourself, my lady," Lily said, her voice dropping into a warning tone.

Viella just looked at Lily, a sharp smirk playing on her lips. Before Lily could do anything to stop her, Viella gripped the metal pen and stabbed the palm of her other hand. Blood immediately started flowing over her hand, dripping onto the pristine sheets of Lucian’s guest bed.

"MY LADY!" Lily cried out in shock. She moved with lightning speed, grabbing Viella’s wrist to try and stop the blood from flowing over her tender white skin.

Viella didn’t even flinch. She leaned over the book, the metallic scent of her own fresh blood hitting her nostrils. "The most effective way to know if it’s working or not is to write something that will happen either change the plot or give my answers"

She began to write, the nib of the pen scratching harshly against the parchment as she used her own life force as ink. After Viella stopped, Lily leaned down, her eyes scanning the messy, wet script.

"Male lead female lead the villain everyone in the book suddenly died and Viella the villainess got all her moisturizers."

Lily, who was still tightly holding Viella’s hand to stem the bleeding, looked at her with bored, unimpressed eyes. "Is that all you want to see? A massacre for the sake of your skincare?"

Viella laughed, though it sounded a bit breathless. "I wish, but no."

She dipped the pen back into the small pool of blood in her palm and wrote again, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Dante’s favorite car was fixed to brand new."

Lily looked boredly at her again. "You’re wasting blood on a windshield."

"Trust the process, Lily," Viella insisted. She took a deep breath and focused, writing a paragraph that she hoped would solve all her problems in one go

"Dante the mafia lord finally fell deeply in love with Alina and they lived happily ever after, while he cancelled the wedding with Viella and threw her away with all the properties... she suffered from success. While the villain... Elias went crazy and committed suicide."

Viella started laughing hysterically after she finished the final period. "There! The perfect ending! I get the money, Alina gets the man, and Elias gets a coffin!"

"Never seen someone going crazy from losing blood this fast," Lily muttered, pulling a clean bandage from her pocket and beginning to wrap Viella’s hand with practiced firmness.

"That’s enough, my lady. You can’t continue writing unless you wanna die from blood loss."

Viella nodded slowly, the room starting to spin. She leaned back against the headboard, feeling a sudden wave of dizziness wash over her. "Fine... wrap it up. I’ve done... my part..."

Exactly at that moment, Lucian found the spare key. He shoved it into the lock and threw the door open with a loud BANG.

"Viella, you-!" He started to roar, but the words died in his throat. His eyes darted from the metal pen in Viella’s hand to the dark red pooling on his expensive white mattress, and finally to the blood still dripping from Viella’s palm.

"Blo-" Lucian’s face went from flushed red to a ghostly white. His eyes rolled back into his head, and his knees buckled.

As his tall, heavy frame began to tilt forward, it looked like he was going to crush Lily. Without changing her expression, Lily simply stepped to the left.

THUD.

Lucian hit the floor face-first with a heavy groan of escaping air.

"I never thought he was scared of blood," Viella muttered, leaning over the bed to peer at her unconscious brother.

"Unless it’s his little sister’s blood," Lily added dryly, finishing the bandage on Viella’s hand with a tight, professional knot.

The commotion brought Lucian’s men running. Seeing their master sprawled out on the floor like a discarded rug, they let out cries of alarm and hurriedly dragged him away by his arms, his feet trailing limply behind him as they cleared the room.

Viella and Lily both shrugged in unison, as if a fainting Lord was just a minor weather update. Viella turned her attention back to the book, her eyes determined despite the slight dizziness.

"Let me copy every page before burning them," Viella said, her voice dropping to a serious tone.

"If my blood can rewrite the plot, I need to know every word Elias wrote so I can erase him completely."

Lily nodded, pulling out fresh sheets of paper.

"I’ll help my lady"

___________

By the time Dante and Alina returned to the estate, the sky had turned purple. It was late.

His men stood in the driveway, their heads bowed and eyes fixed firmly on the gravel. They were terrified to utter a single word after the chaotic events of the day. The air around Dante was thick with a tension that felt like it could snap at any second.

Dante’s gaze shifted toward the garage, specifically to the spot where his favorite car usually sat. The space was still empty. Viella had not returned.

"Lord Dante, let me carry these for you," Alina said softly, her voice sweet and helpful.

Dante gave a short nod. Alina took the bags, her eyes gleaming with a quiet victory, and walked inside the mansion.

Instead of following her, Dante turned his cold gaze back to the men standing. They started shivering visibly. No one heard exactly what he whispered to them in that low, terrifying tone, but the color drained from their faces instantly. With that, he turned on his shoe and walked inside, his expression still a mask of frozen ice.

Nonna was away on another business trip, though she had promised to be back before the wedding. Without her presence to balance the house, the atmosphere felt even more oppressive.

The lady guards inside the foyer shivered as Dante passed by, his cold aura filling the hallway.

Alina walked happily toward him, a bright contrast to the gloom of the house.

"Lord Dante, I... I arranged everything on your bed. You can freshen up while I prepare dinner," she said, her voice lilting.

To the absolute shock of the staff watching from the shadows, the coldness vanished from Dante’s face for a brief moment as he nodded at her. It wasn’t a smile, but the sudden softness was unmistakable.

The guards looked at each other, their eyes wide.

"I thought our boss loved his fiancée, but... this is absurd," one whispered as soon as the couple was out of earshot.

"Shh! This is a rich people affair, we can’t say anything," the other huffed, though she looked just as confused.

Alina caught a fragment of their whispering. She slowed her pace, her back to them, as a sharp, possessive glare crossed her face.

"My Dante love that bitch?" she thought, her nails digging into her palms. "Never. He’s mine forever."

Instead of returning to his own room, Dante walked toward the guest room Viella had occupied. He stood in the doorway, his icy gaze falling on the empty space. The bed was perfectly made, the sheets undisturbed-a cold reminder that she had escaped his perimeter.

He crossed the room to the bedside lamp. Reaching inside the shade, he pulled out something. Without a flicker of emotion, he closed his fist around it, the plastic and metal crunching until it crashed and splintered in his palm. He dropped the remains onto the floor like trash.

Returning to his own room, he stepped into the shower, the water splashing sound coming from inside. He scrubbed his arm with a ferocity that turned the skin raw, rubbing at his flesh as if he had touched something utterly filthy.

Stepping out, he draped a towel over his shoulders, his eyes fixed on the mirror. A dark, cloudy gloom was visible in his expression as he ran his fingers through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead.

"This is really annoying," he muttered to the empty, silent room.

His gaze fell into his own bed where once someone else used to sleep besides him.

Suddenly-

Alina entered his room without knocking, her breath hitching as she saw him. He was half-shirtless, his body toned and sculpted like a Greek god, the water from the shower still glistening on his skin.

She quickly hid her face and turned away, though her fingers curled into a smirk she didn’t let him see. "So-sorry, Lord Dante! I thought... the door was locked. I apologize!"

Dante masked his expression, his voice deep and steady. "It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize."

Alina felt a surge of joy. She remembered this scene clearly from the "original" story which obviously she told Elias to write, this was how the female lead was supposed to stumble in. In the book, he had commanded her to dry his hair right then and there.

Her hands twitched, waiting for the order to come, but the silence stretched on. She felt a flicker of annoyance. Is Elias not doing his job properly? Why isn’t he saying the line?

"Uh... anything else you would like to say, Lord Dante?" she prompted, hopeful.

"Hum... don’t disturb me. I will be in my study and will have dinner later, so you should go and rest," he said, his wet hair still dripping onto his shoulders.

"Uh, your hair is wet... you will catch a cold, Lord Dante," she said softly.

"It’s oka-"

"Should I dry it for you?" Alina cut him off, daring to step closer.

Dante’s eyes held a cold, sharp glint for a split second-a flash but then he forced his expression to soften, keeping his face warm. He gave a slow nod.

Alina happily grabbed a towel. She stood behind him, her heart racing as she began to pat the moisture from his dark locks. She moved with exaggerated care, her fingers occasionally "accidentally" brushing against the nape of his neck or the tops of his shoulders.

She used a smaller towel to gently massage his scalp, humming a sweet, low tune, trying to embody the perfect, nurturing female lead.

Dante sat perfectly still, like a stone. To anyone watching, it looked like a tender moment, but his hands were gripped tightly into fists at his sides. He felt a repulsive crawling sensation where she touched him, a stark contrast to the way the "plot" was forcing his head to stay bowed in her presence.

As she finished, Alina leaned in close to his ear, her voice a whisper. "There. All dry, my Lord."

Dante instantly stood up the moment she was done, the air in the room feeling far too cramped. "Return to your room, Alina," he said He didn’t wait for her response before leaving her standing there in the middle of his room.

Alina left the room with a skip in her step, her face glowing with triumph. She hummed a sweet, haunting melody as she walked down the hall toward her own quarters. "After four days, it won’t be your wedding, Viella, but mine," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with malice.

Meanwhile, Dante entered his private office and closed the door with a violent SLAM that echoed through the quiet wing of the mansion.

He marched over to the bar, grabbed a bottle of vintage wine, and poured himself a glass. He drained it in one aggressive gulp and then smashed the crystal glass against the fireplace mantle.

He needed the burn. He needed to feel something other than the suffocating "warmth" the plot was forcing down his throat every time Alina was near.

He walked to his desk and yanked open the heavy bottom drawer. He reached for the large box he kept hidden there, but He immediately noticed the smaller bracelet box was missing.

A dark, mocking chuckle escaped his lips. "Tsk. What a foolish girl," he muttered, his eyes narrowing. "Took the box and she doesn’t even know the bracelet she’s looking for isn’t even inside."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, ornate silver key. He inserted it into the hidden lock of the actual large box and turned it. With a heavy click, the lid popped open.

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TO BE CONTINUED.