BLACK DRAGON'S REVENGE: FROM SERVANT TO NIGHTMARE

CHAPTER TWO

“You heard me,” Camilla said coolly. “You’ll marry me today.”

Dante’s mind reeled. “Miss Ashcroft… this isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking.”

The surrounding guests watched with open curiosity now. Phones were already rising, cameras flashing. Dante felt the weight of every stare pressing down on him.

“I… I can’t,” he said quietly.

Camilla tilted her head. “Why not?”

Because this was madness. Because he was a nobody who fixed pipes and delivered packages, while she was Camilla Ashcroft. But before he could find the words, she struck first.

“Your mother needs surgery, doesn’t she?”

Dante froze. “How do you—”

“And your sister,” she continued smoothly, “a first-year university student. Top of her class. Tuition isn’t cheap these days.”

Dante stared at her, stunned. “How do you know all that?”

Camilla’s lips curved. She remembered.

---

Two months earlier

Camilla had been walking past the estate’s administration office when raised voices echoed down the corridor. Dante stood before the head steward, fists clenched at his sides.

“Please,” Dante said, voice tight with desperation. “I just need six months’ advance pay. My mother’s surgery can’t wait any longer.”

The steward looked at him with open disdain. “Six months? You think this is a charity?”

“My sister’s tuition is due next month too,” Dante pressed on. “She’s one of the top students. I can’t let her drop out. I’ll work extra hours—anything. Just this once.”

The steward scoffed. “No one gets advance pay. And there’s no extra work for you.” His voice rose, drawing a small crowd of staff. “Maybe your family should learn to live within your means.”

Dante’s face burned with shame, but he didn’t back down. “I’m begging you.”

The steward laughed. “Pathetic. If you don’t get out of my office, I’ll fire you right now. Someone like you—with no qualifications, no education—where else do you think you’ll find work?”

At the far end of the corridor, Camilla had watched the entire exchange in silence. She clicked her tongue in irritation and walked away.

These low-class people always think they can demand things.

---

Now, months later, that memory sharpened into opportunity.

Camilla looked at Dante again. “Marry me, and I’ll pay for your mother’s surgery. I’ll also cover your sister’s entire education—tuition, books, living expenses—until she graduates.”

Dante felt the floor tilt beneath him. “What?”

“Medical bills. University fees. It’s nothing to me.”

His breathing grew shallow. This was a lifeline wrapped in chains. His mother had grown weaker every week. Elena was already working part-time just to stay in school. They were drowning.

“Why… why would you do this for someone like me?” he asked hoarsely.

Camilla smiled, cold and elegant. “Because I’m Camilla Ashcroft.” She leaned in slightly. “When have I ever needed to lie to someone like you?”

The whispers around them swelled. More phones were recording. Camilla stepped closer, her voice dropping so only he could hear.

“You should say yes. Otherwise, you can forget about working here again.” Her eyes turned to ice. “In fact, you can forget about finding work anywhere in this city.”

Dante’s chest tightened. Refuse, and his family would lose everything.

He closed his eyes for a long second. When he opened them, the decision had been made.

“…Fine.”

Camilla’s smile widened, small but satisfied. “Good.”

---

Within the hour, the ceremony resumed.

But this time, the man standing beside Camilla Ashcroft at the altar was not Dylan Pierce. It was Dante Morrell—a poor delivery worker no one had ever heard of.

The guests watched in stunned fascination as the vows were exchanged and rings placed on their fingers. The most powerful heiress in the city had just married a nobody.

When the applause finally filled the ballroom, Camilla leaned close to her new husband, her lips brushing his ear.

“Don’t misunderstand,” she whispered. “You’re just a tool.”

She pulled back immediately and smiled gracefully at the crowd. Then, loud enough for those nearby to hear, she added:

“Make sure my husband understands the rules of the Ashcroft household.”

Servants bowed their heads. “Yes, Miss Ashcroft.”

Dante stood motionless amid the applause, the weight of the ring heavy on his finger. In that moment, the truth settled over him like cold steel.

This marriage was not a salvation.

It was a cage.