Chapter 6

FLORA

I barely slept that night. Every noise made me jump as I kept wondering. Was it Dante's men watching me? Or someone else entirely? By morning, my nerves were shot, and the coffee I gulped down only made my hands shakier.

Rex arrived at exactly 8 AM, and his face was expressionless as he held the car door open.

"Good morning," I said, trying to sound normal.

He nodded in response. The whole drive was silent until his phone suddenly rang.

"Yes, sir," he answered before glancing at me in the rearview mirror. "I'll tell her."

When he hung up, he cleared his throat. "Mr. Romano wants you in his office immediately. Not at your desk. He wants you to go directly to him when we arrive."

My stomach dropped. "Did he say why?" I questioned him.

"It’s not my job to ask questions, Ms. Flora,” he responded.

Great, I thought. Something told me this wasn't about my filing system.

When we arrived, the office was eerily quiet. Vivian wasn't at her desk yet, and the lights in the outer office were still off. Rex escorted me straight to Dante's door, knocking twice before opening it.

Dante sat behind his massive desk, already impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit. Unlike yesterday, his expression was completely unreadable. Chills ran down my spine as I took him in.

"Leave us," he told Rex, who disappeared immediately, closing the door behind him.

"Sit," Dante commanded, gesturing to the chair across from him.

I did as I was told, trying to calm my racing heart. "Is something wrong?"

"That depends on you." He leaned forward, his dark eyes never leaving mine. "Like I made clear to you before, there are rules you'll have to follow if you want to survive in my world."

Before I could respond, he slid a thick document across the desk.

"What is this?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

"Your contract. Read it carefully."

I flipped through the pages, even though I’d already gone through the whole thing before when I signed it. My hands grew colder with each paragraph. Even though I’d read everything before, my heart was still beating erratically as I reread the contract that outlined my responsibilities as his secretary. It was all standard stuff about confidentiality and duties, but then it veered into territory no normal employment contract would touch. There were clauses about "absolute loyalty," "24-hour availability," and most disturbing, detailed consequences for betrayal.

"I’ve gone through all of this before,” I protested. “Or did you put in any new clause after then?”

Dante's smile didn't reach his eyes. "I just want you to fully understand the gravity of the situation you’re in.”

I put the contract down. Reading it again had instilled a new sense of fear in me. "I can't do this."

"You already agreed to the deal, Flora. You signed it too."

"I agreed to be your PA, not your prisoner."

He laughed just then, but the sound lacked any real humor. "You're not my prisoner. You're free to walk out that door." His expression hardened. "But then our arrangement ends completely."

I stood up even as my legs kept shaking. "Then maybe that's what I should do."

"Sit down." His voice was quiet but it carried such authority that I found myself obeying him immediately. "Before you make that decision, there's something you should know."

He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, then turned it to face me. On the screen was a hospital bill—my mother's hospital bill—marked as "PAID IN FULL."

My blood ran cold. "You already—"

"Yes, I did. Any more questions, Ms. Miller?” he asked.

"You paid it off? All of it?"

"Consider it an investment in your loyalty." His smile was predatory. "Of course, if you choose to leave, the debt would unfortunately be reinstated. With interest too."

I felt sick. He had me trapped. "That's blackmail,” I protested.

"That's business. Now get to work. Vivian will be here soon, and I have meetings all morning."

***

The morning passed in a blur as I threw myself into my work, trying not to think about the contract or what it meant. Around noon, the elevator doors opened, and I looked up to see two large men escorting a nervous-looking middle-aged man between them.

"Mr. Romano is expecting us," the larger of the two men said. His accent was thick.

I checked the schedule. "I don't see any appointment—"

"It's fine, Flora," Dante called from his office doorway. "Send them in."

The nervous man's eyes darted around like a cornered animal as they led him into Dante's office. This time, the door closed firmly, but the glass partition between Dante's office and the outer area was transparent enough that I could see what was happening inside.

Dante sat casually on the edge of his desk, speaking to the man who now sat rigidly in a chair. I couldn't hear the words, but the man's face grew increasingly pale. He was shaking his head vehemently as his hands gestured in denial.

Dante's expression didn't change. He just nodded to one of his men, who stepped forward smoothly. What happened next made my blood freeze.

The enforcer grabbed the man's right hand, bent it backward, and with precise movements, snapped one of his fingers.

I gasped, my hand immediately flying to my mouth. The man's scream was muffled by the glass, but his face contorted in agony. Dante continued talking, but his expression didn’t change. When the man shook his head again, another finger was broken.

I wanted to look away but I just couldn't. One by one, the enforcer methodically broke the man's fingers while Dante watched impassively. After the fourth finger, the man was sobbing and nodding desperately.

Dante smiled, patted the man's shoulder, and gestured toward the door. The two enforcers helped the now-broken man to his feet and led him out.

I quickly looked down at my computer, pretending to work as they passed. My hands were shaking badly, and I felt sick to my stomach.

A few minutes later, Dante approached my desk. I could feel his eyes on me but couldn't bring myself to look up.

"Are you alright?" he asked. His voice was surprisingly gentle.

I forced myself to meet his gaze. "Fine."

"You're pale."

"I'm always pale."

His lips twitched as if he were fighting a smile. "That man was stealing from me," he explained, as if that justified what I had just witnessed. "He has been skimming money from one of my clubs for months."

I said nothing. I didn’t trust my voice not to betray me.

Dante leaned closer, placing his hands on my desk. "Loyalty is everything in this world, Flora," he said coldly as his eyes studied my face. "Remember that."

He straightened up. "Cancel my lunch. I've lost my appetite."

As he walked back into his office, I let out the breath I'd been holding. What kind of monster had I tied myself to?

***

That night, after Rex dropped me home, I locked my door and collapsed onto my couch. The events of the day kept replaying in my mind—the contract, the broken fingers, and Dante's cold eyes as he spoke of loyalty.

I needed to know more about the man I now worked for. Opening my laptop, I searched for "Dante Romano" and began reading.

What I found made my blood run cold. Multiple articles detailed businesses mysteriously burning down after refusing his "protection." Others mentioned rivals disappearing after conflicts with Romano Enterprises. Nothing was ever proven, and no charges were ever filed, but the pattern was clear.

Dante wasn't just any businessman. He was the head of one of the city's most dangerous crime families, and his legitimate enterprises were merely a front for something much darker.

As I scrolled through more articles, my heart kept racing, and suddenly, the sharp buzz of my apartment intercom made me jump.

I froze, staring at the door. It was after 11 PM. Who would be visiting at this hour?

The buzzer sounded again. It was more insistent this time.

My hands were shaking as I approached the intercom. "Who is it?"

A woman's voice answered, one I didn't recognize. "Flora? It's Vivian. From the office. We need to talk."

Vivian was here?

Still, I hesitated, even as my finger hovered over the button.

"It's about Dante," she continued. Her tone sounded really urgent. "You're in danger. Please, let me in."

My finger pressed the button before I could think better of it. As I waited for her to come up the stairs, I wondered if I had just made a terrible mistake.