Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Izzy's breath came in shallow gasps as the three men in suits took slow, deliberate steps toward her, their eyes locked with hers like predators closing in on their prey. Her body froze, and for a moment, she felt as though the walls of the diner were closing in, the air thick with the smell of stale coffee and fear.

"Don't make this difficult," one of the men said, his voice low and menacing.

Dante moved toward her, his every step commanding the room, his presence as overwhelming as ever. He stopped beside her, his eyes never leaving her face. The men in suits halted just a few feet away, their hands hovering near the guns tucked under their jackets.

Izzy felt a flicker of panic rise in her chest. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but her legs wouldn't cooperate. She could feel Dante's eyes on her, his gaze unreadable. He was so different now. The boy she once loved was long gone, replaced by a cold, calculating man who seemed to control everything in his path.

"These men work for me," Dante said, his voice a smooth velvet, but there was an edge to it—something darker beneath the surface. "You're coming with me, Izzy. You don’t have a choice."

Izzy’s throat tightened. "I’m not going anywhere with you," she said, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound firm.

Dante's eyes narrowed slightly, and for a fleeting moment, Izzy saw a flicker of something—a memory, maybe—pass through his gaze. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by the stone-cold mask of the mafia boss he’d become.

"I think you misunderstand," he said, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming her. "You will come with me, whether you want to or not. You’re a part of my world now. Always have been."

Izzy’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t be serious. The last time they’d seen each other, he had walked away, leaving her broken and pregnant with his child, without a word. How could he possibly claim she was “a part” of his world?

"Why now, Dante?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "After all this time? Why come back?"

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gave a slight nod to the men behind him, signaling them to move. Two of the men took a step toward her, their intentions clear. Izzy took a half-step back, her eyes darting between the suited men and Dante. She needed an escape, but her mind was blank, her body frozen in place.

Before things could escalate further, Dante raised his hand, halting them. He turned back to her, his dark eyes studying her with a strange intensity, like he was trying to figure her out—or perhaps, to remind her of what they once had.

“You think I came back because I missed you?” Dante asked, his voice colder now, devoid of the warmth it once carried. “No. I came back because you’re in trouble, Izzy. You’ve got people coming after you, and you don’t even know it yet.”

Izzy’s heart skipped. The fear that had been brewing in her chest blossomed into something more—a sickening certainty.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“You’ve been running from your past,” Dante said, his eyes narrowing. “And your past is about to catch up with you.”

Izzy felt a cold shiver run down her spine. Her past. The secrets she had buried deep inside her—the ones she thought she could escape. But now, standing in front of her was the one person who knew everything, and the one person who could destroy the fragile life she had built for her daughter.

The men in suits took another step forward, but Dante’s hand shot up again, stopping them. He turned back to her, his expression softening for the briefest of moments.

“You don’t have a choice,” he repeated, more gently this time. “I’m offering you a way out. A chance to keep your daughter safe.”

Izzy’s eyes flashed with anger. “Safe? By becoming your mistress?” she spat, her voice rising. “I’ve spent years trying to escape from your world, Dante. I’m not going back.”

His jaw clenched at her words, and for a moment, Izzy thought he might lash out, but instead, he exhaled slowly, his gaze softening just enough to make her second-guess everything.

“You think you have a choice? You think you can keep running from this?” His voice dropped, low and dangerous, like a promise. “Your daughter is my responsibility now, Izzy. She’s mine. And you... you belong to me. You always have.”

The words hit her like a slap to the face. She recoiled, her hand instinctively moving to her pocket, where the bill for Maya’s treatment weighed heavy against her skin.

“You’re wrong,” she said, her voice shaky but defiant. “She’s not yours.”

Dante’s lips curled into a smile that was both chilling and amused. “We’ll see about that.”

Before she could protest, one of the men behind him moved toward her with a firm grip on her arm. Izzy jerked away, but Dante’s sharp gaze stopped her.

“I said, you’re coming with me,” he repeated, his tone final.

Izzy looked around the diner, as if searching for some miracle that might save her. But there was no one here to help. No one who could stand up to the Vieri family.

Her eyes met Dante’s once more, and in that moment, she saw something more than just the cold mafia boss he’d become. There was something darker there, something tied to their past—a connection she couldn’t ignore.

But the cost of that connection was far too high.

“I won’t be your mistress,” she said, her voice firm, despite the fear gnawing at her insides. “You can’t make me.”

Dante’s gaze flickered with something unreadable. His lips parted as if he were about to speak, but then, without warning, he took a step closer to her, his presence suffocating. His hand reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face—an unexpected, almost tender gesture that caught her off guard.

“You’re already mine, Izzy,” he whispered, his voice low and intimate. “You always were.”