Life can be cruel. One moment you’re on the verge of reaching the peak of your career, your sweetheart of five years finally down on one knee, promising forever. The next, your world burns to ashes—literally. Now, I’m not just a prisoner; I’m the plaything of the most feared man in the country. I told myself I hated him, that I’d never break. But what kind of woman starts to crave the way he owns her body, the way his touch sets her on fire? How do you survive when the man who owns you is as ruthless as he is captivating? How do you escape a man who makes you question everything, even your sanity? ————- When her father’s PTSD causes a catastrophic accident, Lucia Castellano finds herself at the mercy of Dante Romano, a man whose name strikes fear into the heart of Chicago’s criminal underworld. Taken as a slave to pay for her father’s alleged crime, Lucia is thrust into a world of power and seduction she never imagined. Dante’s command is absolute, his touch both punishing and intoxicating. What starts as a fight for survival soon turns into a dangerous game of submission and trust. But as secrets surface and enemies close in, Lucia and Dante must confront their darkest fears to find freedom—and perhaps love—in the most unlikely of places. Author’s Note: This book contains explicit content, strong language, violence, and other adult themes that may be disturbing to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.
View MoreLucia’s POVI could still feel Dante’s hand on my waist, even though he wasn’t anywhere near me now. The pressure and control lingered on my skin.The ball was suffocating. There were too many stares, the murmurs behind elaborate masks, the stench of power and corruption, it all made me sick in the stomach.I needed to get away, even if only for a few minutes. So I had excused myself to use the restroom. I leaned against the counter, tightening my fingers around the cool porcelain sink. Everything about this night was wrong.I hated the way some of the women looked at me.. was it pity? Envy? Disgust? I couldn’t tell, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. And then there was the maid’s warning. I had no idea what she meant, but I wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the warning.Dante might think he owned me, that I was just some plaything to parade around, but I wasn’t going to sit back and let him decide my fate. If there was something—anything—that could give me an edge, I had to find it.Straig
Dante’s POV Lucia stood in the center of the room, arms crossed tightly over her chest, fire burning in her eyes. I had expected resistance, but she was far more stubborn than I had anticipated. “Where are we going?” she demanded, her voice sharp with anger. I adjusted the cuffs of my suit, not bothering to look at her. “No questions.” “No questions? After what I’ve heard about the so-called Ball? I’m not going anywhere.” A sigh left my lips as I pinched the bridge of my nose. This woman. She had a way of testing my patience like no other. I had taken many women to this event before—some trembling with fear, others eager to be paraded like trophies—but never had one refused. Never had one looked me in the eyes like they had a choice. “Lucia,” I said, stepping toward her, my voice calm. “You still don’t understand that I own you. Your body, your choices—” “You don’t own me,” she snapped, stepping closer, her chin lifted in defiance. “I’m not some object you can parade a
Lucia’s POV The hours turned into days, but I stayed in my room. Not because I was still in pain, I had already healed from the bruises. But because I didn’t know what else to do. This estate felt like a golden cage, and even though no one had locked me inside, I wasn’t exactly free. The maids came and went, bringing food I barely touched. One of them, a young woman around my age, maybe twenty-three or twenty-four, stayed longer than the others. Her name was Alina. At first, she didn’t say much, just tidying my things, folding and refolding my clothes like she wasn’t sure what to say. But after a while, she spoke. “I know things have been hard for you,” she said, smoothing out a dress. Her voice sounded calm, but with a hidden warning. “This house is safe, but only if you know where you stand.” I turned to her, my arms crossed. “And where do I stand?” She met my eyes, her expression unreadable. “That depends. Are you smart enough to survive?” A cold chill settled in my ches
Dante’s POVThe cemetery was quiet.I never stayed long when I visited. Not because I didn’t want to—I just never knew what to say. What could I say? Apologies meant nothing to the dead.I crouched beside the headstone, my fingers brushing against the engraved marble. My father’s name stood out in bold lettering. Leandro Romano. It had been sixteen years since he was gunned down in the streets, sixteen years since I’d taken over.But the guilt that settled in my chest didn’t belong to him.It belonged to them.I stood, shifting my gaze to the graves beside his. Elena Romano. Sofia Romano. Two names carved into stone, both stolen from me in the fire that burned our home to the ground. Ten years had passed, yet the flames still danced in my nightmares, licking at my skin, and filling my lungs with smoke.I could still hear Sofia screaming for me, her hands gripping at the locked door. I could still see my mother’s terrified eyes, the moment she realized I wouldn’t reach them in time.I
Lucia’s POVMy breath stilled as the detective’s gaze settled on me. His presence alone made the air feel heavier. I hadn’t expected to walk into this—to see him standing there, looking at me like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve.The worst part? He was close. Too close.I forced myself to relax, to smooth out my expression, but it was too late. He had seen my hesitation, and now he was interested.He smiled. “And who might you be?”Dante didn’t move, but I felt his presence shift like a predator sensing an approaching threat. His body was a barrier between me and the detective, but it wasn’t enough to stop the weight of the man’s scrutiny.I swallowed. “Lucia,” I said evenly.The detective’s eyes flickered, something unreadable flashing across his face before he nodded. “Lucia… You match a description I was given.”Dante’s posture stiffened. “That so?” His voice was smooth, but I could hear the lethal edge beneath it.The detective ignored him, keeping his focus on me. “I receiv
Dante’s POV“The Romano warehouse fire continues to make headlines, drawing comparisons to the tragic Romano estate fire years ago. In both cases, lives were lost, and in both cases, questions remain unanswered...”My jaw clenched.The media loved to stir up ghosts that should have stayed buried. They didn’t know what the hell they were talking about. The fire that took my family hadn’t been an accident or some careless mistake. It had been a goddamn execution, a message from men who thought they could erase the Romano name from history.They had failed.I drained my whiskey in one swallow, the burn doing nothing to calm the fire raging inside me. I poured another, barely paying attention to the news playing in the background. The comparisons to my past were nothing more than fuel to the fire… a reminder that some wounds never fucking heal.I had intended to see Lucia, maybe even explain why I had missed the date I planned.What was I even thinking? I brought her here to suffer for wh
Lucia’s POVThe sharp voice of the news anchor startled me awake, pulling me out of my restless sleep. I must have dozed off watching the news, but as my eyes opened, the screen was still filled with the same harsh accusation.My hands clenched into fists as rage filled my chest.“This is how they do it,” i muttered under her breath. “They don’t need facts. They just twist words until people believe the worst.”I suddenly felt sick. The media didn’t know my father, they didn’t know the man who had worked tirelessly to provide for his family, who had built his reputation through sweat and sacrifice. He wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t reckless.. at least, not intentionally.I grabbed the remote and shut off the TV, breathing heavily. The more they dragged my father’s name through the mud, the more certain i became that this wasn’t just about the fire. Someone wanted him ruined to cover up their tracks. And I had a pretty good idea who.No.I wouldn’t let them do this.Throwing off the bla
Lucia’s POVThe moment I stepped out of that conference room, I sucked in a shaky breath. But it did little to steady the pounding in my chest. The murmurs of the reporters faded, but I could still feel Dante’s sharp and cold gaze on me.I had made a terrible mistake challenging him in front of his people, and in front of the media. I knew the rules. Knew what it meant to speak out of turn, to embarrass a man like him. Yet, I had done it anyway, unable to hold my tongue when they dragged my father’s name through the mud.“My father is innocent.” I could still hear my own voice echoing in my head.Foolish.I had barely made it down the hall when I heard heavy footsteps behind me. My breath caught as a firm grip closed around my wrist, yanking me into an empty room before I could react.Dante.The door banged shut behind us, cutting off the noise from the hallway. The air between us felt charged, as his fingers remained wrapped around my wrist—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to
Dante's PovThe fire at the warehouse was like a crack in the dam. I could feel everything I’d built, everything I was, threatening to crumble. Sitting in my private library, I swirled the whiskey in my glass, staring at it as if it held the answers to all my problems. It didn’t. It never did.I never asked for this life. At eighteen, I should’ve been worrying about college or girls, not burying my father and inheriting his bloodstained empire. My mother, though, she had always insisted I carry the torch. She called it our legacy. I called it a curse.Then came that night. The one I see every time I close my eyes. The smoke still clings to my nightmares. My mother’s screams. My sister’s cries. I tried to save them. God knows I tried. But I failed.They were gone in an instant. I barely escaped myself, crawling through blood and ash, barely holding on until one of my father’s men, Gabriel Rucci, saved me. I owe him my life.But when I woke from that nightmare, something inside me snapp
Lucia’s POV“Kneel!” His voice echoed through the hall. My entire body shook in fear as tears stung my eyes, but I bit down hard on my lower lip, refusing to let them fall. The sharp taste of blood only reminded me of how real this nightmare was.Laughter erupted from the men around him. They all mocked me. My shoulders slumped in defeat as Dante moved to pick up the heavy chains lying in the corner of the room.The air reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. Soft Latino music played from the speakers, creating a bizarre contrast to the suffocating tension. To them, it was a paradise, but for me, it felt like hell.“I said kneel, you crazy bitch.” His voice was colder this time. Before I could react, he stormed toward me and yanked my hair, forcing me down.I yelped in pain, gritting my teeth as his grip tightened. The men laughed harder, their amusement feeding his cruelty.The saddest part was that it wasn’t always like this. Just yesterday, I was the happiest woman alive. My boyfriend of...
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