5- A Predator's World 

**Dante's POV**

I closed the door behind me, the quiet click of the latch settling in the otherwise still house. Her scent lingered in the hallway, faint but undeniable—a mixture of fear and something softer, something that shouldn’t have piqued my interest, but it did. I clenched my fists, pushing the thought aside.

I didn’t need this distraction. Not now.

The girl—Elena. She wasn’t supposed to matter. She was an inconvenience. A problem that should have been handled the moment she saw too much. But instead of dealing with her, I let her live. Why?

I stalked down the hallway, the sound of my footsteps echoing off the marble floors. My mind was racing, trying to grasp at a reason, an explanation that didn’t make me sound like I was losing control. I wasn’t. I *couldn’t* be. Control was everything. I’d built my entire life around that one principle—control over my men, control over my enemies, and most importantly, control over myself.

So why did I hesitate when it came to her?

When I reached my study, I shoved the door open and stepped inside, the weight of the world pressing down harder as I crossed the room. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the shelf and poured a generous amount into a glass. The amber liquid swirled as I raised it to my lips, but even that didn’t calm the storm brewing inside me.

“Dante.”

I turned, glass still in hand, as Antonio stepped into the room. He was my second-in-command, and probably the only man I trusted enough to speak freely around.

“What?” I barked, more harshly than I intended.

He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. “The men are ready for tomorrow. We’ve got a shipment coming in from the port. Everything’s in place.”

I nodded, setting the glass down on the desk. “Good. Anything else?”

Antonio’s eyes flickered toward the door, then back to me. “You tell me.”

I tensed, knowing exactly what he was asking without needing to hear the words. Antonio was sharp, and nothing escaped his notice. He knew about the girl, Elena. He’d seen the way I handled her earlier, and he didn’t approve. I could see it in the set of his jaw, the flicker of doubt in his usually steady gaze.

“She’s still alive,” he said, crossing his arms. “Why?”

I clenched my jaw, turning away from him to look out the window. The view outside was nothing but shadows and darkness, much like the inside of my own head. “She’ll serve her purpose.”

“What purpose?” Antonio’s voice was low, dangerous. “She’s a witness, Dante. A liability. You know the rules—no loose ends.”

I turned back to face him, my eyes narrowing. “I make the rules.”

He didn’t flinch, but his expression didn’t soften either. “You do. But the men talk. They see weakness.”

I stepped closer, my voice a cold whisper. “Do I look weak to you, Antonio?”

“No,” he replied quickly, but there was no hesitation in his voice. “But keeping her alive sends a message. You’re protecting her for some reason, and I need to know why.”

I stared at him for a long moment, the tension between us thickening. Antonio wasn’t challenging me out of disrespect; he was one of the few who had earned the right to ask questions. But even that had its limits.

“You think I care what the men say?” I asked, my voice low and cold. “You think I care if they talk?”

Antonio didn’t back down. “You should. This is how cracks form. One little hesitation, one sign that you’re not following through, and they’ll start questioning every decision you make.”

“I’m not hesitating,” I snapped, my patience wearing thin. “I’m *calculating*. You don’t kill someone without understanding the full consequences.”

“She’s just a girl,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “What consequences could there possibly be?”

I didn’t answer right away. I couldn’t tell him the truth because I didn’t even understand it myself. The girl wasn’t important. She shouldn’t have been. But something about the way she looked at me, the fear and defiance warring in her eyes—it unsettled me. Made me question something deep down, something I wasn’t ready to confront.

“Leave her to me,” I finally said, my voice firm. “She’s not your concern.”

Antonio studied me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine for something I wasn’t willing to give.

Finally, he nodded, though I could tell he wasn’t satisfied. “Fine. But don’t let this become a problem, Dante. You’ve got too much on the line.”

I watched him turn and leave the room, his footsteps fading down the hall. The moment the door clicked shut, I exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over my face. Antonio was right—this was a problem. I didn’t need someone like her complicating things, especially not with everything else I had to deal with. Tomorrow’s shipment was risky enough, and I couldn’t afford distractions.

But there was something else eating at me, something that wasn’t as simple as logistics and power plays. That girl... Elena. She didn’t fit into this world, and that was the issue. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t deserve to be tangled up in my mess. I should’ve killed her when I had the chance. I knew that.

So why didn’t I?

I poured another glass of whiskey and downed it, trying to drown out the questions. There was no place for doubt in my world. No room for second guesses.

I walked back toward the window, staring out at the night, the cold darkness stretching out before me. Tomorrow, the real work would begin. The girl would have to prove herself, prove she wasn’t just another liability. If she didn’t, there wouldn’t be any hesitation next time.

A knock interrupted my thoughts, and I turned as the door opened once more. It was Marco, one of my guards, his face expressionless but his body tense.

“The girl,” he started, clearing his throat. “She’s asking for food.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Already?”

He nodded. “Seems like she’s not as weak as you thought.”

I smirked, the edge of the glass pressing against my lips. “Interesting.”

Marco shifted his weight, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. “What should we do?”

I glanced toward the door, as if I could see her through the walls. She was a problem, no doubt about that. But maybe... just maybe, she had some fight in her after all.

“Give her what she needs,” I said, turning back to the window. “For now.”

Marco nodded and left, and I downed the last of the whiskey. Tomorrow would be the test. If she made it through, I’d know whether or not she was worth keeping around.

And if not... well, I didn’t need weak people in my world.

I smirked to myself, the coldness returning as I walked back to my desk. Either way, I’d get my answer soon enough.

But for now, the girl was just another piece on the board. And I always played to win.