4. Intrigued

Dante's POV.

As I made my way to the room, it was the middle of the night, hours after I'd handled that betrayal. Bloodstains had long dried on my cuff, a reminder that some people needed their fate handed to them in pieces. That idiot Marcus hadn't been any different, trading his own sister like she was some bargaining chip. It still amazed me how daily a man could see his soul…and in this case, his family, for a little relief from debt. But now, I was left with the baggage he'd dropped at my doorstep.

The girl was in the room at the far end, the one we typically reserved for prisoners with... potential. Her name was still in my head; Elena. The name suited her, sharp but delicate. Yet, I wasn't sure what she thought she could do here, trussed up and at my mercy. I pushed the door open, letting it creak closed behind me.

She was standing next to the window, hands and legs still bound in ropes, like a pathetic figure standing against the city lights. Her hair, which was still damp from the rain, hung in unkempt strands, framing a face that held fire despite her helplessness.

She didn't even flinch. Instead, she turned and when her eyes met mine, I saw it...the kind of fire that either dies out quickly or burns everything in its path. I raised an eyebrow, attempting to speak, but it was her who broke the silence.

"You're wasting your time, you know." Her voice was strong, carrying a slight rasp, maybe from not talking for sometime. "Whatever Marcus told you, I'm worth about as much as an empty glass. Useless. Broken. Take your pick."

I let a smirk curve the corner of my mouth. "Is that so? Should I have gone for the glass instead of the girl?"

"Maybe. At least it wouldn't talk back." Her voice was laced with sarcasm, and for a second, I found myself almost amused. This girl was either ignorant of trying to pull some twisted trick, as if I was here for her entertainment.

She kept going, her tone not missing a beat. "And Marcus? He's about as reliable as a clock with no hands. You know that, right? He'll bleed you dry and run off the second he has a chance."

"Interesting. So, you're saying I should have killed him instead?”

Her eyes flashed, but there was no fear there... Just pure defiance. "Wouldn't have made a difference to me. He's done it already, hasn't he? Brought me here like I'm some kind of...I don't know, cheap pawn for you to push around. But don't expect me to play nice."

She stared at me, and there was a brief moment of silence before I asked, "Would you rather I kill you?"

For a moment, her boldness wavered, and I saw something flicker in her eyes. Fear, maybe, but it vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. She swallowed, lifting her chin defiantly, "Go ahead. Kill me. It's better than ending up as... whatever you think I'm here to be. I'd rather be dead than your puppet or your... bed warmer.”

A chuckle escaped me. She was amusing, I'd give her that. It had been a long time since anyone had the audacity to speak to me like that, especially when they were standing there, bound, practically gift-wrapped. But I wasn't used to this kind of nerve, the sheer absurdity of it.

I took a step closer, eyes narrowing as I studied her face. There was a rawness in her words that was almost ridiculous, but I could see it was real. She was trying to convince herself of her own courage, but that little twitch in her jaw, the shallow breaths...she was terrified. And yet, her eyes never left mine. Stubborn.

"Tell me, Elena," I drawled, leaning in just to catch her reaction, "do you know what happens to people who test me?”

“What's the worst thing you can do apart from letting me die a slow and painful death?”

She didn't back down. Not even a flicker of fear, despite the ropes binding her, despite the cold ruthlessness she'd just witnessed. It was almost as if she was daring me to break her spirit. Her sharp, stubborn gaze never wavered, stirring up an emotion that only seemed to intensify with every word that came out of her mouth.

"Keep running that mouth, and we'll see where it gets you," I warned, my voice low but the edge it in was unmistakable. I wanted her to see that I wasn't one to be played with. But her lips quirked in a sarcastic smile, and she tilted her chin defiantly.

"You think threats work on me?" She scoffed, her voice laced with sarcasm. "I've been betrayed by my own blood. What do you think you can do that's worse than that?"

I clenched my jaw, a slice of annoyance coursing through me. This girl, drenched and tied, was taunting me, as if she had any control over this situation. I leaned in, letting the menace gaze deepen. "So, you'd rather die than to keep that mouth in check?"

Her lips curved just slightly, and she met my stare with her own fierce one. "If that's what it takes to keep you from using me," she replied coldly. "So go ahead. Kill me if you must, I'd take that than be just another piece of property for you to play with."

Her words held a bitterness, a raw defiance that wasn't feigned. She’d barely flinched when I put a bullet through that traitor's head earlier. And now, here she was, defiant, even as the threat of her death hung thick in the air between us.

I smirked. She had spirit, I'd give her that. "Property?" I inquired, my voice dropping with a dangerous murmur. "You think I went through the trouble of collecting you just to keep you as some...prized possession?"

"If you didn't," she shot back, lifting her chin, "then let me go. Or is the great Dante Moretti afraid of a girl like me?"

A chuckle slipped out before I could stop it, dark and amused. "Afraid?" I asked, stepping closer. "Of you?"

I could feel the sharpness of her gaze as her eyes held mine, fierce and stubborn. But there was something else. Beneath her boldness, a slight tremor flickered in her expression. A tiny crack in her defiance. Yet, it only made me curious, more drawn in.

Without realizing it, I moved closer, enough that I could feel her shallow breaths against my chest. I reached up, bringing a hand to her face, fingers brushing across her cheek, cold and soft from the rain that still clung to get. She sucked in a quick breath, eyes widening, but she didn't pull away.

Those lips...damn her...they held my attention like a magnet. As if they were daring me, taunting me in the same way she had been since she opened that mouth of hers. The boldness in her gaze hadn't wavered, but the tension in her body betrayed her. She was afraid, though she tried so hard to hide it.

Curiosity drove me, a need to know if that boldness extended all the way through. I traced her cheek with my thumb, down to the line of her jaw and finally to her lips.

Soft, slightly parted, trembling under my touch. Something twisted in me, a strange surge of satisfaction at seeing her caught off guard, as if the confidence she wore like armor had finally cracked.

Her breathing hitched, and her eyes narrowed, suspicion and surprise mingling in her expression. She could probably feel how deliberate my touch was, how slow, how controlled.

"What are you doing?" She whispered, her voice not too audible, yet filled with venom.