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5. Forbidden Temptation
Huling Na-update:
2024-10-31 17:43:53Dante's POV.
I leaned in, close enough that I could taste the tension in the air. "Curious if that sharp mouth of yours is worth all the trouble it causes," I murmured, tracing my thumb over her lips. "Or if you're just all talk.”
A flash of anger lit her gaze, a spark that only seemed to fuel the amusement I felt building with me. But I held her gaze, my thumb was still resting against her mouth. She was helpless here, her hands tied, her body tensed under my stare, but her eyes...those damn hazel eyes...still held their challenge.
"Go on, then," she sneered, her voice defiant. "Do your worst.”
The words hung in the air, her voice daring, but I noticed that faint tremble behind them, a hesitation that gave her away.
I raised an eyebrow, letting a slight smirk pull at my mouth. "Is that a challenge?"
Her lips pressed into a thin line, the fire in her eyes flaring, but she didn't answer. For a second, I was just...staring, captivated by the strange mix of strength and vulnerability she wore like a shield. But I couldn't shake growing urge to test that boldness, to see how much of this was real and how much was simply armor.
My hand shifted, fingers moving along her jaw, then back to her lips, my thumb tracing their shape slowly, deliberately. Her breathing was unsteady, and I could feel the faint quiver in her body, but she stood still, not pulling away, watching me with those fierce ejes as though daring me to take it further.
What are you doing, Dante? The question rang in my mind, but I pushed it aside.
I leaned in, close enough to see the pulse flickering at her throat, the barely concealed fear in her gaze. She wasn’t backing down, but the defiance in her eyes was filled with uncertainty. Still, she kept that chin high, those lips set in a way that tempted me to see if she’d break.
My hand moved on its own, drifting down to brush my fingers along her cheek. I could see the shock spread across her face, but she held steady, her lips parting slightly as she tried to figure out what I was doing.
“Not so sharp now, are you?” I murmured, tracing the edge of her mouth with my thumb.
Her breath hitched, and for a second, the fire in her eyes softened…just a flicker, a crack in that armor. But as quickly as it had slipped, it returned. Her mouth curved into a small, mocking smile, and she spoke, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Do you do this with all your captives, or am I just lucky?”
I clenched my jaw, feeling that strange mix of anger and amusement coil tighter. She wasn’t breaking like I’d expected. If anything, her sarcasm just made her more intriguing, her refusing to break, more tempting to test. I leaned closer, my thumb staying at her lips, the urge to silence her in one way or another pressing at me.
“Keep talking like that, and you’ll find out,” I warned with my voice low. But it didn’t have the effect I wanted. Instead of cowering, she held her ground, a flash of boldness still in those hazel eyes.
“Is that supposed to scare me?” she shot back, her voice not too audible, but filled with a strength that defied her position.
The air grew thick between us, filled with tension that neither of us seemed willing to break. I felt myself leaning in, closer than I intended, my gaze fixed on those damn lips.
I watched her carefully, my eyes narrowing as her lips twisted, her eyes blazing even in her worn state. For someone tied up and cornered, she had a spark I hadn’t expected, and it was starting to grate on me. Every retort, every sarcastic barb—it was as if she was testing how far she could go, how much she could push.
“What?” I asked coldly, crossing my arms as I waited for her to come back with yet another remark.
She raised an eyebrow, meeting my gaze. “You think I’m scared of you, don’t you?”
A dark chuckle escaped me. “I know you are. You’d be a fool not to be.”
Her boldness only grew, lips twisting into a mocking smile that made me want to wipe it clean off her face. But I couldn’t deny it…there was something there. Something raw and unfiltered, like she was daring me to see her as anything other than the weak pawn her brother had handed over.
I took a step closer, close enough that I could see her breathing quicken, see the stubborn fire in her gaze waver just slightly. “You talk big for someone in your position.”
Her chin lifted, hazel eyes locking onto mine. “I’m not just ‘someone,’ and I won’t be treated like some bargaining chip. Not by you, and certainly not by Marcus.”
I couldn’t help the smirk that pulled at my mouth, her audacity almost laughable. My hand lifted, fingers grazing her cheek before trailing down to hover just above her lips. I could feel her breath hitch, see the struggle between fear and defiance playing out on her face.
“And what exactly are you going to do about it?” I murmured, my thumb brushing over her lower lip.
For a second, I could see her hesitate, a flash of uncertainty crossing her face. But then her expression hardened, and she m
et my gaze the fire in her eyes refusing to die out.
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The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive 6. Bound And Unbroken
Elena's POV.The door clicked shut, and I exhaled a shaky breath as Dante finally left. The tension in my shoulders started to ease, but my heart still hammered in my chest, half-expecting him to change his mind and storm back in, deciding I’d outlasted his patience. Each word I’d said felt like walking into quicksand…dangerous, unpredictable, and he’d kept meeting my every comeback with that look, the one that told me he wasn’t used to being challenged. I hadn’t exactly expected him to be amused by it.The ropes were biting into my wrists, rough enough to scrape my skin raw. I twisted my hands a little, trying to get even a hint of relief, but all I got was a deeper ache. I wanted to scream in frustration. So, what now? Was I just supposed to stand here like some prize waiting to be claimed? Helpless, irritated, and still recovering from my confrontation with the devil himself, I was left wondering how long I’d have to endure this.Suddenly, the door opened again, and I held my breat
The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive 7. A Feast For The Starved And Willing
Elena's POV."Eat up," Carla said, giving me a measured look as she placed the tray on the small table in the corner of the room. "Boss’s orders."I forced my voice to stay steady. “He’s… feeding me?” The disbelief in my tone was hard to mask.Carla shrugged, giving me a small, almost sympathetic smile. “Let’s just say he doesn’t like loose ends.”Right. That sounded about right. Feed me before he kills me.As soon as Carla left, I slid the door shut, taking a long moment to stare at the feast in front of me. Roast chicken with crispy, golden skin that looked like it’d crack under a knife. Fresh vegetables, sautéed with garlic and butter. A warm roll, straight from the oven, with a small pad of melting butter on top. And a chocolate dessert that gleamed under the lighting, like it belonged in some five-star restaurant I’d never step foot in.My stomach roared, and I couldn’t stop myself. I dug in, tearing at the bread like it was the only thing holding me together. The warm, flaky cru
The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive 8: Captive Thoughts
Dante's POV.The lights were low, has shadows across the room, turning every curve, every movement, into something primal. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and sweat, a blend of desperation and desire. Around me, my men were lost in pleasure, tangled in limbs, mouths locked in passion, oblivious to the world. Women spread themselves over them, a mess of silk, skin, and sin. They were exactly where they wanted to be, and yet, I stood there, fully dressed, in the middle of an orgy.A brunette with a sharp jawline slid up to me, pressing her bare body against my side. Her hands trailed down my chest, teasing, challenging. “Dante,” she whispered, lips brushing against my ear. “Don’t you want to play?”I stared ahead, ignoring her, my jaw clenched. She pulled back, her eyes searching mine with a small pout, clearly not used to being dismissed. I saw the confusion flash across her face before she turned away, off to find someone who would appreciate her offer. Around me, women vi
The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive 9. The Dress Up
Elena's POV I was deep in a dream, laughing with my older brother, Marcus, as we threw rocks into the lake. He looked so real, his face full of joy like when we were kids, and I felt... safe. Then, a sharp knock pulled me from that warmth. My eyes shot open, heart pounding, and I realized the laughter, the lake…all of it was just a dream. The knock came again, louder, more insistent. "Miss Elena?" A soft voice came from the other side of the door. I sat up, blinking, still a bit dazed. No one ever called me “Miss” here. It didn’t feel like an endearment; it felt... unsettling. “Who is it?” I managed, my voice harsh and wary. The door creaked open, and two young women slipped inside. They looked like servants, dressed in crisp uniforms, faces calm but unreadable. “We’ve come to assist you, Miss Elena,” the first one said with a slight bow. “On the master’s orders.” The master’s orders? I stiffened, feeling the pit of unease grow in my stomach. Why would Dante send maids
The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive 10: Breaking The Untamed
Dante's POV. The early morning sun filtered through the blinds, had lines of light across my office. I sat behind the heavy mahogany desk, fingers drumming, lost in thoughts that no amount of coffee could shake loose. Beside me stood Enzo, my most trusted man. He waited, arms crossed, his face impassive as always. But there was something different in his gaze…something that told me he had news, and that I probably wouldn’t like it. He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Boss, we’ve got a situation,” he started, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. “Angelo’s back in town.” The name hit me like a shot, my fingers stilling on the desk. Angelo. Once, he’d been more than just an ally; he’d been a brother. We built this empire together, clawed our way up through blood, grit, and back-alley deals. But that all ended the night he betrayed me, the night he thought he could take everything I’d built and call it his own. “Where is he?” I asked, my voice cold and sharp, laced with a
The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive 11: A Dance Of Deviance
Elena's POV.I was escorted, my wrists still sore from the earlier restraints, into another part of the mansion. The air felt thick, a strange chill wrapping around me, and my heart pounded, not just from fear, but from frustration. The maids had done their job well, dressing me up in that ridiculous dress, twisting my hair and slathering on makeup. The last thing I needed was to look like some doll on display, but it seemed that was exactly what Dante had in mind.The heavy doors slammed shut behind me as I stepped into the room. The atmosphere was... different. There was a haze of smoke, the kind you’d find in some nightclub. It moved, swirling around, thick and suffocating. And then, like the scene from some twisted fantasy, sultry music began to play. The beat was slow, deliberate, as if it was meant to seduce and control. I hated it. Every second of it.The smoke parted slowly, like curtains drawing back to reveal a performance I hadn’t asked for, and there he was.Dante.He was
The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive 12. Defying the Devil
Elena's POV The words were coarse, brutal, leaving no room for misunderstanding. I could feel the heat of his breath against my skin, his hand coming up to brush my cheek with a strange, almost mocking gentleness. His fingers lingered, trailing down my face, as if savoring the defiance that tightened my jaw and the fury in my glare.Every instinct in me screamed to back away, to run. But there was nowhere to go, no chance of escape. I forced myself to stand my ground, heart pounding as he stared at me down, his intentions clear, his gaze dark and firm.The moment his fingers reached for the neckline of my dress, I felt rage surge through me…hot and fierce. This was my last straw. I couldn’t stand here, a mere object for him to discard when he’d had his fill. I didn’t think; I just acted. My hand flew up, smacking him hard across the cheek.He went absolutely still.“That’s right, Dante!” I shouted, my voice shaking with anger. “You don’t own me. I am not here for your entertainment!”
The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive 13. Torn Between Control and Obsession
Dante's POV.I watched her walk away, that small, defiant firebrand of a girl, clutching her torn dress like it was her shield. My cheek still stung from her slap, the sting sharper than any knife wound I’d taken. I raised a hand to touch where she’d hit me, half-expecting to feel blood, though that would have been less humiliating. A slap from a petite, twenty-one-year-old woman. Me, Dante Moretti, one of the most feared men in this damned city, slapped by a woman who should have been too scared to breathe in my presence.I couldn't wrap my mind around it. None of my men would dare raise a hand to me. Hell, even my so-called friends know better than to cross me like that. And here she was…Elena. Thrown into my life by her bastard brother, who’d all but served her up on a silver platter. And somehow, in the days she’d been here, she’d managed to set something loose in me that I hadn’t felt in years. It wasn’t just lust. No, that would’ve been easier to control. She’d gotten under my s
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The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive 22: A Wrinkle In Crime (I)
Elena's POVThe smell of cigar smoke and expensive cologne was thick in the air, making me nauseous. My knees were weak, partly from fear and partly from the ridiculous shoes Dante’s team had shoved onto my feet. The false teeth in my mouth were making it difficult to breathe, let alone talk, and I cursed Dante for putting me in this situation. I was disguised as an old woman…a frail, hunched-over figure supposedly reunited with her long-lost son.The "son" in question, however, was none other than Lorenzo "The Butcher" Bellucci. His name alone sent chills down my spine, and now here he was, standing before me with a trembling lip and watery eyes. Lorenzo was a large man, thick with muscle, his suit straining against his chest. His presence was as suffocating as the smoke-filled room, and he sniffled loudly, his eyes scanning me with disbelief and desperation."Madre?" he whispered, his voice trembling. His men exchanged glances, their beefy frames blocking every exit. I forced myself
The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive 21: An Unlikely Disguise
Elena's POV.The fourth day arrived, and I was sitting on the bed, poking at the bowl of tasteless soup Clara had left for me. My throat still ached, but the pain was bearable compared to the frustration bubbling inside me. It had been four days since I last saw Dante. Four days of silence, unanswered questions, and restless nights. And then, just like that, the door to my room burst open.Dante walked in, his towering frame and cold, commanding presence filling the space. For a second, I forgot to breathe."You’re better now," he said, his voice sharp and unwavering. "I need you to work with me."I blinked at him, stunned. “Excuse me? Work with you?” My voice cracked slightly, and I winced, but I didn’t stop. “You vanish for four days, and now you show up like nothing happened? Are you insane?”Dante didn’t flinch. He didn’t react at all. His dark eyes bore into mine, unreadable and cold.Before I could say more, he motioned to the men behind him. “Take her.”“What…no! Don’t you dare
The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive 20: Unwanted Concern
Elena's POVThe pain was endless. It wrapped around my throat tightly, squeezing with every breath I took. I tried to swallow, even just the thought of swallowing hurt. The only thing I could manage was the lukewarm broth Clara brought me, and even that felt like I was drinking shards of glass.I stared at the tray on the bedside table. The small bowl of soup mocked me. I hadn’t eaten properly in two days. My stomach growled angrily, but the thought of attempting to sip more liquid made my eyes water.“Come on, Elena,” I whispered to myself, my voice raspy and barely audible. “You need to eat something.”I picked up the spoon with trembling hands, but as soon as the first sip touched my tongue, my throat rebelled. I coughed violently, tears streaming down my face as the pain shot through me like fire.Clara rushed into the room, her face pale with worry. “Elena, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself more,” she said, gently taking the spoon from me.“I... I need to eat,” I rasped, my voi
The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive 19: Nightmares and Attack
Dante's POVThe nightmare came again, dragging me into its merciless grip.I was running…lungs burning, legs heavy, my blood soaking through the shirt I had pressed against the wound on my side. Every step echoed in my head, the thud of my shoes against the ground blending with the screams. I pushed through the door, desperate, calling her name."Isabella!"Her name ripped from my throat like a prayer, but what greeted me was the sight of her crumpled on the floor, her pale hands clutching her swollen belly. Blood. So much blood."Isabella!" I dropped to my knees, shaking her, begging her to open her eyes. But they were lifeless, staring at nothing. My hands were wet with her blood as I held her close, her warmth fading as I screamed into the void.And then her lips moved…not with words, but with a final, fleeting breath. The baby...our baby...gone."No!" I roared, thrashing against the memory, but it wouldn't let me go.The sound of my own voice woke me, yanking me back to reality. I
The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive 18: Unsettling Vulnerability
Dante's POV.I stood by the doorway, my arms crossed, my face set in a cold mask, but inside, there was a tugging irritation, a feeling I rarely entertained. Elena lay on the bed, her skin pale, her breathing still labored as she tried to rest. I hadn’t planned on seeing her like this, hadn’t expected to feel the grip of tension that had lodged in my chest when that damn bone had gotten stuck in her throat.Damn it, she wasn’t supposed to have this effect on me. She was nothing more than a pawn in a bigger game, a woman tossed my way as payment for her brother’s betrayal. And yet, I hadn’t expected her to be so… stubborn. So aggravatingly defiant, even when faced with someone like me. Her boldness was endless, enough to leave an imprint.I watched as Dr. Marco worked carefully, his expression calm and unhurried. Marco had been with me and my men for years, stitching up bullet wounds, setting broken bones, never batting an eye. But even he seemed to take his time with Elena, his hands
The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive 17: Choke
Elena's POV.I sat alone in my room, waiting, my heart pounding in my chest. Every sound in the house felt like it was Dante coming to finally make good on his threats. Part of me was sure that he’d storm in any moment, a dark shadow ready to end me. But the hours passed, and nothing happened.Then, finally, there was a knock on the door. My heart leapt, fear tightening my throat. I steeled myself, prepared to see Dante’s cold eyes on the other side. But it wasn’t him. It was one of his men. He was stone-faced, giving nothing away, just standing there with his dark suit and unreadable expression.“Mr. Moretti wants to see you,” he said flatly.My heart sank. So, it was time. I forced myself to get up, refusing to let my fear show. If this was how it would end, I’d at least face him with my pride intact. I wouldn’t beg. I wouldn’t show weakness.The walk to the dining room felt endless, the halls lined with men who looked at me as though I were some fragile thing about to break. Their
The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive 16: Blood and Memories
Dante's POV. The crowd parted as I walked through the square, their eyes wide with fear, parents pulling their children back, vendors abandoning their carts. Whispers of my name slithered through the air, and it was exactly what I wanted. I wanted them to see. To know what happened when loyalty was a lie. I spotted Luca first, cowering against a fruit stall, his face pale and trembling. When he locked eyes with me, he looked like he’d seen the devil himself. Good. That’s what I was to them…a devil in human form. “Dante…” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. I took a step closer, narrowing my eyes. “Is that all you have to say, Luca? After you betrayed everything you owed to me?” My voice was cold, each word a shard of ice sinking into him. He began to stammer, his hands raised, palms out as if he could ward me off. “Boss, please… it wasn’t… I didn’t…” “Didn’t what?” I leaned in, close enough to see the sweat beading on his forehead. “Didn’t sell me out to Ange
The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive 15: His Surprising Grand Gesture
Elena's POV.The night seemed to stretch on endlessly, each hour blending into the next, and I sat alone in my room, the silence pressing in on me heavily. I couldn’t escape the unease that tugged at me, the constant uncertainty of what Dante might do next. I had no control over my fate, no idea what his next move would be. And that was the most terrifying part…his unpredictability.I wasn’t sure how long I had been sitting there, mind racing with questions I couldn’t answer, when the door to my room creaked open. My heart leapt in my chest, fear coursing through me. But when I looked up, it wasn’t Dante who stood in the doorway.It was two of his men, their eyes cold and unreadable as they stepped aside, allowing another figure to enter the room. This time, it wasn’t some casual delivery or a routine check. There was something different about the way they moved, the way the air seemed to thicken around them.The man in front of them was holding something large and wrapped in black c
The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive 14: Just Like Poison
Elena's POV.I sat at the edge of the bed, clutching my knees to my chest as the room spun in dizzying circles. The air felt heavy, thick with the smell of my own fear. My heart hammered in my chest, an endless drumbeat that never seemed to stop. I knew Dante would storm in at any moment. I could feel his presence hovering like a shadow over me, suffocating me with each breath I took.I’d expected it…him barging in, furious, and probably ending me right then and there. The slap. The defiance. He wouldn’t let it go. It was a matter of pride for him. A dangerous man, one who had made a reputation for destroying everything in his path. And I had dared to defy him.But nothing happened. Hours had passed. Time stretched on, thick and oppressive, and yet no footsteps came to my door. No shout, no knock, no angry command. I couldn’t stop myself from waiting, though. Waiting for the sound of his boots against the floor, the door slamming open, his cold, venomous eyes locking onto mine.But th
