Dante's POV. My heart pounded, not from fear of the bullets…I’d faced them too many times to count, but because I had her to think about now. “Stay close!” I barked, glancing back. Her face was pale, her wide eyes darting around the scene as if trying to process the madness unfolding around us. “What’s happening, Dante?” Her voice trembled, but there was a sharp edge of demand in it. “Not now,” I said tersely, yanking her to the side as a bullet whizzed past us, close enough that I felt its heat. My instincts screamed for action, but I shoved them down, focusing on finding cover. The park, once serene, was now a battlefield. Families abandoned picnic blankets, couples screamed as they dove for safety, and children clung to their parents, wailing. Angelo’s men were swarming, their black suits standing out among the fleeing civilians. “Over here!” I spotted an old maintenance building up ahead, its chipped walls offering some semblance of shelter. I pulled Elena toward it, weaving
Elena's POV.The storage room was chaos. Dante was a force of nature, firing with a precision that left no room for mistakes. I crouched low behind the crates, clutching my knees to my chest, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Every loud crack of gunfire made me flinch, but I couldn’t look away from him. He moved like he’d done this a thousand times, but the tension in his jaw told me he wasn’t invincible. Not here. Not now.And definitely not alone.“Dante!” I shouted over the noise. My voice cracked, but I didn’t care. He didn’t even glance my way, his focus locked on the men flooding the room.“We’re not getting out of this unless you run!” he yelled back, his voice harsh but layered with something I couldn’t name. Desperation, maybe. Or fear. Fear for me.I shook my head, crawling toward him despite his protests. “I’m not leaving you!”“You don’t get it!” he snarled, firing another shot. “This isn’t a negotiation, Elena!”But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Something about the wa
Angelo’s POV Five years ago. Damn, it felt like a lifetime. Back then, Dante and I weren’t enemies. Not yet. We were brothers…friends, at least. Partners in this bloody world we were born into. The kind of bond forged in fire and violence. We had each other’s backs when the bullets flew and bodies hit the floor. We had no reason to hate each other. At least, I didn’t think I did. Not at first. We worked under the same boss…Don Luciano. The old man was a legend in the Mafia world, the kind of guy whose name alone made grown men piss themselves. But he was sick, weak. Cancer was eating him alive, and he knew his time was running out. He needed someone to take over, and for some reason, he had his eyes on Dante. Always Dante. The memory hit me like a punch to the gut as I sat in my chair, the cigar in my hand burning down to ash. My mind drifted back to the day it all started to crumble. --- The sun blazed down on the Sicilian estate, with shadows over the vineyard. Don Luc
Elena's POV.We moved through the narrow alleyways, the faint hum of city life around us masking our hurried footsteps. Dante kept glancing over his shoulder, his grip on my hand firm, his movements sharp and deliberate. His jacket was torn at the sleeve, blood staining the fabric. I wanted to stop and check if he was okay, but I knew better than to suggest it now.The streets had given way to quieter backroads lined with crumbling buildings and overgrown weeds. Dante slowed, his sharp gaze darting around until he stopped in front of an abandoned shop.“Here,” he said, his voice low but firm. He pushed the door open with his shoulder, the hinges creaking in protest.Inside, the place was a mess. Dust clung to the air, and broken furniture was scattered across the floor. Dante moved ahead, kicking away debris to clear a path. “We’ll stay here for now.”I leaned against a nearby counter, catching my breath. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving me acutely aware of the burning in my le
Dante's POV.The quietness of the abandoned shop settled around us like a temporary shield. I watched Elena as she rummaged through a broken cabinet, her movements quick and precise despite everything we’d been through. She had no idea how her presence had become both my greatest strength and my biggest distraction."Elena," I said, my voice low. She turned, her eyes questioning.I hesitated. The words felt foreign on my tongue, but they clawed their way out. "I’ve never done this before."Her brow furrowed, and she stepped closer, brushing dust from her hands. "Done what?""This," I gestured vaguely between us, frustration creeping into my tone. "Letting someone in, letting my guard down. It’s dangerous."Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak right away. Instead, she tilted her head, her gaze soft but piercing. "You think I don’t know that? We’re running for our lives, Dante. Nothing about this is safe."Her honesty hit harder than any bullet ever could. I let out a breath and ran a
Elena's POV.Dante’s blood was everywhere…on my hands, the top of my dress soaking through my gown I didn’t care. I wouldn’t leave him. He could yell at me, beg me to run, but I wasn’t going anywhere.“Dante, stop!” I hissed as he tried to push me away again. “You’re not dying here. Not tonight.”His face was pale, his jaw clenched, but his eyes were sharp. “Elena, go. Don’t do this. Don’t…”“Shut up!” I snapped, my hands trembling as I pressed against one of his wounds. Blood seeped between my fingers, warm and sticky. “You don’t get to tell me what to do right now. You’re not dying. Do you hear me?”He groaned, his head lolling back against the wall. “You’re stubborn as hell.”“And you’re stupid if you think I’d leave you,” I shot back. My chest felt like it was on fire, my heart racing as I scanned the alley for somewhere, anywhere, to hide.The sounds of footsteps and shouting weren’t far off. They were still looking for us. I tightened my grip on his arm and pulled him toward a s
Elena's POV.I was trembling, my heart pounding against my chest, but I forced myself to stay calm. Dante was unconscious, blood soaking through his clothes, his body limp in my arms as I helped the man drag him into the house. I couldn't breathe. The smell of blood was overwhelming, and the weight of Dante's body made everything feel even heavier. His blood was everywhere.The man who helped us with his car kicked the door in with a loud crack, and I couldn't even look at it as we brought Dante inside. The house was empty...Marcus wasn’t here, and I was alone with the man and Dante. My hands shook as I held him against my chest, trying not to break down.The man...tall, broad, probably in his thirties...was already rushing around. “We need to do something fast. Where’s your first aid kit?” he asked, his voice steady but his eyes scanning the room.“I don’t know... I...Marcus keeps stuff around the house, I just... I need...” I was stumbling over my words, trying to think clearly. My
Elena's POV.The door creaked open, and Marcus stepped in, his boots thudding against the floor. His eyes landed on me first, and then they moved to Dante lying unconscious on the couch. He froze mid-step, his jaw slack, his face a picture of disbelief.“Elena… what the…” His words trailed off as his gaze darted between Dante and me, wide-eyed and stunned.I sighed, leaning back against the couch, exhaustion weighing on every part of me. “Close your mouth, Marcus. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”He blinked, his hand gripping the edge of the doorframe like he needed support. “Is that…” He pointed a shaky finger at Dante. “Is that Dante Moretti?”“Brilliant observation,” I muttered, brushing a strand of hair out of my face.Marcus gawked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “What the hell is he doing here?” His voice was higher than usual, a mix of awe and panic.“I brought him here,” I said, my tone sharp. “Where else was I supposed to take him?”“You brought Da
Elena's POVPain. It ripped through me like a storm, raw and merciless. My body was drenched in sweat, my fingers clutching the hospital bed as another contraction tore through me. I screamed, my throat burning, my mind barely able to hold on.“Push, Elena!” the doctor urged, his voice was firm but encouraging.I gasped, my chest heaving. Dante’s hand was in mine, his grip strong but gentle, his lips pressed in a firm line as he watched me struggle. His other hand brushed damp strands of hair from my forehead, his eyes dark with worry and something deeper…something I couldn't name.“You’re doing so good, baby,” he murmured, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.I met his gaze, searching for something, anything…to hold onto. But all I found was pain, exhaustion, and a terrifying sense of being lost. I still didn’t remember. Seven months, and I still didn’t know the man beside me, the man who loved me, the man whose child I was bringing into the world.Another contraction hit, and I
Elena’s POVSeven months. Seven months had passed since I woke up in that hospital bed, broken, confused, and pregnant with a child I didn’t remember making. Seven months since I was told that Dante, an intense, dangerous man I still couldn’t recall…was the father.And now, here I was. Heavily pregnant. Nearing nine months. Carrying the child of a Mafia lord.I stood by the tall window, my hands resting on my belly, feeling the tiny kicks beneath my skin. My body had healed, no more wheelchairs, no more braces, no more bandages. Just me, standing on my own two feet again. But my mind? That was another story.I still didn’t remember anything. Not Dante. Not Marcus. Not the accident. Nothing.Dante had tried everything. He showed me pictures, told me stories, brought me to places we had been together. But no matter how hard he tried, my mind remained a blank slate. It frustrated him…I could see it in his eyes. But he never forced me. Never pressured me. He just… stayed. Protecting me.A
Dante's POV.The hospital room was quiet, but my mind was chaos. The steady beeping of the machines monitoring Elena’s vitals was the only sound. It was maddening. I sat by her bed, staring at her pale face, waiting for her to wake up. I didn’t know how long I’d been there, but it felt like an eternity. My chest ached with every breath I took, each second dragging me deeper into my own torment.She stirred, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks. Relief flooded through me like a tidal wave, and I leaned closer, gripping her hand.“Elena?” I said softly, my voice raw. “It’s me, Dante. You’re safe now.”Her eyes opened slowly, hazy and unfocused at first. Then they locked onto mine, and for a moment, I thought everything would be okay. But her brows furrowed, confusion clouding her expression.“Who... who are you?” she whispered, her voice weak but sharp enough to cut through me like a knife.My heart stopped.“Elena, it’s me,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Dante. Don’t you
Elena's POV.Pain. That’s the first thing I noticed. A dull, throbbing ache that stretched across my entire body. My head pounded like a drum, every beat sharp and non-stop. My elbow felt like it had been smashed with a hammer, and my knee…God, my knee, burned as if someone had ripped it apart and stitched it back together with fire.I blinked, my eyelids heavy as though they were made of lead. The light above me was too bright, piercing my vision and making my head hurt worse. I wanted to scream, but my throat was dry, raw. I groaned instead, barely able to move.Where was I?I glanced around, squinting through the brightness. The room was white…clinical. Machines beeped softly beside me, wires snaking from them to my body. Bandages wrapped around my arms, my chest, even my leg, which was propped up on some kind of support.A hospital. I was in a hospital. But why?I tried to move, but pain shot through my body like lightning. I gasped, gripping the sides of the bed with weak hands.
Dante's POV.The room was cold, damp, and reeked of fear. It was exactly how I wanted it. I stood just inside the doorway, staring at the woman tied to the chair in the center of the room. Carina. Isabella’s little sister.She had the same dark hair, the same sharp features, but there was none of the kindness Isabella had once carried in her eyes. Carina’s gaze was filled with nothing but venom, even as her lips curled into a defiant smirk.“Well,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “If it isn’t the grieving lover. Come to avenge your little damsel in distress?”I didn’t answer. My silence made her smirk falter, just for a second.Enzo stood by the wall, his arms crossed, watching silently. He knew better than to interfere. This was personal.I stepped forward slowly, each step deliberate. My boots sounded against the concrete floor. Carina’s smirk returned, but there was unease behind it now.“You think you’re untouchable because of who you are,” I said, my voice low and stea
Dante's POV.The hours felt endless, a slow, agonizing stretch of time where every second clawed at my sanity. I paced the hospital hallway, my fists clenched so tight my nails bit into my palms. My men stood at a distance, quiet, not daring to say a word. Marcus was slumped on the floor against the wall, his face buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.Every once in a while, his muffled cries broke through the sterile silence. It was unbearable.“Why hasn’t anyone come out yet?” I growled, slamming my fist into the wall. The thud echoed down the corridor, but it didn’t ease the rage boiling inside me. “They’ve been in there for hours!”Enzo placed a hand on my shoulder, his voice steady but cautious. “Boss, they’ll come. She’s strong. You know that.”I turned on him, my eyes blazing. “Strong? You think strength matters right now? A damn car hit her, Enzo. She’s pregnant, and I…” My voice cracked, and I had to look away.I couldn’t break, not here. Not now. But th
Dante's POV.The scene felt like a nightmare that had come to life, a cruelty of the past I thought I’d buried deep.From the moment Enzo’s phone call came through, my blood ran cold. “Boss, we’ve got her location. Carina’s behind this. She tricked Elena with that lottery scam,” he said. His voice was steady, but I could hear the edge of urgency underneath.I clenched the wheel so tight my knuckles turned white, trying to stay focused as we sped toward the address Enzo had sent. The thought of Elena being in Carina’s grasp churned my stomach. I’d underestimated Carina’s hatred…her obsession. And now, I was the one who had failed to protect the woman I loved.As we approached the building, I saw her. Elena stood outside, her hoodie pulled up as if it could shield her from the world. For a second, relief washed over me. She was free. Carina had released her. But something didn’t sit right. My gut told me this wasn’t over.Then I saw it. The headlights. A car barreling down the road stra
Elena's POV.My head pounded as I came to. My arms felt like they were being yanked out of their sockets, tied tightly behind me. My legs were bound to the chair, and the air smelled of something metallic and sharp. I blinked, trying to clear the fog in my head.The room was cold, empty except for me and the chair I was tied to. The walls were a dull gray, and the only light came from a single bulb hanging overhead.Then I saw her.Carina.The same girl who had tried to kill me in Dante’s apartment. Her face was just as I remembered it, sharp, angry, filled with hate. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was dressed in black leather, like she was ready for war."Finally awake," she sneered, crossing her arms. "I thought they’d given you too much."I clenched my jaw, refusing to show any fear. "Carina. Back to finish what you started?"Her lips curled into a smirk, but her eyes were full of anger. "You have no idea how much I hate you," she hissed, stepping closer.
Elena's POVI hated sneaking out of the house. It felt childish, but what else could I do? Dante’s men followed me everywhere, acting like I couldn’t breathe without his approval. The constant presence of those suited-up bodyguards was suffocating. At first, I told myself it was because he cared, but now? It felt like a leash I couldn’t shake off.I glanced over my shoulder as I slipped through the side gate. No one had seen me, not yet. I had timed everything perfectly. Enzo was too busy barking orders to notice, and the guards stationed near the front were far enough away. I let out a breath of relief, pulling my hoodie tighter over my head.The message about the lottery win had been sitting in my inbox for days, and though I didn’t remember entering, curiosity got the better of me. The prizes were too good to ignore: a luxury vacation, shopping vouchers, and a brand-new car. It all sounded like a dream. Too good to be true, maybe, but after the past few weeks, I needed something to