Even though the storm had passed by morning, there was still a heavy, unacknowledged substance in the air.We had not left the cabin. We are still trapped in this perilous area between our reality and our pretense.I told myself it was just in my head.When Dante thought I was not paying attention, he continued to stare at me.The way that whenever he approached too closely, the heat from his body persisted.The way he called my name made my stomach knot.It did not matter.It must have been nothing.For what other reason? I could not afford to make that error.A peaceful evening. We do not intend to cross this line.That day, Dante did not return to the city.I did not either.By the time either of us spoke again, the sun had already set.My knife caught the faint light from the fireplace as I sat on the couch and flipped it between my fingers. On the table next to him, Dante sat opposite me, his whiskey unopened.It ought to have been just another evening.It wasn't.There was a thi
I knew the instant we withdrew.Nothing remained the same.His hands had clung to me as if he was not ready to let go, and I could still feel the pressure of his body and the heat of his mouth against mine.As if he had no intention of doing so.I ought to have taken a step back. I ought to have spoken—anything.I just stood there instead. Out of breath. blazing.And Dante—He merely observed me.The firelight flickered against the sharp angles of his face, and his eyes were dark and unreadable. He breathed steadily, slowly, and under control.As if he was in anticipation.As if he were offering me an option.And that? There was nothing more dangerous than that.Because it was not a question of whether I wanted him.Can I afford to want him? was the question.And the response?No.I looked away. Quick.I whispered, "That should not have happened."Dante let out a soft, almost amused, exhale. "However, it did."I tightened my jaw. "And it will never occur again."Dante remained motionl
A sea of lights flickered against the dark skyline as the city stretched below. I could see everything from Dante's penthouse's floor-to-ceiling windows, including the streets, skyscrapers, and the world that would be mine again after this mission was over.after he left.However, I was aware that I was deceiving myself as I stood there, holding onto the windowsill's edge.Since that night, everything had changed.ever since the kiss.I allowed myself to touch him back the moment I allowed him to touch me.Three days. It had lasted that long.Three days of keeping quiet and acting as if nothing had occurred.Dante had left me alone. He had not mentioned it at all. However, that was worse than if he had cornered me or pushed.due to Dante's lack of pursuit.He waited.And I was aware that I would eventually be the one to approach him.The Unavoidable ConversationI had just taken two steps in the direction of the kitchen when I heard a glass filling with liquid.Dante.As I entered the
The Bar: A Control GameThe amber glow of flickering candlelight and neon reflections on polished glass filled the dimly lit bar. The actual tension between us began to settle as the low conversations faded into the background and the hum of gentle jazz curled through the air.Dante was seated across from me, slowly and methodically rolling the dark bourbon in his glass. Every movement he made was a silent command, and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing the ink on his forearms.He had hardly said anything.He did not have to, though.Because he looked at me all the time.I could tell he was waiting by that knowing, dark look.Holding out for me to snap.I forced myself to ignore the way my pulse jumped when his eyes flickered down to my mouth as I slowly exhaled and tipped my own drink to my lips.I whispered, "You have been staring for five minutes." "What? Have nothing better to do?Dante grinned. "You tell me."His tone was low and playful, like a silk-wrapped challenge.With a
The Next Morning: No Way OutIt was warm when I woke up.The kind that came from something more hazardous than sunlight or blankets.Someone.Dante.I opened my eyes, gasping for air. He remained there.He was lying beside me, his arm still slung over my waist as if he would never let go, his bare chest rising and falling in the gloomy morning light.What is the worst?I wished he wouldn't.With the pain still pulsing through my body, I forced myself to swallow while attempting to ignore the heat that still existed between us.It happened last night.I allowed it to occur.And now?I was fucked now.since it involved more than just sex.It wasn't.Dante shifted next to me, his fingers grazing my hip absently as he exhaled slowly.I stiffened.His eyes remained closed as his lips formed a smirk. "You are conscious."I did not respond.because I did not believe in myself.Dante hummed in a deep, contented voice. "Are you planning to go for a run, or are you always this quiet in the morn
Luca's Flight: The Deception of DistanceI promised myself that I would never return.Last night did not mean anything, I told myself.that I would not make the same mistake twice with Dante.But my mind would not fucking stop talking as I sat by myself in my apartment, still holding the glass of whiskey.I was still sensing him.I felt his body's warmth against mine. He seemed to be memorizing me based on the slow, knowing way his hands had mapped me out.As if he anticipated my return.Fuck.I had to get my thoughts straight.I told myself that I was only going for a drive as I picked up my jacket and left.However, I was parked outside Dante's penthouse half an hour later.I also detested how simple it was.I detested the fact that he had me tethered to his finger.I gripped the steering wheel and inhaled deeply.I could go back.I should go back.Then—My phone lit up with a text.Dante: You took too long.My stomach grew constricted.I did not respond.I just stepped out of the v
The Following Morning: A Perilous DiscoveryI ought to have gone.I should have moved away from him, changed into my clothes, and walked the fuck out as soon as my eyes opened.However, I didn't.since Dante was still present.still at my side.still clinging to me as though I were his property.What is the worst?I gave him permission.His body was warm against mine, his breathing even and slow, his arm resting languidly over my waist.My mind was yelling at me to get up, so I swallowed hard and stared at the ceiling.to rise. to act as though nothing had changed since last night.However, it had.And I had no idea how to handle that.I took a deep breath, moving a little—Dante's hold became more firm.Even though his voice was rough from sleep, he was still very arrogant."You remain here."I tensed up. "Stop talking."Dante's lips touched my shoulder as he laughed.Fuck."I am not disputing it," he whispered.I tightened my jaw. "Do not begin."His fingers moved slowly, deliberate
The Club: An Open ProclamationThe club was full.Bass is loud. dim illumination. The air curled with the smell of cigarette smoke and pricey liquor.This club was not your typical one. Dante owned this.And this evening? Something was different.Because Dante was not going to hide it tonight.He walked next to me, his firm but gentle hand hovering at the small of my back as he led me through the crowd. possessive.His men noticed.Matteo smirked, as if he had been waiting for this, but he raised an eyebrow.None of the other guys questioned it.Dante Valenci went unquestioned.And what was his, no one would dare touch.Fuck.I let out a sharp breath, sensing the weight of their gazes and the unsaid information weighing down on me.They were aware.They were all fucking aware.Dante also desired that they do so.An Opponent's Error: Assessing Dante's PossessivenessDante took me to the VIP lounge, where the most dangerous men in the city congregated around crystal glasses and leather
Luca’s POVThe city pulsed with unease. After our confrontation with Enzo, a name lingered in the air like a specter: the Sovereign. Whispers of a new power rising in the underworld had reached us, but details were scarce.I sat in Dante’s study, sifting through intelligence reports. Patterns emerged—territories changing hands without bloodshed, alliances shifting silently. It was as if an invisible hand orchestrated the chaos, guiding events from the shadows.DanteLuca’s observations mirrored my own. The Sovereign was not just a myth; they were real and methodical. Their influence seeped into every corner of our world, challenging the very foundation of our power.I summoned our most trusted informants, demanding answers. One name surfaced repeatedly: Umbraion. A figure cloaked in mystery, known for manipulating events without ever stepping into the light.LucaThe name Umbraion sent chills down my spine. Legends spoke of a man who could bend wills and reshape empires with a whisper
Luca’s POVThe morning sun cast long shadows across the marble floors of Dante’s penthouse. I stood by the window, watching the city awaken, yet my mind was elsewhere. Matteo’s betrayal had left a scar, not just on our operations, but on our trust.Dante entered the room, his presence commanding as always. He handed me a cup of espresso, his eyes searching mine.“We need to confront Enzo,” he said, breaking the silence.I nodded, the weight of the decision settling in. Enzo had been an ally, a mentor even. But recent events cast doubt on his intentions.DanteEnzo’s estate was a fortress, both in structure and secrecy. As we approached, the guards recognized us, granting entry without question. Inside, the atmosphere was tense, the usual warmth replaced by a palpable unease.Enzo greeted us in his study, a room adorned with relics of his past victories. He offered a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.“Dante, Luca. To what do I owe this visit?”I got straight to the point. “Matteo be
Luca’s POVI wasn’t sure when I stopped sleeping with both eyes closed.Maybe it was the night I slit Salvatore’s throat, or maybe it was when Dante called me his empire. But I knew what that really meant.Empires burn.I woke to silence.Not peaceful.Tense.Even before I sat up, I knew something was wrong. I could feel it—like pressure in the air before a storm. I grabbed my gun from the nightstand, not because I thought someone had breached the penthouse, but because paranoia is survival in this world.When I stepped into the living room, Matteo was there.Alone.Too quiet.I didn’t speak. Neither did he.He stood, staring out at the city skyline, one hand holding a lit cigarette, the other tucked into his jacket like he was hiding something.Maybe regret.Or maybe a weapon.I waited.He finally said, “You think you understand this world now.”My jaw tightened.“I understand it better than you think.”He exhaled smoke, still not looking at me. “Then you know not everyone is happy w
The MessageThe body arrived at sunrise.Luca was still asleep when Matteo called.Dante answered on the first ring.“You need to see this.”The weight in Matteo’s voice sent ice through Dante’s veins.Thirty minutes later, they were at the docks.A shipping container had been left open, the salty morning air carrying the scent of blood.Inside, a single chair sat in the middle of the steel room.And tied to it—The man who had tried to kill Luca.Except now, he was dead.His throat had been slit, his hands nailed to the armrests.Blood soaked the floor beneath him, dark and glistening in the dim light.Matteo handed Dante a note.No signature. No insignia. Just a single sentence.“You’re not untouchable, Romano.”Dante clenched his jaw, fingers tightening around the paper.Whoever had sent this wasn’t just making a move.They were declaring war.Luca Wakes to ChaosLuca knew something was wrong the second he opened his eyes.Dante was standing by the window, his phone to his ear, voi
A False Sense of PeaceFor the first time in days, the tension had eased.Dante had called an emergency meeting with the capos, leaving me at the penthouse with orders to stay put.I didn’t argue.I needed space.Time to breathe.To figure out if I was really as trapped as Dante made me feel.But the thing about power?It never lets you rest.The HitThe first sign something was wrong was the silence.Dante’s penthouse was never truly quiet. His men were always around, stationed near the entrances, patrolling the halls.But tonight, there was nothing.The hair on the back of my neck stood up.I set my drink down, my mind already cataloging escape routes, weapons, weaknesses.Then—The lights went out.I moved instantly.The gun Dante had given me was in my hand before I even had time to think.A second later, the glass balcony doors shattered.I ducked behind the couch, heart hammering, gun raised.A shadow moved through the darkness. Silent. Trained.Not a random thug.A professional
The world doesn’t stop after you take a life.That’s the first thing I learned.I had expected something to shift. Something to break.But the city kept moving. The sky didn’t darken. The ground didn’t split open beneath my feet.I had walked out of that warehouse with blood on my hands, and the world had kept going.And that was the part that scared me the most.The Weight of SilenceThe penthouse was quiet.Dante had left early, something about a meeting with the capos. He hadn’t said much before he left—just a lingering touch, a look that told me he knew I wasn’t okay.But he hadn’t asked.Dante never asked.And I never told him.I sat at the bar, staring at the untouched glass of whiskey in front of me.I had killed before. But this wasn’t like before.This time, I had done it for power.For a place at Dante’s side.For us.But was there even an us anymore?Or was I just a part of his empire now—another piece on the board?A Ghost in the MirrorI got up, walking into the bathroom.
The car ride was silent.Dante sat beside me in the backseat, one hand resting against the leather seat, the other holding a cigarette between his fingers. The faint glow of the ember cast shadows across his face.Outside, the city blurred past us—neon lights, dark streets, empty sidewalks.Everything felt too quiet.Too still.The scent of blood still clung to my skin, even after I’d wiped my hands clean. My shirt had specks of it, and the memory of Salvatore’s last breath still echoed in my mind.I had killed before. But this was different.This was power.This was becoming something I couldn’t walk away from.Dante exhaled smoke, his gaze fixed out the window. He hadn’t spoken since we left the warehouse.I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to.Not yet.Not when my pulse was still pounding from the weight of everything that had just happened.The Penthouse: Only UsThe moment we stepped inside Dante’s penthouse, the world outside disappeared.The city was loud. The business was brutal. B
The Moment of DecisionSalvatore sat frozen in his chair.The weight of what was happening finally settling in.Dante stood beside me, silent. Waiting.This was my call.I could feel every set of eyes on me. Our men. His men. The people who had doubted me, underestimated me, assumed I was just Dante’s pretty little second-in-command.This was my chance to show them exactly who I was.Exactly what I was capable of.I exhaled slowly.Then, I turned to one of our men standing by the door.“Knife.”A blade was handed to me within seconds.Salvatore tensed.I turned the knife over in my palm, feeling the weight of it. Considering.Then, I looked at him.“You made a mistake,” I said calmly.He swallowed. “Luca—”I slammed the blade into his hand.The sound of metal slicing through flesh and bone filled the room.Salvatore’s scream echoed.I twisted the knife slowly.“I’m not interested in your excuses.”The WarningBlood pooled on the table.Salvatore gasped, face pale.I leaned in, my voic
The CaptiveThe man was tied to the chair.Wrists bound, head slumped forward, breathing ragged.He wasn’t dead.Not yet.But he’d wish he was before we were done.Dante stood in front of him, rolling up the sleeves of his black dress shirt.There was no rush.Pain was always more effective when it took its time.“Wake him up,” Dante said.I stepped forward.My knuckles connected with his jaw. Hard.His head snapped to the side, a groan escaping his lips.Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. Bleary. Bloodshot.And when he finally focused?He saw me.His expression flickered—surprise, then something darker.He wasn’t afraid of me.Not yet.But he would be.Who Sent the Hit?Dante crouched in front of him, elbows resting on his knees.“Let’s not waste time.”His voice was calm. Too calm.“Who ordered the hit?”The man exhaled sharply. A laugh—low, broken.“You think I’ll tell you?” His voice was hoarse.Dante smiled. Slow. Dangerous.“You will.”He stood, adjusting his cuffs, before looking