"What's happening here?"
Dante's voice could have frozen hell itself. He filled the doorway like an avenging demon, darkness radiating from every line of his massive frame.
"Caught this bitch going through your files, boss." The guard's chest swelled with pride. "Teaching her about respect."
Dante's eyes swept over the scene – me trembling on the floor, blood on my face and his carpet, barely holding my tears in, the guard's smug satisfaction.
Something lethal flickered in his gaze at that moment.
"And how exactly," he asked softly, dangerously, "did you teach her?"
The guard grinned. "Gave her a little motivation to talk." He gestured at my bloodied face. "Just getting started–"
Two gunshots shattered the night.
The guard's scream pierced my ears as he collapsed, blood spurting from his shattered knee. The second bullet found his right shoulder before he hit the ground.
He slapped me with that hand.
Guard’s howl of agony brought another guard running. Dante didn't even look away from the bleeding man as he ordered, "Take this worthless sack of shit outside."
His tone hadn't changed – like ordering coffee, not shooting a man.
Then we were alone. He crouched beside me, close enough I could smell his cologne mixing with gunpowder.
"What were you doing in my office?"
The tears I'd been holding back all this time finally broke free near him.
"I… I was… I just… wanted… and then he… he hit so hard… I didn’t…” Words failed as shock and fear overwhelmed me.
Giving up on forming coherent sentences, I buried my face in my hands, trying desperately to calm down.
Dante waited silently at first, but his patience was thinner than usual. He gently removed my hands from face, holding my wrists into his grip and forcing me to look him in the eyes.
"Look at me." His tone was firm but not unkind. “If you can’t talk, just nod or shake your head to answer me. Understood?”
I nodded weakly, fixing my watery gaze on his.
“Were you snooping through the gang’s past dealings?” A hesitant nod.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” A shake of the head.
“Did you do this for someone else?” A frantic shake of the head.
“Were looking for yourself?” A reluctant nod.
“Something important to you personally?” Another nod.
“Is that the only reason you agreed to work for me?” A shake of the head.
“Were scared a lot?” A nod with another streak of tears.
Dante exhaled deeply, his penetrating gaze scanning my face as though trying to decipher any of my thoughts.
After a pause, "Incredibly stupid of you to think you could do something like this without getting caught. I thought you were a smart babygirl. You should have been aware by now that nothing happens in my territory without my knowledge.”
Dante’s grip on my wrists tightened slightly as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. “Looking for answers? Look somewhere else. Stay out of gang business." His grip tightened once more. "Stay out of mine."
I nodded uncertainly, shoulders trembling.
When he leaned even closer, his voice turned into husky purr. "Try to do this again, and I'll fuck every ounce of stupidity right out of you. Got it?"
Heat flooded my face as I nodded, eyes wide.
"Unless, of course," his smirk turned predatory, "that's exactly what you're waiting for, kitten. In that case, I’ll have to come up with a different punishment."
I only glared at him, my brows knitting together in defiance as I didn’t nod or respond.
His smile softened fractionally as he left my wrist and pulled out a silk handkerchief.
“Wipe your muzzle, kitten. Then get out of here. That’s enough for you today—the old man’s already back.”
I pressed the soft fabric to my bleeding nose, his scent making my head spin. But his voice stopped me at the door.
"One last thing – for better motivation." Steel crept back into his tone. “If anyone would ever help you with your snooping or catch you doing it again – and even more so if they harm you again – I will kill them,” he said, his tone razor–sharp. “Right in front of you.”
I could just freeze at this statement, my brain refusing to accept the information and the sudden change in Dante's behavior.
A moment ago, he had treated me with almost uncharacteristic tenderness, and now he was threatening me with the death of another for my misdeeds.
“It seems like you care about other people’s lives more than your own. Keep that in mind for the future then. Today was just a warning. You’re dismissed now.”
That night, sleep refused to come.
I tossed and turned, my mind spinning with Dante’s words and the way his piercing gaze had held me captive. There was something unnerving about the way he balanced cruelty and control with a fleeting softness that I couldn’t quite place. It left a mark, one that lingered long after I had walked out of his office.
And the ones he left on my neck in Dr. Simon’s office. On his desk. Over – and under – my skin. Even a week later they served as a reminder of how different he can be with me.
The varieties of his touches.
It was the uncertainty that irritated me to no end. Drive me crazy.
I replayed the scene endlessly, dissecting every second. His calm, the weight of his voice, the way he’d touched my wrist—firm but not harsh. Anger surged, burning through my veins as I remembered his threats. Fear followed, coiling tight in my chest when I recalled his unpredictability. And then, beneath it all, a flicker of something I didn’t want to name yet.
Fascination, maybe. But something darker. And hotter.
By the time dawn broke, I gave up on sleep entirely. The restless energy buzzing under my skin demanded an outlet, and lying in bed wasn’t helping. I grabbed my coat and headed to the park, hoping the fresh morning air would clear my head. The cool breeze carried a sense of calm, but it wasn’t enough to push away the memories or the questions.
I needed a distraction—something tangible, simple. Shopping, I promised myself last day off, felt oddly appealing, a small way to regain control of my scattered thoughts.
I wandered aimlessly through the aisles, picking up essentials I’d neglected and allowing myself a few indulgent luxuries.
New shoes. A scented candle. A soft sweater. For a while, it felt normal, almost peaceful.
But no matter how much I tried to push it aside, Dante was there, etched into the corners of my mind.
The day passed pleasantly enough as I flitted between stores, picking up everything from household essentials to small luxuries.
By the time I headed home this evening, I was physically drained but content, almost daring to believe my life was starting to find a strange rhythm.
But that illusion shattered as I approached my apartment.
Two men crept up behind me, their movements too smooth, too calculated. Before I could scream, a hand clamped over my mouth, and strong arms dragged me into a black van parked nearby. I thrashed and kicked, but their grip was unrelenting.
Inside the van, one of the men pulled out a syringe, smirking down at me.
“Kaiden’s been waiting for you, doll,” he sneered.
The needle pierced my skin, and a cold wave of dread swept over me as darkness closed in.