Chapter 12
Chapter 12
Eliot Club
“Tell me again why we’re here,” Dante muttered, taking a slow sip of his drink.
“Because, unlike you, we actually enjoy life,” Luca smirked, tipping his glass toward him.
Before Dante could respond, a woman sauntered toward them, her heels clicking against the floor. She wore a dress so tight it barely passed for clothing, red fabric clinging to her curves, dangerously low–cut, leaving little to the imagination. Her eyes were locked on him like a predator.
She stopped in front of him, a slow, sultry smile curving her lips. “Dante,” she purred, dragging out his name like a whispered sin. Without waiting for an invitation, she straddled his lap, her perfume cloyingly sweet as she leaned in close, her fingers ghosting over the sharp lines of his jaw. “You haven’t been here all week. I was starting to think you found someone else to warm your bed.”
Dante didn’t react, simply lifted his glass and took another sip.
Undeterred, she ran her fingers through his dark hair, nails lightly scraping his scalp. “Miss me?”
His grip on the glass tightened. “No.”
She let out a low, throaty laugh, pressing her body closer. “Liar,” she teased, tilting her head to whisper against his ear. “I can make you remember why you keep coming back.”
Then she moved in, brushing her lips against his, but before she could deepen the kiss, Dante’s hand shot up, gripping her jaw with just enough force to make her still. His voice was low, edged with warning. “Get. Off.”
Her smile faltered. “Dante-”
“I won’t say it again.” His fingers tightened slightly before he shoved her off him, sending her stumbling to the side.
Luca and Nero burst into laughter.
“Cold as ice,” Nero chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s gotta hurt.”
“Damn, man.” Luca whistled, smirking
The woman huffed in frustration, glaring at him before stomping away.
Luca nudge Dante’s arm. “Or maybe…” His grin widened. “You’ve finally become a one–woman man.”
Dante scoffed, taking another slow sip of his drink. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
But his friends weren’t convinced. They shared knowing looks. Nero leaning back in his seat. “After what you did in Russia…”
Dante’s grip on his glass tightened.
Elara.
That damn woman had completely wrecked his mind. He could still taste her on his tongue, feel the heat of her body against his. No matter how much he drank, no matter how many distractions he entertained, she was still there. Haunting him. Consuming him.
And worst of all?
He couldn’t shake the image of her scared, broken expression when he left her on that private jet. Alone.
Her wide, terrified eyes. The blood dripping from her lips. The faint tremble in her fingers.
He saw it, the fear in her eyes.
It had cut through him like a blade, deeper than he wanted to admit.
He shouldn’t care.
But damn it, he did.
His jaw clenched, and he downed the rest of his drink, the burn doing nothing to erase her from his mind.
He exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Nero chuckled. “Oh, come on brother. You think we didn’t hear what happened?” He smirked. “The great Marco Drago, humiliated in his own city. His men slaughtered like fucking rookies. And you walking away with his most prized possession.”
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Chapter 12
Dante’s jaw ficked, “prized possession: bullshit he thought
Luca leaned forward, his grin widening “So tell me, how does it feet?
How does what feel? Dante muntered
“Being completely whipped”
Dante turned his head slowly, fong Laya with a glare that could freeze hell over “Fuck off Luca”
The fact that a woman actually got under your skin and you become loyalt He shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Man, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you care
Dante ran a hand down his face, exhaling sharply He wasn’t in the mood for their bullshir
But it was true he hadn’t touched another woman in weeks. Not because he couldn’t But because none of them compared to her.
And that was a problem
A very dangerous problem.
Well why not? That russian women is hot as fuck she could turn any man loyal just by her sexy walk Luca smirk winking at Nero.
Nero raised a brow, watching Dante carefully
“Elara Drago is none of your concern.”
Silence stretched between them for a moment.
Then Nero let out a low whistle, Holy shit” He looked at Luca, but next second he got a smack on his head from his brother. “Ah! that fucking hurt bro Nero shouted
Luca grinned like the devil himself. “Oh, we are so fucked, aren’t wer
Dante stood up, in his little drunk state, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored suit
“I’m done here. I’m going home.”
Luca and Nero exchanged glances, their smirks lingering, but they didn’t push further. They knew that look the one that meant Dante Romano was on edge.
Luca leaned back, swirling the last of his whiskey. “Yeah, sure, home. Because that’s exactly where your mind is right now.”
Dante ignored Luca’s taunts, grabbing his coat and heading toward the exit.
The cool night air hit him as he stepped outside. Mark was already waiting for him by the sleek black Rolls–Royce.
“Boss,” Mark greeted with a slight nod before opening the door for him.
Dante slid into the back seat, exhaling sharply as the door closed. He leaned back, closing his eyes, willing himself to shut everything out.
But peace never lasted long in his world.
The car jerked to an abrupt stop, snapping him out of his thoughts. His eyes shot open.
“What the fuck?” Dante growled, his body already tensing.
“Boss,” Mark said, voice grim as his hand hovered over his gun. “Two black cars just blocked our way.”
Dante’s gaze snapped to the front windshield. The dark–tinted window of the lead car slid down, revealing a machine gun.
Shic
“Get down!” Dante barked.
Before they could react, gunfire crupted.
The rapid rattle of bullets tore through the air, hammering against the car in a relentless assault. Mark and Dante ducked low as glass shattered around them, shards flying in all directions.
The car was bulletproof, but under this level of fire, it wasn’t going to hold much longer. Cracks splintered across the windows, and Dante clenched his jaw as the deafening storm of bullets continued.
For a moment, everything was pure chaos, gunfire roaring, the acrid scent of burning rubber.
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Then, silence.
The gunfire stopped,
Through the broken windshield, Dante could see the group of men creeping closer, their guns drawn, waiting for any sign of movement from inside the car.
Dante exchanged a glance with Mark.
A single nod.
Then, they moved, kicking the door open they flew out.
Caught off guard, the men hesitated, which was biggest mistake of their life. Dante’s first shot landed between a man’s eyes. Mark took down two more in quick move.
One by one, their attackers dropped, collapsing onto the wide road.
In less than thirty seconds, it was over.
Dante straightened, breathing hard, the barrel of his gun still warm. He stepped over the bodies, scanning the scene, his jaw tightening.
A hit. Someone had put a hit on him.
And only one name came to mind.
Drago.
Dante exhaled sharply and turned to Mark, who was breathing heavily, blood seeping from a wound on his hand.
His eyes narrowed. “Are you okay?”
Mark wiped the blood off his cheek with his uninjured hand before pressing hard against his wound to stop the bleeding. His face was pale.
“Yes, boss.”
Dante studied him for a second. Mark was tough, one of the best.
Dante leaned his back against the wrecked car hissing a little, his fingers curling around his phone. Without hesitation, he dialed a number,
The line rang once. Twice.
Then a voice answered. ” Fuck Romano, You are such a cockblocker.”
Dante’s jaw clenched. “I need a cleanup. Now.”
A low chuckle. “How bad?”
Dante glanced around at the bullet–ridden car, the bodies littering the pavement, Mark pressing down on his bleeding hand.
“Bad.”
A pause. Then, the voice on the other end spoke again. “Give me ten minutes.”
The call ended.
The sky had shifted from the dark hues of night to the soft golden glow of morning by the time Dante stepped into his mansion. His body ached, exhaustion pressing down on him like a weight, but his mind was still racing with too many thoughts that refused to let him rest.
He shrugged off his coat and tossed it onto the couch, barely noticing where it landed. His legs moved on their own, leading him toward one specific room.
Hers.
He pushed open the door, and the sight in front of him nearly knocked the breath from his lungs.
Elara.
She had just stepped out of the bathroom, her silky, wet hair falling down her back, droplets of water sliding over her bare shoulders. A single towel was wrapped tightly around her, clinging to her damp skin, teasing him with every inch of exposed flesh.
Dante felt his pulse, his exhaustion long forgotten.
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She froze when she saw him, her wide blue eyes locking onto his.
“Dante,” she whispered, her voice laced with uncertainty and fear.
He didn’t speak. He couldn’t.
His mind was already dizzy from the long night, but now–now, it was something else entirely..
dangere
Something dangerous.
Before he could stop himself, he moved.
Crossing the space between them in two quick strides, he reached for her, pulling her into his arms.
Elara let out a soft gasp, her body tensing against his, but he didn’t let go.
Her lavender scent uniquely wrapped around him, and for the first time, he felt peace, comfort, home.
His fingers curled into the damp fabric of the towel, his forehead dropping against her shoulder.
Everything blurred.
And then blackness.
His body gave out.
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