Chapter 16
Dante’s Office
As the elevator doors slid open. Elara stepped out, her eyes scamming the vast, nearly empty floor
There was nothing.no bustling staff, no unnecessary furniture just a single desk with two chairs.
A woman dressed in a navy–blue suit stood behind the desk, her poised demeanor radiating professionalism. She offered a polite smile to the man beside Elara before her gaze landed on her. The warmth faded, replaced by a barely concealed frown.
Capo gave the woman a curt nod before gesturing forward. “This way, please,” he said, leading Elara toward the office.
She followed, her pulse quickening with every step
As they reached the heavy doors, Capo hesitated. “Boss is…” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking uncomfortable “Hmm buny He’ll be here any minute. You can wait inside.”
Then, without another word, he bowed slightly and left.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Silence.
Elara exhaled slowly, glancing around the massive office. The space was as cold and commanding as the man who owned it.
A large, imposing desk sat in the center, a few documents scattered across its surface. The furniture black and grey was sleek, modern, and intimidatingly masculine.
No personal touches. No warmth.
The only hint of life in the entire room was a few potted plants, their green leaves doing little to soften the dark, monotone aesthetic.
Slowly, she turned toward the floor–to–ceiling glass windows.
Her breath hitched.
The entire city stretched beneath her, a breathtaking, glittering expanse of lights and movement. From the 52nd floor, everything seemed so small.
Lost in thought, she barely heard the sound of the door swinging open. Until it slammed against the wall with a loud bang
Elara jolted, spinning around, her breath catching in her throat.
Dante furiously stromed in his office. He hadn’t even noticed lier yet.
But what she saw made her gasp.
His white shirt was splattered with blood.
The fabric clung to his torso, half–tucked into his slacks, the top two buttons undone–offering a glimpse of golden skin beneath. His chest rose and fell steadily, but there was something brutal in the way he moved.
His dark hair was wet, droplets of water sliding down the sharp edges of his face as he dragged a hand through it. He must have poured water over himself, trying to wash off the blood. But faint streaks of red still lingered along his jaw and collarbone, stark against his skin.
When those cold eyes met her, she stopped breathing for several seconds. For a second, something flickered across his face. Surprise. Annoyance. Something darker.
Elara’s pulse hammered.
One look at his face, and she realized this was a mistake.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Dante growl, as he stormed toward her.
Elara instinctively took a step back, her body reacting before she could stop herself.
But she refused to let him see her fear. Lifting her chin, she met his furious gaze with a blank expression.
“I need to talk to you, but…” Elara hesitated, glancing at his bloodstained shirt, the rage still burning in his eyes. “It seems like this isn’t the right time. Her hesitation didn’t go unnotice by Dante.
She swallowed, forcing herself to keep her voice steady. “Miss Milly asked me to give you your medicine. Here-”
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She never got to finish.
In a flash, Dante grabbed her face, his rough hands cupping her cheeks, and crashed his lips onto hers.
A gasp caught in her throat, her body freezing as the fury in his touch consumed her.
Her hand, still clutching the bottle of medicine, trembled in the air, caught between resisting and surrendering.
Then the bottle slipped from her grasp, hitting the floor with a soft clatter.
Her eyes widened, her breath stolen as his mouth moved against hers with raw, unrelenting hunger.
There was no warning. No hesitation. Just pure, furious possession. When both of them felt breathless, Dante pulled apart a little.
A thin string of saliva still connected their lips. His dark eyes swept over her face, taking in every detail.
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Her lashes fluttered as a deep, fiery blush spread across her checks and nose. Her lips were swollen, plump from his kiss, and the sight sent a fresh wave of possessiveness surging through him.
Elara’s heart pounded so violently she thought it might shatter her ribs. The air around her felt suffocating, heavy with the scent of him mix with blood, something darkly addictive.
Why? Why did her body betray her like this? –
Her fingers curled uselessly against his chest, her pulse a frantic drumbeat beneath her skin. She should shove him away, curse him, demand distance, but instead, her breath trembled, her knees weakened, and a traitorous heat spread through her veins.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. She despised him. Feared him. And yet, when he kissed her, when his voice dipped into that dangerously low whisper, something inside her crumbled.
Was she falling for this man?
No.
She couldn’t.
Dante pressed their foreheads together, his breath warm against her lips.
“Its not my blood Darling,” he whispered, his voice like silk laced with steel, “you have no idea how many men are after you.”
Elara’s breath hitched. Her eyes flew open, meeting his in confusion and shock
His gaze was softer now, but the warning in his words was clear.
“It’s dangerous for you to come here alone.” His tone had lost its fury, replaced by something deeper, quieter.
It caught her off guard.
Just moments ago, he was a storm, furious and wild.
Now, he was something else entirely. He take her hand made her sit on the couch. “Give me a minute.” Saying so he dissappear somewhere in his office.
Elara pressed both hands to her burning cheeks, her mind still frozen, reeling from the kiss.
She fanned her face, trying to calm the storm raging inside her.
“Why the hell did I let him kiss me?” she thought, panic creeping in.
He then walked come out of somewhere. In fresh cloth, looking like a noble man. There was no expression on his face, and his eyebrows were very cold. As if he just not kissed her possissively few minutes ago. She frowned.
When those cold eyes stared at her,
“What was so urgent that you couldn’t wait for me to come back?” Dante’s voice was cold, laced with quiet authority. “That you decided to grace me with your presence in my office?”
“You’ve been avoiding me for the past few weeks, and now, you show up- bathed in your own blood, unconscious in my room, scaring the shit out of me! Then, after barely surviving that massive wound, you leave again?”
Dante’s expression flickered for a moment, amusement flashing in his eyes before he quickly masked it with his usual cold, unreadable facade.
“Are you worried about me?”
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She immeditaly shut her mouth. Was she worried about him? Definitly no.
“I need to know where my brother is.” Elara’s voice wavered, but she pushed through the uncertainty. “It’s been weeks, Dante. I don’t know anything about him. My brother is not well, he needs medical treatment. He could–he could die if-”
A tear slid down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away, her eyes still locked on him.
Dante’s hand moved instinctively toward her, as if to brush the tear away, but he stop in midair.
Her hand quickly wiping away the remaining tears as she looked him dead in the eye.
“You’ve rejected my offering once before, but I’ll do anything for my brother.” Her voice grew stronger, bolder, the desperation now masked by determination.
“I have a proposal for you,” she said, “I don’t have money or wealth to offer, but you wanted me to be your bitch, right? So you could show the world you have the Russian mafia in your pocket?”
She stood straighter, pushing her pride aside. “I can be that bitch. Willing. But in return, I want to buy a safe and secure life for my brother. His life in exchange of my dignity.”
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