He was quiet for a long moment, his hand absently tracing patterns on my back. "After Sofia died, I became obsessed with revenge.
Spent three years hunting down everyone responsible. It consumed me. Made me more monster than man. My family my mother, my remaining relatives they wanted me to stop. To move on. To be the respectable businessman my father had pretended to be."
"But you couldn't."
"I wouldn't. Because moving on meant letting them win. Meant Sofia's death didn't matter." His voice hardened. "So I cut ties.
Told them I was done with the Moretti name. Built my own empire on my own terms. And I made sure the Volkovs knew I was never going to stop. Never going to forgive. Never going to be anything other than their worst nightmare."
"And now they're coming for me to hurt you."
"Yes. Because I made the mistake of showing interest in you." He met my eyes. "The moment I bid on you at that auction, I painted a target on your back. Every enemy I have now sees you as my weakness."
"Are they right? Am I your weakness?"
"Yes." No hesitation. No denial. "Which is why I'll kill anyone who tries to touch you."
The possessiveness in his voice should have scared me. Instead, it sent heat through my body.
"Dante"
"I know. This is complicated. Impossible. You should run from me." His hand slid to the back of my neck, holding me in place. "But you're not running. Why?"
"Because despite everything the violence, the danger, the insanity of this situation I feel more alive with you than I ever did in my normal life." The admission felt like jumping off a cliff. "You scare me and make me feel safe at the same time. You're a monster who tells me the truth. You're dangerous but honorable in your own twisted way. And God help me, I'm starting to…" I couldn't say it.
"Starting to what?"
"Care about you." The words came out barely above a whisper. "I'm starting to care about the devil who bought me."
Something fierce and possessive flashed in his eyes. "Say it again."
"I care about you."
This kiss was different. Demanding.
Consuming. His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, and I melted against him, giving in to the insane attraction that had been building since the moment our eyes met at that auction.
We kissed until we couldn't breathe. Until the line between captor and captive dissolved completely. Until there was only Dante and Isabella, two broken people finding something unexpected in each other's arms.
When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathing hard, and Dante looked as shaken as I felt.
"Stay with me tonight," he said. "Not for anything else. Just… stay. Let me hold you. Let me keep the nightmares away."
"Okay."
We lay down together, his arms wrapped around me from behind, his body warm and solid against my back. I should have felt trapped. Instead, I felt protected.
"Isabella?" His voice was soft in the darkness.
"Yeah?"
"You're not property anymore. Not to me."
"What am I then?"
"I don't know yet. But I'm going to find out."
I drifted off to sleep wrapped in the arms of a killer, and for the first time since my father had sold me, I felt something other than fear.
I felt hope.
I woke to chaos.
Alarms blaring. Dante's body no longer beside me. Gunshots echoing through the house.
The attack had come.
I scrambled out of bed, my heart pounding, remembering Dante's training. Be aware. Look for exits. Don't panic.
The bedroom door burst open and I nearly screamed but it was Rosa, her face pale.
"Quick, child! To the panic room! They've breached the south gate!"
"Where's Dante?"
"Fighting them off! Move!"
But before we could reach the panic room door, it opened from the inside. And standing there was a man I'd never seen before tall, blond, with cold blue eyes and a gun pointed directly at me.
"Isabella Martinez," he said with a thick Russian accent. "How nice to finally meet you. Dante's new pet."
"Run, child!" Rosa screamed, but the man moved faster, grabbing me by the hair and yanking me back.
"Not so fast." His gun pressed against my temple. "We're going for a little walk. You're going to be our message to Dante Moretti."
Fear paralyzed me for one second. Two.
Then Dante's voice echoed in my head: You fight dirty and you don't stop until they're down or you can run.
I stopped thinking and acted on pure instinct.
My elbow shot back into his ribs. Hard. When he grunted and his grip loosened, I spun and went for his eyes, just like Dante taught me. My fingers made contact, and the Russian screamed, dropping his gun.
I didn't wait. I ran.
Rosa was already on the security button, alarms changing tone to alert Dante's specific location. I heard footsteps behind me the Russian recovering, chasing and I grabbed the first weapon I could find. A heavy bookend from the shelf.
When he rounded the corner, I swung with everything I had.
The bookend connected with his skull with a sickening crack. He went down hard, blood pooling beneath him.
I stood there, shaking, the makeshift weapon still in my hands, staring at the man I'd just knocked unconscious. Maybe killed.
That's when Dante appeared, flanked by his guards, his gun raised. He took in the scene in one glance me standing over the Russian, blood on my hands, the panic room breached.
"Isabella." He was beside me in two strides, pulling me against his chest. "Are you hurt?"
"I no. He tried to take me. I remembered the training. I fought back."
"You did perfectly." He kissed my forehead, hard and quick, then turned to his guards. "Take this piece of shit to the basement. If he's still alive, I want him awake for questioning. And find out how they got into my panic room."
"Yes, sir."
Dante pulled me away from the blood, from the chaos, back into his bedroom. His hands ran over me, checking for injuries with a gentleness that contradicted the violence still echoing through the house.
"You saved yourself," he said, wonder in his voice. "You fought back and won."
"I was so scared."
"Fear is good. It kept you sharp." He cupped my face, forcing me to meet his eyes. "But you didn't freeze. You didn't break. You fought. Do you understand what that means?"
"That your training worked?"
"That you're stronger than either of us knew. That you're not a victim anymore." His smile was fierce and proud. "You're a survivor. A fighter. A woman who can stand in my world and not just endure it, but conquer it."
"Dante"
"I love you." The words tumbled out like he couldn't hold them back. "I know it's insane. I know it's too soon. I know I have no right to feel this after what I've done, how I brought you here. But I love you, Isabella Martinez. And I'm never letting you go."
I should have been terrified. Should have told him he was crazy. That Stockholm syndrome was real and this wasn't love, just trauma bonding.
But standing there covered in another man's blood, my hands shaking with adrenaline, Dante's arms the only thing keeping me steady, I realized something.
Maybe it was Stockholm syndrome. Maybe it was trauma bonding. Maybe it was a thousand kinds of unhealthy.
But it was also real.
"I love you too," I whispered. "God help me, I love you too."
He kissed me then, hard and desperate and claiming, and I kissed him back with everything I had.
Because Dante Moretti was a monster. A killer. A man who'd bought me at an auction and dragged me into his violent world.
But he was also my monster. My killer. My protector.
And maybe just maybe I was exactly what he needed too.
Beauty and the beast.
Captive and captor.
Love and violence intertwined until you couldn't separate one from the other.
Welcome to the mafia.
Welcome to love in a world where the only rule is survival.
Welcome home.