C95 Threat And Promise

Dante paced the tiled floor of the underground training room.

The sharp sound of his boots echoed in the vast, dimly lit space.

The air smelled faintly of leather and metal.

The remnants of countless sparring sessions and weapons being cleaned.

This was where his men honed their skills, a stark, utilitarian arena carved into the bones of the estate.

He hadn’t planned on coming down here tonight, but after the day he’d had, he needed to be anywhere that didn’t remind him of her.

Yet, she haunted him here too.

His black shirt clung to his broad shoulders, damp from the sweat of a workout he hadn’t finished.

He ran a hand through his dark hair and pushed it back in frustration.

The ache in his chest had only worsened since the raid.

And now, her voice…sharp and cutting…rang in his ears.

Don’t call me again.

Dante stopped abruptly with his fists clenched at his sides.

“Damn her,” he muttered, the words a low growl.

He didn’t miss people.

He didn’t let them crawl under his skin and take up residence like she had.

And yet, here he was.

Always in a state of perpetual tension, all because of her.

The raid had been a success on paper.

His men had uncovered the prostitution ring operating in Acadia, but it was what they’d found that had left Dante simmering with rage.

The girls were so young.

Their hollow eyes were a testament to the horrors they’d endured.

The bastard running the operation had sneered even as Dante questioned him, spouting claims about some shadowy "real boss" who would soon dethrone him.

Before Dante could dig deeper, one of his men had snapped and shot the fuckhead.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Dante had hissed afterwards, his voice low but charged with fury.

The man had stammered, “I… I couldn’t stand what he was saying, boss. About you. About this city.”

It had been a weak excuse, and Dante knew it.

Yet, instead of tearing into him, he’d merely nodded and said, “You’re forgiven.”

But in private, he’d ordered Angelo to keep tabs on him.

Dante wasn’t stupid.

He’d learned to trust his instincts.

Something didn’t add up.

Even as the pieces of the raid unfolded, his mind had wandered to Annabelle and her sister.

He thought of Cathy and couldn’t help but imagine that she would have ended up in the hands of pigs like that if she had not been saved on time.

He could imagine how something like that would have broken Annabelle.

That thought had been the final straw.

It had pushed him to call Annabelle despite knowing she might reject him.

“And what did I get for my trouble?”

The punching bag hung in front of him, swaying slightly as if taunting him to release his frustration.

He hit it once.

Then again.

Each blow heavier than the last.

But no matter how hard he struck, the knot in his chest didn’t ease.

Her voice had been biting when she’d answered his call.

“Don’t call me again,” she’d snapped before hanging up.

Dante had stared at his phone in disbelief while his pulse pounded in his ears.

She’d dared to dismiss him?

Him?

He’d almost thrown the phone against the wall but stopped himself at the last second.

Breaking things wouldn’t fix the simmering fury or the hollow ache she’d left behind.

But then, she’d called back.

Twice.

He’d let the first call ring out, his pride demanding he ignore it.

When the second came through, he answered against his better judgment.

“What?” His tone was clipped, ice layered over the fire brewing beneath.

“Dante,” she said, her voice steady but... detached. “I’ve come to a decision.”

“Oh, have you?” His words dripped with sarcasm. “Let me guess, you’ve come to your senses and decided to apologize for being insufferable?”

“I’ll do you one better,” she replied. “I’ll be your woman.”

Dante froze, the air in the room suddenly feeling too thick.

Still, he said arrogantly, “You are already my woman.”

“Not willingly,” she answered, like a skilled negotiator discussing business.

That didn’t sit well with Dante.

Not when she added, “You have claimed that I am your woman just because I look…. Just because you think you can. It’s not the same as me willingly giving myself to you.”

He’d waited.

He had hoped to hear her say something like that, but the flat practicality of her tone left him cold.

“Why now?” he demanded, suspicion lacing his words. “What do you want, Annabelle?”

There was a pause.

Then her voice softened, almost like silk sliding over steel. “I want you, Dante. I’m done lying to myself. I dream about you. I dream about doing things I shouldn’t even say out loud.”

Heat roared through him as his grip tightened on the phone.

He could picture her in his mind’s eye.

Her lips.

Her curves.

The fire in her eyes.

And what could he do to and with her?

But then her tone changed, pulling him back like a slap.

“In return,” she continued, “I want your full protection for Cathy and me. I’ll live with you, do what you ask. But I want my sister to have a normal life…school, friends, work. And I want to finish my education and do something with it too. I won’t just sit around waiting for you.”

The fire in Dante’s chest cooled, turning into something sharp and bitter.

He felt his jaw tighten as her words sank in.

“Let me get this straight,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “You want to be my paid fuck buddy?”

She didn’t respond immediately.

Then, softly, she added, “If that’s what you want me to be.”

The room seemed to tilt for a moment, and Dante held his fist against the bag to prevent lashing. “Dio mio, Annabelle,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Do you even hear yourself?”

Her silence only infuriated him more.

“And one more thing,” she added after a moment, her tone clipped. “Don’t lie to me and say you love me again. Let me…you don’t have to respond right now if you don’t want to. Let me know your decision. But you should know that my sister’s protection comes first. If you can’t … or if you won’t keep the dangers that might want to get to her at bay, then we have no deal.”

The call disconnected before he could respond, leaving him staring at the phone in disbelief.

“Was that a threat? She dared to give me a ridiculous proposal and now a threat? What the fuck?!”

Dante slammed his fist into the punching bag and watched the chain above it rattling ominously. Fury burned through him like a wildfire.

But beneath it was a hurt he didn’t want to acknowledge.

She thought she could reduce what they had to some cold, transactional arrangement.

After everything they’d been through.

She still didn’t see it.

She wanted to use him for her protection and pay him back like a whore?!

The fury in Dante was unlike any other.

If he saw her at that moment, he wasn’t sure what exactly he was going to do.

He would either wring her damn neck or fuck her till she couldn’t use that tempting mouth of hers to say fuckshit again.

The fluorescent lights above cast a harsh, sterile glow on the room.

Shadows stretched and warped across the walls as the bag swung back and forth.

Dante’s reflection stared back at him from the mirrored wall as his dark eyes smouldered with frustration.

“Stubborn, impossible woman,” he muttered under his breath.

He should’ve been relieved she was finally willing to stay with him.

He should’ve been thrilled she wanted him at all.

If it had been another woman he just wanted to fuck, Dante was sure he wouldn’t have blinked before setting her up like the perfect bimbo.

But this was Annabelle.

A woman he had recklessly set his heart on before.

And she wanted to be goddamn mistress!

And the way she’d framed it?

It was as if she were offering herself up on some twisted platter and that made his blood boil.

Also, that last demand.

That he never lied to her about love.

That cut deeper than he wanted to admit.

“Annabelle,” he whispered his voice like a mixture of threat and promise.

The sound echoed, swallowed by the vastness of the room.

She was getting the wrong picture, and he needed to make her stubborn neck see reason.

He had to fix this.

But first, he needed to calm the storm raging inside him.

Otherwise, the next conversation they had might end with more than just words being thrown.