und painfully in her chest. Dante stood there, calm and unreadable, as if her next words

r. It was life and death. Not

r voice low, trembling just enough to bet

s hands still casually tucked into his pockets, the perfect im

irling together. "Stay and do what? Be a prisone

indifference. "You're not a prisoner. You're here because I want you here, and be

"You didn't give me a choice! You think throwing money at me for my mo

t she could feel the warmth of his body, and yet his gaze was like ice-cold and detached. "You made your cho

er chin, meeting his gaze with as much defiance as she could muster. "I did it

it was gone in an instant, replaced by the same steely resolve that always surrounded him. "Cal

ere fact-unchangeable, inevitable-made her stomach twist. He was laying down the l

d, more to herself than to him, though her voice was defia

licker of something beneath his cold exterior-anger, or maybe something deeper, something possess

o matter where you go, no matter how far you think you can e

soul. She wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, that no one could own her. But the truth was, in that moment

eet his gaze any longer. She couldn't let him see how much his words affected her. She couldn'

red, her voice barely audible, her eyes fixed on the

oke, his voice was low, quiet, but it held an edge t

softly, his words a contrast to the coldness in his ey

im, her mind racing. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him he was wrong, that she wasn't his to claim. But deep down, sh

oved toward the door. Just before he left, he paused, gla

said, his tone suddenly businessl

g to face him again,

smile, though there was no warmth in it. "It's

im. Elena stood there for several long moments, her heart pounding, her

tly-what would th

rounded by a team of women Dante had sent to prepare her. The dress they had chosen was blood-red, a gown that clung to her body like a second

that made her green eyes stand out even more, and a bold red lip to ma

d with a smile, stepping back to admire

day before, but now she was about to step into his world-his people, his life. The thought

nd staircase. He was dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, his dark hair combed back, and when he l

s toward him. His gaze never left her, and for a moment, Elena felt like the only

d, her voice a little s

faint smile as he extended

a jolt of electricity shot through her, the connection between them undeniable. She didn't want to

f the Mafia King, surrounded by the people who made that world spin. And as much as she wanted to

out of it unscathed, or would Da