Gianna’s POV

“Do you think I’m going to poison you?” Dante asked suddenly, his voice much calmer than it had any right to be. 

My fingers shook around the glass, then, slowly… I nodded. 

A dry chuckle left his lips, as though he was mocking my response. “If I wanted you dead,” he said coldly, “you’d have been dead the moment you passed out in my car.” 

When I didn’t respond, he let out an irritated sigh, grabbed the glass from my hand, and took a sip himself. Then he pushed it back toward me. 

“Drink it, now. You’ll need your strength. And you’ll need to stay hydrated… for what I have planned tonight.” 

I wanted to ask what he meant, but changed my mind. The less conversations I had with this man, the better for me. 

So I tipped the glass back and gulped down every drop. Only then did I realize how thirsty I was, how dry my throat had been as the cool liquid slid down my throat. I drank like I hadn’t seen water in days. 

When I was done, he took the glass from my hand and set it on the side table. 

Then, without speaking, he retrieved something from the tray the woman had brought in earlier. A small tube. 

He opened it, dipped his fingers inside, then sat beside me once more. 

I tensed. 

“Relax,” he voice was low and reassuring. 

His fingers brushed against my neck again, this time with cool gel between them. 

The tenderness of it made my skin shiver. 

My body jerked involuntarily at the contact, but he pulled me closer, holding me steady with his other hand. 

“Stop moving,” He commanded. “Or else you could smear it all over your body.” 

“Alright.” I replied softly. 

He moved slowly, carefully, applying the ointment in soft, circular strokes into my skin. 

And I hated that it felt good. 

That his touch was gentle and soothing sent little sparks dancing beneath my skin. 

Once he was done, he let his fingers linger just a second too long before pulling back. 

“Does it feel better?” he asked. 

I hesitated, my voice thin and brittle. “…Yes.” 

“Good,” he said, his tone shifting again, colder. Distant. 

As if whatever part of him that showed me kindness… had already vanished. 

And the monster I feared was back. 

The contradiction of this man was enough to make me dizzy. 

Then he tilted my face up with a rough, confident grip, forcing me to meet the cold darkness in his eyes. 

“I expected you to be a little shaken,” he said, his tone flat, almost amused. “But not this damn stubborn. Or downright obnoxious.” 

How dare he call me stubborn? 

After everything he’d put me through, threatening to sell me, shattering what little life I had left, he still expected me to just nod and obey? What kind of delusional world did this man live in, where no one challenged him? 

His voice was laced with irritation as he continued. 

“I thought, knowing your life was at risk, you’d be grateful and accept my offer willingly. Knowing that I’m the best option you have.” 

I folded my arms across my chest, more to hide how badly I was shaking than to look defiant. “How am I supposed to be sure you really are my best bet?” 

His eyes narrowed. “Well, for one,” he leaned closer, “you can be sure I would never auction you off to another man. I’m the only man you’ll ever belong to.” 

I couldn’t help it, my eyes rolled before I could stop myself. The way he said it, like I was supposed to feel grateful that only one man would own me. How sick was that? 

He caught it. Of course he did. 

His stare hardened. “Can you say the same about those vile men at Vincenzo’s club?” 

I matched his gaze. “Maybe you should let me go so I can find out for myself.” 

Dante’s mouth curved into a tight, mocking smile. “I’ve given you more grace than most, firecracker. But you’re bent on making this harder than it needs to be.” 

“I’m not trying to be difficult,” I replied, my voice shaky. “I know you don’t have a conscience, but if there’s even a piece of one left in you, then try to understand… all of this is new to me. My father is dead. I was sold to the man who killed him, like an object. And now I’m supposed to just… adjust to the mafia world overnight? I don’t even understand any of this.” 

He didn’t speak. Just looked at me. 

My throat burned as I forced out the rest. 

“If this is all about revenge… if my father’s truly dead… then why not just kill me, instead of torturing me slowly?” 

Dante let out a low, cruel laugh. 

“Moments ago, you were begging me to spare your life. Now you’re asking me to end it?” 

He tilted his head mockingly. “Interesting.” 

“That’s not what I meant….” 

But he cut me off, eyes gleaming coldly. 

“The reason you’re still alive is because Lorenzo escaped. I shot him, but he got away.” 

The words hit me hard. Shock tore through me like a lightning bolt. 

“That’s not possible,” I breathed. “I watched you shoot him. He fell… there was blood…” 

“Yes,” Dante admitted, almost bored now. “But when you screamed… it distracted me. I turned my head for one goddamn second. Long enough for a few of his men to get in and drag him out. By the time mine reached the courtyard, he was gone.” 

My head was spinning. 

“Gone?” 

“Vanished,” he confirmed. “Two hours later, his car was found set ablaze. Police said it was a head-on collision, and all bodies were burnt beyond recognition.” 

He paused. His eyes stayed locked on mine. 

“My men swore it was him,” Dante went on. “But my instincts, which have never failed me, tell me otherwise. Lorenzo is alive. And until I know for certain, I’ll use the one thing he loved most to draw him out.” 

His voice dipped, full of vengeance. “You.” 

My heart dropped as a mix of fear and relief washed over me. 

My father might be alive. 

I held onto the thought with everything I had. I prayed it was true. That he escaped. That somewhere, somehow, he was safe. Maybe even planning to come for me. 

He always said I was his world. That he’d die for me. 

That had to mean something. And just maybe, there was a way out of this for me. I just had to survive long enough for him to find me. 

But Dante had other plans. 

“This is taking too long. Clearly, you need some convincing.” 

He turned abruptly, pulled out his phone and walked a few steps away, speaking low into it. I couldn’t hear much, just enough to know I didn’t like whatever was coming next. 

Then the steel door opened. 

A tall man stepped in, brown-haired, broad-shouldered, with the kind of calm confidence that screamed danger. I recognized him instantly. He’d been at the auction. He’d driven the car that took me from hell to… wherever this place was.Gianna’s 

His eyes shifted to Dante, waiting. 

“Bruno,” Dante said, “bring her in.” 

Bruno gave a silent nod and walked out. 

My blood turned cold. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice rising in panic. “Who are you bringing in?” 

No answer. Just silence. 

The minutes stretched too long and finally. 

Then the door opened again. 

And I froze. 

“Aunt Camilla?” 

My voice broke on her name. 

Shock slammed into my chest. I stood, legs wobbling, unsure if I was dreaming. 

She stepped inside slowly. Her eyes met mine, and for the briefest moment, I saw the same exhaustion, the same fear, mirrored in her gaze. 

Before I could move, Dante spoke. 

“I’ll give you both some time.” 

He turned without another word and walked out, leaving me alone with the woman I once believed had tried to protect me. 

But now… I wasn’t so sure.