Chapter 36: Casting The Votes
Dante’s POV
Gia couldn’t hide the sweet conflict in her stare, and it had me hard as fuck. But then her hands slipped back under her dress. She shifted in the seat, wiggling her hips as the fabric slid down her thighs.
My eyes followed every move, every little twist of her body as she took her panties off. When she finally freed them, I extended my palm, open and waiting. She held on for a moment before finally placing the lace in my hand, reluctant, ashamed.
I brought it to my nose and inhaled deeply. Fuck. Her scent hit me instantly, sweet, intoxicating, a raw woman. Then I folded it in my palm. The panties were damp. My cock jerked against my zipper.
“They’re damp,” I taunted. “You know what that means?” I let the silence stretch, eyes locked on hers. “Are you dripping for me already?”
Her breath stuttered, her head shaking ever so slightly, like she wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t, not when her body told the truth.
“Let’s find out.”
I let my hand trail down, sliding over the smooth silk of her thigh. She gasped, soft and breathy, her lips parted as her chest rose against her dress. I stroked lower, inch by inch, until I felt it, heat and moisture waiting for me, dripping on her inner thighs.
“Fuck,” I growled, my voice darker and filthier than I’d ever let her hear. “You’re soaked for me, my filthy little whore.”
I was about to stroke her slit, to see how ready she was for me, when….
“Don… we’re here,” Bruno announced from the front.
I cursed under my breath, yanking my hand back. My cock throbbed against my pants in anger, aching, but I couldn’t afford distractions. Not tonight.
Regaining my throne came first. Always.
“It’s show time.” I turned to her. “This should be a lesson, Gia. When we go inside, don’t speak to anyone. Only me. Or I swear, I’ll make your body pay until you wish you never dared defy me. Is that clear?”
She was still dazed, her voice breathy as she whispered, “Yes… Don Dante.”
The sound of it hit me hard. The first time she called me Don Dante, I liked it. Too much. But I liked the way my name alone rolled off her lips even more.
Bruno pulled the car door open. I stepped out, straightening my jacket before extending my hand for hers.
She pulled back. My patience snapped. “Gia. Take my hand. Now.”
She leaned closer, whispering low, shame coloring her words. “My panties… I can’t walk in there bare… ass.”
–
I smirked darkly. “That’s exactly how I want you to walk in there. Bare. So you know I can take you anytime I want.”
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Her lips parted in outrage, ready to argue, but I didn’t give her the chance.
She placed her hand in mine, and I helped her down, her body tense, her eyes flashing with shame and fury and desire. Perfect.
The double doors swung open with a heavy crash, and I reveled in the silence that followed. Every clan head sat at the long, gleaming table; their voices cut mid–sentence as their gazes turned toward me.
I stepped in, Gia’s arm locked in mine. She was trembling, fear alive under my grip, but I pulled her closer, not trusting her not to cause a scene. She knew better, if she tried, the consequences would be dire.
Gasps broke the stillness. Murmurs spread like fire down the length of the chamber.
“Impossible…” a voice hissed. “Dante De Luca has returned…” another whispered, half in awe, half in dread. “I heard he was rotting in some underground slum… and now he’s with… Lorenzo’s heir?”
I let their words hang in the air, feeding on their disbelief as we walked toward the long table. Gia’s presence at my side was no accident; it was an intentional move, a strategy chosen for this very moment. Lorenzo’s daughter, his last legacy, clinging to my arm for every eye to see. She was possession, victory, proof that the Giovanni line was finished and the De Luca name had risen again. With her in my grasp, I crushed every hope that Lorenzo would ever return, because his bloodline stood here, already claimed by me.
Every pair of eyes locked onto me, some wide with shock, others clouded with fear. But it was Augusto Vitale’s face I wanted, and when I found it, I almost smiled. Disbelief destroyed his composure as he rose to his feet.
“You…” he snarled, his voice breaking against the walls. “You’re meant to be rotting in exile! The crown left your family the moment you were cast out. It’s mine now! You all promised!”
The patriarch Luto, the only family who had never betrayed me, slammed his hand against the table. “Enough, Augusto. You forget yourself. The crown has rested in Dante’s bloodline for generations. He is the rightful king. Not Lorenzo, who stained our streets with blood. Not you, scavenging for scraps of power. When Dante ruled, there was peace. Our families thrived, our businesses flourished, and the government stayed in our pocket. That’s the truth.”
Augusto scowled. “His time is gone. Lorenzo is dead, and by every pact we made, this throne is mine!”
He pushed his chair back, the scrape of wood echoing through the chamber, and stalked to the head of the long table. Planting his hands firmly against it, he stood tall, facing every clan as though they were his court.
“Save the sob stories, Luto. We’ve all suffered. We’ve all lost. But this isn’t about sentiment, it’s about the throne. And it’s mine. You all promised it!”
I studied him the way one studies a starving dog snarling over a bone. Pitiful. His desperation reeked.
I laughed coldly. “No need to trade words with a scavenger fighting for scraps. None of you here have any right to challenge me. You all stood by as that monster stole my seat and destroyed what I’d cherished the most. You should be ashamed, each and every one of you. This dynasty was once a home of order. You’ve turned it into a pit of greed and rot. Only the Luto family remained loyal. Their loyalty will not be forgotten.”
“Enough!” Augusto roared, slamming both fists onto the table. His eyes burned with rage. “The vote was meant to crown me tonight! Don’t twist this moment!”
Luto leaned forward, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Then let’s settle it as we were about to earlier. Put it
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to a vote.”
Murmurs echoed around the room. The chairs shifted. Heads turned. One voice broke through. “Luto is right.” Another followed, “The De Luca bloodline ruled us for years, they will always hold a stake to the throne.” A third added, “He just needs the highest number of votes. That’s the law. The bylaws bind us all.”
The room buzzed with reluctant agreement.
Luto straightened. His voice carried authority, calm and unshaken. “Now that we’re all in agreement… then let’s finish it. We’ll vote. Here. Now.”
Augusto sneered. “Whatever. Let’s vote. I know I have the numbers. De Luca will witness another heavy loss, and when I’m named Mafia King, he can crawl back into whatever hole he came from.”
A smirk pulled at my mouth. Poor fool. Lorenzo had never understood; no one in these halls had ever been loyal to him. Not then, not now. Their loyalty belonged only to their greedy pockets and self–serving interests. And in minutes, Augusto would learn the truth… that they had already sold him out.
Because now, every single one of them belonged to me.
Luto raised his hand, his voice steady and commanding. “All in favor of Augusto Vitale as the new Mafia King… show your card. Brown.”
日
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
