Chapter 42 Pledging My Submission
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Chapter 42: Pledging My Submission
Gia’s POV
Mira’s hand trembled on the herb bunch. “I shouldn’t, we’re not supposed to talk about it. Please, Gia. Can we not?”
Before I could answer, Grace’s voice snapped from the doorway. “Enough, Mira.”
We both turned. Grace stood with her basket of herbs, eyes fixed on her daughter with a warning look.
Mira’s cheeks flushed. “I was only…”
“No.” Grace’s tone softened when she looked at me, but her edge stayed. “Breakfast is almost ready. Gia, thank you for helping, but don’t trouble yourself with old stories. Some things are better left in the past.”
Her interruption told me everything. There was a story, something painful, something Dante had buried deep. And if Mira knew even a fraction of it, I’d find a way to get her to tell me.
But not now. Not with Grace watching.
Breakfast was ready and had been served.
I sat in the dining room, tapping my nails mindlessly against the polished oak table. The thing stretched so far it could have hosted a summit of world leaders. A ridiculous number of chairs, all lined up like soldiers waiting for orders. Typical. The Mafia king wouldn’t just eat, he needed a throne room masquerading as a dining hall.
I rolled my eyes at the absurdity of it all and muttered under my breath, “Overcompensating much?”
The doors opened, and Dante walked in.
Of course, he looked like danger itself dressed in black. Hair slicked back, every strand perfectly in place. Predictably, he wore a black shirt, as colour seemed to have been exiled from his closet.
The fabric clung to his chest, sleeves rolled neatly, veins visible along his forearms as though the man had been sculpted by a master obsessed with perfection.
My throat went dry, and I swallowed quickly before he noticed.
His steps slowed when his eyes found me already seated. A flash of shock passed over his face. He wasn’t used to this. Usually, he came down first, or worse, sent guards to drag me downstairs as I kicked and screamed. But today wasn’t about defiance. Today was about my performance.
I rose to my feet, pushing back the chair with unhurried grace before stepping out from behind it, as though greeting a king.
I pasted on my brightest, sweetest smile and let my voice ring out loud.
“Good morning, Dante.”
The corner of his mouth curled into a smirk as he stopped at the head of the table.
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Chapter 47 Pledging My Submission
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“I didn’t expect to find you here. Normally I’d have to send guards to fetch and force you downstairs, but here you are, surprisingly seated before me.”
I chuckled, leaning back like I was perfectly at ease.
“You got me there. But you can’t blame me. All of this is new to me. I just needed some time to adjust.”
One brow arched. “And now, you’re suddenly used to all of this?”
I couldn’t miss the sarcasm in his tone as his hand swept around, gesturing at the grand hall like it was some kind of theme park attraction. “Because last night, you made it very clear you wanted nothing to do with being my mistress.”
I forced another swallow. He was baiting me, trying to shatter the act. “I’ll admit, I can be… difficult. Last night was one of those moments.”
His smirk deepened, his eyes widening as though the word itself amused him.
“Difficult?” He repeated with mocking disbelief. “That doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
I laughed awkwardly and pointed at him. “Okay, you got me there again. I might be stubborn. Adamant maybe.”
“More like it,” he cut in smoothly.
I tilted my head, matching his tone. “You know, sometimes life places us in situations we never asked for. And our first instinct is to fight. But eventually, we realize it’s better to accept what we can’t change, our fate, no matter how unfair it feels. And that’s why I’ve decided to submit to you.”
With that, I bent into a slow, deliberate cross–legged bow, my dress spilling like sunny silk around me, pooling at his feet as if sealing the act.
That was when he nearly burst out laughing. His shoulders shook, his eyes gleamed, and the sound he let out was rich with mockery.
“Submissive and you in the same sentence? That sounds ridiculous, like the joke of the century. Even to your own ears.” His smirk sharpened. “But in time, I’ll break you. And then you won’t have to fake it.”
Anger rose in my chest. I bit back the retort burning on my tongue. Break me.
He said it with such certainty it made me want to spit in his face. Keep dreaming, Don Dante. You’ll never break me. My heart is mine and will never belong to you.
I didn’t say what I really thought. Instead, I kept up the act.
“You don’t need to break me anymore.” I lifted my head, rising to my full height again, my spine straight as
steel.
“I’ve decided to do as you wish, Don Dante.”
He shook his head as though he wasn’t buying a second of it.
“Let’s see how long this act lasts.”
I opened my mouth to insist it would last fores
Chapter 42 Pledging My Submission
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silenced me with a raised hand. His voice shifted into command.
“Sit. Let’s eat.”
I obeyed, easing back into my chair. He pulled his own seat out and sat.
That was when Mira stepped forward and reached for the serving spoon. She lifted the lid of the steaming dish, ready to serve.
But before she could, I rose from my seat, stopping her hands with a soft look.
“Thanks, Mira. But I’d like to serve Don Dante this time.”
Mira blinked at me, confused, her eyes darting to Dante for approval. His brows shot up in surprise, and for once, he seemed utterly speechless. Then, with the faintest nod, he allowed it.
Mira stepped back reluctantly, and I reached for the spoon, holding it with a careful smile.
“Any special request from the dishes before you?”
He studied me for a moment, silent, like he wasn’t sure what game I was playing. Finally, his lips curved.
“I’ll eat whatever you serve me.”
“That’s great,” I replied sweetly, serving him a generous portion.
I began talking lightly as though we were just an ordinary couple having an ordinary breakfast. “Personally, I love the risotto alla milanese. It’s creamy, rich, and the taste is just perfect.‘
As I set the plate in front of him, his eyes narrowed curiously.
“And how do you know how good it tastes? Have you sampled it already?”
>>
Panic pricked under my skin. Grace had been clear, I wasn’t supposed to let him know I’d been anywhere near preparing the meal.
I lied smoothly, forcing a shrug.
“From the smell. It’s heavenly. My father used to say you can judge a man, or a dish, from the way it smells.”
The second the word “father” left my lips, Dante’s face hardened. His jaw flexed, and he stabbed his fork into the food, shoving it into his mouth with a force that said more than words.
Regret swept through me instantly, realizing too late how deeply the mention rattled him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice softer now. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s clear that talking about my dad…”
The scrape of his fork against the plate cut me off as Dante set the metal down with deliberate calm.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. He was your father. A part of your life. You can’t just erase him.” He leaned back in his chair, his tone chilling into confidence. “But I’ll make sure he becomes nothing more than a memory.”
I smiled faintly, though inside I was seething. His disdain was clear. His hatred for my father ran deeper than business, deeper than the mafia war.
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Chapter 42 Pledging My Submission
And I was going to find out why.
P
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.
