Gianna’s POV
Mira glanced toward the guards by the gate. Then she looked back at me, her voice low. “All I can tell you is that…. … Dante has a daughter.”
I blinked, shocked. “A daughter?”
She nodded. “Nobody knows where she lives or who she’s with, but he has one. That’s the family he goes to see.”
For a moment, my mind struggled to piece it together. Dante. A father. The same man who could break bones without feeling guilty, who looked at me like I was both temptation and punishment. How could that same man hold a child? What kind of woman had been with him? What kind of little girl called him Papa?
The thought didn’t fit him. Yet the realization stirred warmth inside of me. Maybe he had a heart, and wasn’t entirely made of stone.
“What about her mother?” I asked carefully. “Is he married? Does he have a wife?”
Mira stiffened. The ease in her expression vanished. “That’s the one thing I can’t talk about.”
“Forbidden?” I repeated softly.
“Yes. I can tell you other things if you want, Gianna, but no that. I can’t discuss her.”
The way her voice lowered, the way her eyes darted away, it told me everything. There was a story buried there, something she wasn’t even allowed to breathe. But if I pushed, she’d close up completely.
So I gave her a small, understanding smile. “It’s okay. I don’t want to get you into trouble.”
Relief flashed across her face. “Thank you.”
“There are other things I could ask,” I said lightly, swirling the lemonade in my glass.
“Like what?”
I took a sip. “Has he always been this way? So controlled, so distant?”
Mira sighed. “No,” she said quietly. “But that’s one of the things I’m not allowed to talk about either.”
I laughed softly, shaking my head. “He really doesn’t make it easy, does he?”
“No, he doesn’t,” she said with a small grin.
I set the glass down and leaned closer, lowering my voice. “Then maybe you can help me with something else.”
Her brows drew together. “What is it?”
“I want to learn how to please him.”
The words came out softer than I intended, more like a confession than a request.
Mira gasped, shocked. “I can’t…… imagine pleasing a man ke Don Dante,” she whispered, glancing around nervously as if he might appear. “That would be……”
“Impossible?” I tilted my head, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “But you managed with Bruno.”
Mira’s eyes shifted to where Bruno stood a few yards away, still talking to one of the guards. Her fingers wrapped around her glass, and she took a long drink, as if the liquid ould cool the sudden heat between us. Truth was, I felt it too, a strange flush under my skin that I couldn’t quite name.
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Before I could talk myself out of it, I reached across the table and took her hand.
“I want you to teach me how to make Dante surrender control to me.”
“Gia……”
I took a slow breath, feeling the tension tighten in my chest “Listen,” I said, my voice trembling but honest. “I want to be vulnerable with you. I’m still a virgin.”
Her mouth parted in shock. “You are?” She blinked, her brows drawing together. “I would have thought…… Don Dante……”
Heat rushed to my face before I could stop it. The memory of that night, his gaze, the way he stopped himself right at the edge, flashed through me. “No,” I said softly, my fingers twisting in my lap. “We haven’t.”
Mira’s lips curved in faint disbelief. “Now that’s a true surprise. Is there a reason? Did he ever mention anything?”
I shook my head slowly. “The first night, I said some things that upset him, and he walked away. But a part of me believes…….” I hesitated, realizing how much I was revealing. “I think he showed me some kind of mercy. Like he sensed I was afraid and stopped.”
It was the first time I’d said it aloud or even admitted it to myself.
For a long moment, silence hung between us. Then I turned back to her. “That’s why I need to learn, to understand the secret of sex, so I can reach him.”
Mira’s eyes softened. “Gianna, sex isn’t just about what happens in bed. It’s about knowing what makes you feel alive. Women like us, we’re not taught that. We’re taught to hide, to wait, to please, without ever understanding what desire even feels like.”
She paused, her gaze steady on mine. “But to really answer your question……”
She leaned in, her voice dropping to a serious intensity. “With men like Dante……. it’s not about learning how to please them. It’s about knowing when to stop fighting. They’re drawn to control, but the moment a woman stops being afraid to surrender, truly surrender, that’s when the balance shifts.”
“Surrender?” The word caught in my throat. “You mean…… just give up?”
Mira shook her head, her eyes glinting in the fading light. “No. Not giving up. There’s a difference.” She leaned closer, her tone a whisper meant only for me. “Surrender isn’t weakness. It’s power. You can make a man like Dante lower his guard if you meet his dominance with calm instead of fear. You let him think he’s in control……. while you quietly take it back.”
I listened, my pulse quickening. “That sounds……. difficult. Even for me.”
Mira gave a small, knowing smile. “It’s not. Bruno taught me that without meaning to. He wanted control, too. But the moment I trusted him enough to stop resisting, everything changed. He softened. He gave more. When you stop fearing their power, that’s when they lose it.”
I met her eyes. “And what if I don’t want to surrender?”
Mira let out a soft chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “Maybe we started off too serious,” a small smile tugged at her lips.
Then her gaze drifted toward the guards again, her tone softening even more. “If you really want to start somewhere, begin with yourself.”
My brows lifted. “Myself?”
“Watch videos,” she murmured, eyes darting back to mine. Learn about your body, what makes you react, what
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makes you ache, what makes you tick. You can’t reach a man like Dante until you understand what stirs you.”
Her lips curved, that glint turning darker, “even if that means touching yourself.”
“Oh, Mira,” I breathed, half–laughing, half–shocked. “Now this is getting heated.”
We both giggled, the sound soft and conspiratorial. But beneath my laughter, a slow heat coursed through me.
I remembered that night, how close I’d come to touching myself while watching Dante’s hand move over his cock. If he hadn’t stopped me…… God, I would’ve done it.
“Oh, we’re just starting.” She squealed.
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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.
