Chapter 95: Making Amends
Dante’s POV
Gianna looked so small standing before me, the sheet pooled around her waist, revealing parts of her inner thighs.
I couldn’t stop staring at what I’d done to her body.
My fingers traced every mark, every bruise, every evidence of my loss of control. Faint red marks scattered across her pale skin like some fucked–up work of violence. Her breasts, her ribs, her hips, all marked by my mouth, my teeth, my hands.
“Does it hurt?”
She rolled her eyes, though the gesture lacked its usual fire. “What do you expect? You weren’t exactly gentle.”
I was supposed to feel triumphant. Victorious. I’d marked her, claimed her, made her mine in the most primal way possible.
But instead of satisfaction, guilt crashed over me in relentless waves. I’d let my anger take control, let my obsession with possessing her, punishing her for trying to escape, drown out everything else.
I’d been blinded by lust, consumed by the need to make her scream my name, to remind her she belonged to me… and I hadn’t stopped to think about what I was doing to her.
“I went too far.” The admission was honest. Truth. Pride demanded I stay silent, maintain the dominant facade.
But damn it all.
“I should have been more considerate. I apologize.”
I never apologized. Never showed weakness. Never admitted fault.
But seeing her like this, marked and bruised because of my lack of control…
She deserved better than what I’d given her last night.
“Dante De Luca… apologizing?” Her voice was almost dreamlike, disbelieving. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“I’m not too proud to apologize when I hurt someone I care about.”
The words were out before I could stop them.
Her eyes widened, lips parting slightly. “So you care about me?” The question was genuine, vulnerable in a way she rarely allowed herself to be.
A burning need rose in my chest, a need to reassure her, to make her understand.
“Gianna.” I cupped her face with both hands, forcing her to look at me. “If I didn’t care about you, you’d be dead for what you did last night. I would’ve put a bullet in your head and been done with it. And you sure as hell wouldn’t be wearing my ring. I don’t give this, any of this, to anyone. Not anymore.”
She scoffed, pulling back slightly. “Somehow I find that hard to believe… that a man like you is capable of having a heart to care.”
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Chapter 9 Moving Amends
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Her words cut deeper than she could ever know.
“There’s so much you don’t know about me, Gianna.”
“Oh, I know enough to know a man like you…” She tilted her chin up defiantly. “Knows nothing about affection, much less love. Or how to sustain a marriage.”
Her eyes flashed with challenge. “You probably don’t even know what it means to truly love someone. To put them first. To cherish them. All you know is control and domination and taking what you want. That’s not love, Dante. That’s possession.”
Each word was a carefully aimed arrow, and damn if she didn’t have perfect aim.
Anger flared hot in my chest. She knew exactly how to push every fucking button at once.
“Gianna,” I warned, my voice deepening, “don’t do this now.”
But of course, she didn’t stop. She never did.
“Oh, let’s.” She stepped forward. “I’m going to be your wife whether I want to or not, right? That’s the only way you can get a woman to marry you, by forcing her. Men like you are incapable of earning a woman’s love, so you just take it. You steal it. You demand it. Because deep down, you know no woman would ever choose you willingly…”
My patience snapped.
Before she could say another word, I moved fast, grabbing her and pulling her hard against my body. My hands captured hers, pinning them between us as I held her trapped against my chest.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I growled, my grip tightening, not in anger, but in desperate restraint.
If only she knew, my mind screamed. If only she knew how much I loved Esme. How I would have given my life for hers. How I’m doing all of this, every single thing, for her memory, for her legacy, for the justice she deserved.
But I couldn’t tell Gianna that. Couldn’t explain that my heart had already been given away to a woman now cold in the ground.
So instead, I leaned in close, my lips finding the shell of her ear. I bit down gently on her earlobe, feeling her entire body shiver against mine.
“Last night…” My voice dropped to a dark whisper, my breath hot against her skin. “I didn’t need to force you to give yourself to me.”
My hand slipped between the sheets, sliding between her legs. She trembled, her breath hitching as though her body was waiting, anticipating my touch on her pussy.
“Oh, you spread these thighs for me willingly. Eagerly.” My fingers traced higher, dancing teasingly close to her heat. “You begged me to fuck you. ‘Please, Dante. Please.‘ Remember?”
I felt her face flush hot with embarrassment and arousal.
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Chapter 95 Making Amends
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“Please, Dante. Please.“” I mimicked her desperate pleas from last night, my voice a mocking caress.” Remember those words falling from your lips? How you writhed beneath me, your greedy pussy grinding against me, pulling me deeper?”
“But I held back,” I reminded her, my fingers tracing patterns on her inner thigh, deliberately avoiding where she wanted me most. “I made you wait. Made you earn every inch of me. So keep talking like you didn’t want it, like you didn’t choose to surrender yourself completely, and I’ll remind you exactly how eagerly you gave yourself to me. I’ll fuck you right here on this bed, until you’re screaming the truth, that you’re mine, that you chose this, that you want me just as much as I want you.”
Our eyes met, hers filled with shock, anger, desire, and raw passion all swirling together in a tempest that mirrored my own.
She opened her mouth, probably to deliver some biting retort, but I didn’t give her the chance.
In one fluid motion, I swept her off her feet, lifting her into my arms.
She gasped, shocked, her hands flying to my chest. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Making amends,” I replied simply, carrying her toward the bathroom.
“By manhandling me again?”
“By taking care of you.” I shouldered through the bathroom door. “There’s a difference.”
“I’m not seeing it.‘
“You will.”
11
I placed her gently on the cool marble floor and moved to the large tub. Turning the faucets, I let the water run hot, testing the temperature with my hand repeatedly until it was perfect, hot enough to soothe her aching muscles, but not scalding.
“Perfect,” I murmured, more to myself than to her.
When I turned back, she was standing there with her arms folded across her chest, the sheet clutched around her like armor. Her eyes blazed with defiance.
Of course she’d fight me on this too.
I’d just slipped an engagement ring on her finger while she was asleep, trapped her in a future she never chose. I expected her to fight me on everything now.
But this was one battle she couldn’t win. She was going to be my wife, whether she wanted to or not.
Earlier, when Bruno told me marriage was the only way to gain access to Esme’s inheritance, I’d lived in a moment of deep reluctance. The idea of forcing Gianna into something as permanent as marriage, binding her future to mine, stealing the innocence and freedom of her youth, made me pause,
For reasons I still couldn’t fully accept, I cared.
Having her as my mistress was one thing. But marriage… that was forever.
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Chapter 95. Making Amends
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And yet, after she tried to escape, after I realized how close I’d come to losing her completely, mercy ceased to
exist.
I wasn’t ready to let her go.
“Get in,” I commanded, pointing toward the tub.
She lifted her chin, her arms folding tighter across her chest. “I can take my own bath. Myself. I don’t need your help.” She finished with a sarcastic, completely fake smile. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
Fire coursed through my veins.
“Gianna, this isn’t up for discussion or argument.” My voice came out hard as rock. “Take the sheets off and get in, or I’ll make you.”
She fucking had to make everything a war zone.
P
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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.
