Gia’s POV
+25 Bonus
I ran into the bedroom, tiny sparks coursing through every nerve in my body as I dropped onto the edge of the bed, my breath still shallow.
My eyes darted to the closet door, expecting him to come bursting out at any second. Part of me wanted him to. God help me, I wanted him to.
My heart pounded as the memory replayed over and over in my head. The instant his lips touched mine, all that pent–up frustration and fury I had been holding on to melted into raw, burning desire.
Even now, with my eyes squeezed shut, I could still taste him, still feel the heat of his body against mine, awakening a part of me I hadn’t even known existed.
This time I hadn’t shoved him away. I hadn’t even thought about it.
There was none of the guilt I had worn like armor before, none of the resisting that proved I wasn’t his to own. No, this time there was no fight. Just a fire that threatened to swallow me if I let it.
The closet door opened and I held my breath, half terrified, half aching for him to come back. He didn’t. He strode past without looking my way, slammed the door, and the sound shattered every foolish hope I had let myself keep.
I let the breath go and collapsed against the mattress, staring at the ceiling.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Tonight had been chaotic–the gathering, the way those men stared at me like I didn’t belong at their table, like I was nothing more than a commodity. One of them even sneered the words: “Dante’s whore.”
I squeezed the sheets, hot with anger. The audacity, my body was treated like something to be passed around. I wanted to claw his face off.
They only backed down because Dante spoke. His voice cut the room, commanding, absolute, and, shockingly, it warmed my heart to be defended by him.
He ordered them to call off every bounty on my head. With a word he wiped the target from my back.
From monster to protector, in one breath.
Chivalrous, if I wanted to romanticize it.
But I wasn’t naive. He didn’t do it out of honor. Dante wasn’t a man of honor. He did it because he wanted to be the only one who could touch me, the only one who could punish me, use me, break me for his own satisfaction.
Finally, the pieces clicked into place. My father hadn’t just betrayed Dante, he had usurped a seat that never belonged to him. And now Dante had taken it back.
Mafia King. That’s what they called him.
But not without a price.
Me.
He could swear he didn’t need me, but my gut knew better was the last thread tying my father’s bloodline to Dante’s claim. If the world believed Lorenzo dead, and to them he was, then I was all that remained. His daughter. The only heir. And that was why he needed me close, so his reign stayed unopposed.
I felt the memory of the fire in his eyes when he said it, that he would never let me go. He meant it.
I had one move left.
I had to escape.
And if I failed… it wouldn’t just mean staying. It would mean belonging to him. Forever.
+25 Bonus
Today marked the first day of plotting iny escape.
I stood at the window, eyes fixed on the endless stretch of land and trees surrounding Dante’s estate. To anyone else, it might seem like I was admiring the view of a fortress pulled straight from a fairytale. But I wasn’t searching for beauty, I was mapping the perimeter.
Guards were stationed at nearly every mile, armed and alert None of their faces were familiar. That told me what I needed to know, Dante rotated them.
Last night put everything into perspective. The only way out of this fortress wasn’t through defiance. Every time I fought Dante, every time I hurled my anger at him, he only built stronger defenses, tightening the invisible chains I felt with every breath. The way out was to act broken. To act tamed. To let him believe I had surrendered, that I had accepted the role of his willing mistress. If that was what it took to win his trust, then so be it.
If I played it well enough, it might be enough to buy my freedom.
He had agreed, and even stated it in the contract, to let me go to college. But even that was on his terms. With guards tailing me, suffocating me, monitoring my every move, it would still be life in a cage. No different from the one my father forced me into.
My father. The man I thought I knew was nothing more than a lie. Nothing more than an ex–mafia king with blood on his hands, a criminal who had hurt people, who had left scars I couldn’t ignore.
And now Dante had made it clear, I was the one who would pay for his crimes.
Dante believed he was alive. And because of that, I clung to the same hope. I needed him to be alive. I needed to stand in front of him and ask with my own lips if all the horror said about him was true.
Did he truly do those things? Was he truly the monster they claimed? Because how else was I supposed to reconcile the man who raised me with the monster they spat about?
It tore me apart to think that the man I once called father might have been cruel, vengeful, merciless, and that now, because of him, I was the one trapped in this prison.
The night Dante first brought me here, he knocked me out. never saw the road, never knew the location. He had made sure of it.
Last night was the first time I had left the estate since then. It was late, so I couldn’t see much beyond the walls, but I noticed something. Two gates. A smaller one near the house, and a larger one that opened to the outside world. The estate had to be hidden deep, because it took a long time before we finally reached the city.
And that made my escape plan feel even more impossible than I had imagined. Suddenly, Grace’s words echoed in my head.
Fight to win, Gianna.
She was right. If I wanted out, I couldn’t do it alone. I needed allies, those who held the keys to the gates.
Two names kept surfacing.
Grace. Mira.
2/3
Cropter 40 Plotting My Escape
+25 Bonus
Grace had been kind, soft in ways that made you trust her. But she was loyal to Dante. Loyal enough that she would never betray him.
But Mira was different.
We were close in age, close enough to share the same hunger for freedom, the same restless dreams of life beyond these walls. She wanted out just as much as I did. And even if she didn’t mean to, even if it happened by accident, I was certain that one day she would hand me my way out.
I just had to get close to her.
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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.
