Chapter 5: The Safe House

“He wants to completely erase you,” Dante finished, his voice trembling with a raw terror that chilled me to the bone.

He didn’t wait for my response. Dante grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward the sleek black SUV waiting in the alleyway. He shoved me into the passenger seat and threw himself behind the wheel. The tires shrieked against the wet asphalt as he slammed his foot onto the gas pedal.

“Dante, slow down!” I gasped, gripping the leather armrest as we careened around a sharp corner. “Who is your uncle? Why does he care about a waitress?”

“Salvatore Moretti is not just a mob boss, Claire,” Dante growled, his eyes constantly darting to the rearview mirror. “He is the architect of everything dark in this city. And he does not tolerate anomalies.”

“I am not an anomaly! I just won a boxing match!”

“You humiliated his syndicate in front of two hundred people!” Dante yelled, his composure finally shattering. “You proved that my men are fallible. And worse, you proved that I am distracted.”

The heavy silence in the car was suffocating. I stared at his tense, rigid profile illuminated by the passing streetlights.

“Distracted by what?” I asked softly.

Dante hit the brakes, pulling the SUV into a heavily guarded underground parking garage beneath a towering glass skyscraper. He killed the engine and turned to face me in the dark cabin.

“By you,” Dante admitted, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “I am supposed to be a ruthless, unfeeling machine. But every time I look at you, I remember what it feels like to be human.”

He escorted me to a private elevator that required a retinal scan to operate. We rode up in absolute silence, the tension so thick I could hardly breathe. The steel doors slid open, revealing a sprawling, ultra-modern penthouse wrapped in floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering Chicago skyline.

“This is my private sanctuary,” Dante said, locking the heavy deadbolt behind us. “Nobody knows about it except my most trusted inner circle. You are safe here.”

I walked over to the massive windows, staring down at the city. My reflection stared back at me—a girl in a beautiful emerald dress who had completely lost control of her life.

“I won one fight,” I whispered to the glass. “How did my life get so complicated in three days?”

Dante stepped up right behind me. He didn’t touch me, but the heat radiating from his body was an undeniable force.

“You didn’t just win a fight,” Dante murmured softly. “You showed everyone in my violent, broken world that you are completely extraordinary. And you cannot be extraordinary in this life without deadly consequences.”

I turned around, my back pressing against the cold glass. “I don’t want to be extraordinary, Dante. I just want to pay off my medical bills and live my life.”

“It is entirely too late for that,” he replied, his dark eyes locking onto mine.

“Then what do we do?” I pleaded.

“We wait,” Dante said smoothly. “I will handle Salvatore. I will negotiate. But whatever happens, Claire, you must stay away from him. He is not like me. He is a predator who enjoys playing with his food.”

“And what exactly are you?” I challenged, crossing my arms.

His smile was tragic and incredibly sad. “I am the monster who is going to keep you safe, even if it destroys my entire empire.”

Then, he kissed me.

The kiss was made of absolute fire and desperate inevitability. I should have pushed him away. I should have remembered the criminal blood running through his veins. But his hands were incredibly gentle, cupping my face like I was the most precious thing he had ever held.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing heavily.

“That was a massive mistake,” I whispered, resting my forehead against his chest.

“Probably,” Dante agreed, wrapping his arms around my waist. “But I am not sorry.”

Before I could reply, my cell phone vibrated violently inside my clutch purse. I pulled it out, assuming it was Vincent the manager. Instead, it was an unknown number.

“Miss Dalton. My nephew seems quite taken with you. I would very much like to meet the woman who has captured his undivided attention. Tomorrow. 2:00 PM. The address will be sent separately. Come alone, or Dante loses his fingers.”

Ice flooded my veins. I handed the phone to Dante.

The color instantly drained from his face as he read the screen. “How? How in God’s name did he get your private number?”

“I don’t know,” I choked out.

“Damn it!” Dante roared, throwing his own phone against the leather sofa. “He is moving much faster than I anticipated. He sees you as a direct threat to his control over me.”

“What does he want?” I panicked.

“He wants to test you,” Dante explained grimly. “My uncle does not believe women belong in our world except as tools or decorations. You disrupted that worldview. He wants to put you back in your place.”

If the person you were falling for was threatened with torture because of you, would you walk away to keep them safe, or walk directly into the trap to protect them?

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