Chapter 4

Juliana's POV

"Don Landini," the housekeeper said, her head bowing instantly.

"I asked you a question, Maria," he said, his voice holding an authority that allowed no argument. "You are to inform me when I have a visitor, not dismiss them on your own." His gaze fell on me. "Come with me."

I followed him down a lavish corridor. Carved stone pillars, imported Italian marble floors, and priceless classical oil paintings on the walls.

"My time is valuable, Miss Rossi," he said, gesturing to an elevator. "I'm granting you a moment of it. Now, come."

He led me into a massive private study. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and a beautifully carved solid wood desk sat in the center.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the setting sun painted the New York skyline in shades of gold and red.

He wore a crisp white Italian shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing the hard, lean muscles of his forearms. My eyes lingered a second too long.

"Ahem."

A soft cough snapped me back. He was watching me, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Speak," he said simply. "You went to great lengths to get in here. What is it you want?"

"I need money," I said, getting straight to the point. "My father was framed and jailed. The bail is five million dollars. I know that's nothing to you."

He said nothing, just watched me quietly, as if assessing the value of an item for sale.

"And why should I help a stranger?"

This was it. The moment of truth.

I took a deep breath and slowly untied the belt of my trench coat.

My hands trembled as I untied the belt. The coat slid open, the scent of the oil wafting into the air, revealing the black lace lingerie beneath.

The cool air on so much bare skin made me shiver.

"I know what a man like you wants," I whispered, rising on my toes to get closer to his ear. "I'm clean. A virgin. Just save my father."

I could feel his body tense, hear his breath hitch.

"You can have me. All of me."

My heart was hammering against my ribs.

Dante grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him.

I thought he was going to kiss me.

Instead, he bent down, picked up the coat from the floor, and draped it back over my shoulders.

"I don't like artificial scents," he said, his voice cold. "And I don't trade in bodies."

Heat flooded my face. I was drowning in shame.

"I thought..."

"I don't need a woman who can be bought," he cut me off, his eyes laced with disappointment. "Especially not one who arrives gift-wrapped like a cheap delivery."

"You..."

"Listen to me, Juliana," he said, his fingers gripping my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "I have a daughter. I taught her to have pride. Dignity. I thought you were a woman of substance."

His words were a slap across my face.

He was right. I had turned myself into the very type of woman I despised.

He released me and pressed a button on his desk intercom. "Security, see our guest out."

Footsteps approached from behind. "Please escort Miss Rossi out," Dante said without turning around.

I bit my lip, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. "I'm sorry to have bothered you."

I turned and fled.

To earn the money, I took a job Sofia found for me at a VIP underground club. One owned by the Landini family.

"This job will definitely make you a lot of money. The tips from the clients here are insane," Sofia said, patting my shoulder.

I looked down at the uniform. A black miniskirt so tight it was suffocating and a top with a neckline so low it was an open invitation for men to undress me with their eyes.

But I had no choice. I needed the money.

"Get in there. Some high rollers just took the back booth," the manager said, shoving me forward.

I took a deep breath, held my tray steady, and pushed open the door to the smoke-filled booth.

When my eyes adjusted and I saw the face of the man sitting in the center, my blood ran cold.

Sitting on the sofa were Marco and several of his men.