Caught in His Web

Chapter 4: Caught in His Web

The next night, Isla returned to Inferno, her mask firmly in place.

But something had changed.

Dante had marked her as his next interest.

She could feel it in the way the staff eyed her with barely concealed curiosity, the way the men whispered about her sudden rise to his attention.

And the way Luca watched her like a hawk, his silent warning hanging between them.

She couldn’t afford to be distracted.

But distraction came in the form of Dante himself.

He was waiting for her the moment she stepped onto the club floor, lounging in his usual VIP section, a glass of whiskey in his hand, eyes dark with something unreadable.

Isla barely had time to take a breath before one of the other servers nudged her.

"Boss wants you tonight."

Her pulse spiked.

So, the game had begun.

With careful steps, she approached Dante’s table.

His gaze swept over her, slow and deliberate, as she placed his drink down.

"Sit."

A command, not a request.

She hesitated, just for a second.

Dante’s smirk widened, as if he enjoyed the challenge.

"Afraid, Bella?"

She met his stare, forcing a coy smile. "Should I be?"

He chuckled, motioning to the empty seat beside him. "That depends on how well you handle danger."

Every instinct screamed at her to walk away.

Instead, she slid into the seat, her posture relaxed despite the tension curling inside her.

Dante leaned in slightly, his scent—smoky cologne and whiskey—wrapping around her.

"You don’t belong here," he murmured, echoing Luca’s words.

She forced a smirk. "And yet, here I am."

His fingers traced the rim of his glass, his gaze never leaving hers. "Tell me something, Bella. Why Inferno? You could’ve worked anywhere."

Her heart pounded, but she gave a careless shrug. "The money’s good. The clientele tips well."

Dante hummed, studying her. "You don’t flinch when men touch you."

She stilled.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. "Most women working here expect it. They play along. But you…" He tilted his head. "You endure it."

Her fingers clenched against her thigh.

Was he testing her, or was this genuine curiosity?

Either way, she couldn’t afford to slip.

"Maybe I don’t like being touched by men I don’t choose," she said smoothly.

Something flickered in his eyes. Possession.

"Is that so?"

His hand lifted, and for the second time in two nights, he reached for her.

But this time, he didn’t touch her.

He let his fingers hover just above her skin, so close she could feel the heat radiating from him.

A silent challenge.

A power play.

Her breath caught, but she didn’t pull away.

She held his gaze, unflinching.

And then, slowly, deliberately, she tilted her chin up in defiance.

Dante’s smirk turned razor-sharp.

"Interesting," he murmured.

Then, as if the moment had never happened, he leaned back, taking a sip of his drink.

"You’ll serve only me from now on," he said casually.

Her stomach dropped.

This wasn’t good.

Being close to Dante meant danger. It meant scrutiny. It meant getting pulled into his world faster than she had planned.

She needed to protest.

But before she could, Luca appeared at the edge of the booth.

His gaze locked onto hers, sharp and unreadable. Then he turned to Dante.

"Antonio’s here."

Dante’s entire demeanor shifted.

The air around him thickened, darkened.

Isla forced herself to stay composed, even as her hands trembled under the table.

Antonio.

The man who had murdered her father.

She kept her face neutral, but inside, rage burned hot and uncontrollable.

Dante downed the rest of his drink and stood, his presence dominating the space.

He turned to her, his smirk returning.

"Stay here. Don’t move."

And just like that, he was gone.

Leaving Isla alone with the weight of her own fury.

Her moment was coming.

But first, she had to survive Dante DeLuca’s obsession.

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End of Chapter 4