Chapter 4: A Devil's Appetite.

Dante's POV,

The last gulp of bourbon slid down my throat like liquid fire, the burn settling deep in my chest. I let it linger there a moment before slamming the glass onto the mahogany desk. The knock came again...sharp, impatient.

"Come in," I muttered, still facing the massive floor to ceiling window that overlooked the city.

Boots clicked against the marble floor. My personal guard stepped in, broad-shouldered, hands clasped neatly behind his back like the disciplined soldier he was.

“She’s here,” he said, voice low, controlled.

A slow smirk pulled at my lips. “I knew she’d come back.”

The guard cleared his throat. “It’s not Bianca, sir.”

My smirk froze, then fell. I turned sharply. “Then who the hell is it?”

His expression barely shifted. “Betty. Betty Mordecai.”

My jaw tightened, not with fear, never with fear, but with pure disappointment. That woman was like a stubborn stain I couldn’t scrub out.

“What is she doing here now?” I asked, the words ground out between my teeth.

He barely got a syllable out before the door flung open without so much as a knock.

Betty Mordecai, the daughter of the great Mafia, Mordecai, strode in like she owned the place, hips swaying, her dress screaming wealth and bad intentions. It wasn’t just the cut of the silk that clung to her curves, it was the way she wore it, like she was daring you to say you couldn’t afford her.

Her eyes glittered with mischief as she flicked her hair over one shoulder. “Get out,” she ordered my guard without even looking at him.

He glanced at me. I waved him off.

She closed the distance between us with that lazy predator’s grace, her manicured fingers sliding along my jaw.

“I thought you were on vacation,” I said flatly.

“Decided to come check up on you,” she purred, “and get a little of your cock before I leave.”

I exhaled sharply through my nose, somewhere between a laugh and a growl. “Betty, you need to get over your obsession with me.”

She tilted her head, lips curling. “You should mind how you talk to me. I’m the reason my father’s been so soft on you.”

I laughed..a dark, mocking sound. “Go ahead. Tell Daddy. See if I care. But we both know you need me more than I need you.”

She crossed her arms, feigning insult before leaning in. “I’m not threatening you, Dante. I’m just… reminding you.”

“Does Mordecai know his precious daughter is obsessed with the dick of a low mafia?” I asked, smirking.

Her face twitched. “Why would you say it like that?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

She huffed but her eyes stayed locked on me. “I came because I actually need you.”

I poured her a drink, deliberately slow. “See? Not lying when I say you’re obsessed.”

By the time I turned back, her dress was pooled on the floor, her bra tossed onto the sofa, her breasts bare and unapologetic.

I grinned, every wicked thought in my head sharpening. I stepped forward, tilting the glass so the red wine trickled into her open mouth. It overflowed, running down her chin and dripping onto the swell of her breast.

I bent, dragging my tongue along the wet trail, tasting both her and the wine.

Her lips parted in a gasp.

I didn’t say a word..just turned and motioned to my guards. “Record this.”

She blinked at me. “Why?”

“So I can watch it when you’re gone,” I lied smoothly.

She smirked like a fool who thought she was in control.

In one swift motion, I shoved her back onto the bed. The headboard rattled against the wall. My hand dipped into the drawer of my nightstand, pulling out the cold steel of handcuffs.

Her wrists were small in my grip as I snapped them shut, the sound echoing in the room. I hooked the chain to the bedframe, leaving her sprawled, helpless.

I didn’t undress gently. I ripped the rest of her lingerie down the seams, exposing flushed skin that rose and fell with shallow breaths.

My belt buckle clinked as I loosened it, my gaze never leaving her. “You’re going to beg, Betty.”

Her hips shifted against the sheets. “You wish.”

“Hands,” i said, my voice deep and controlled.

She lifted them, trembling, and felt the smooth leather wrap around her wrists. I fastened the cuffs with a practiced precision, then tugged,firm, but not cruel..pulling her closer.

“I own every second you give me,” I murmured, brushing my thumb along her jaw. “And you’re giving me everything.”

My touch was a contradiction, warm palms sliding over her arms, only to follow with a sudden, sharp grip on her waist. I guided her to the bed, pressing her gently but irresistibly onto the sheets.

A silk blindfold fell over her eyes. Darkness swallowed her, heightening every sound,the whisper of fabric, the creak of the mattress, the faint exhale as i moved around her.

She felt the cold kiss of metal as a chain slid between her wrists, tethering her to the headboard.

“Feel that?” My breath grazed her ear. “That’s control. Mine… over you.”

My fingers traced down her side, slow and maddening, making her arch instinctively. Every brush of skin, every pause, felt calculated to unravel her.

Her breathing turned ragged, her body hyper aware of my proximity. I toyed with her senses, featherlight touches followed by firm holds, a warm palm replaced by the teasing graze of silk against her throat.

“You don’t need to see me,” I said, voice low and intoxicating. “You’ll feel me. Everywhere.”

Her lips parted, but before words could escape, my finger pressed gently against them, silencing her.

“Good girl,” I whispered.

I pushed her legs apart, fingers gripping the insides of her thighs so tight she gasped. I teased her entrance with the blunt head of my cock, slow, deliberate, until she cursed under her breath.

“Say you want it,” I murmured, my voice low, dark.

She glared. I thrust hard, burying myself deep without warning. Her gasp tore through the air.

I moved in hard, relentless strokes, the slap of skin-on-skin filling the room. She moaned louder, and I shoved two fingers into her mouth.

“Quiet,” I ordered. “Or I’ll stop.”

Her tongue swirled over my fingers, moaning around them as her wrists pulled against the cuffs.

I kept going, faster, deeper, each thrust pressing her into the mattress. She arched, the chains clinking, her body trembling.

Then, soft footsteps near the door. My guard appeared, leaning in to whisper in my ear. A folded piece of paper pressed into my palm.

Still buried inside her, I tore it open.

"One year later, we cleared each other’s air. Contract signed. Your rival, Bianca Caruso."

I stopped moving entirely.

Betty’s eyes snapped open. “What the hell?”

I chuckled darkly, pulling out and stepping back. “Fun’s over.”

She sat up, disbelief and fury twisting her features. “You... you throw me away like I’m nothing?”

“What’s your gender?” I asked.

She blinked. “What?”

“Woman.”

“Yes...”

“That explains it.” I smirked. “I treat you however I want.”

The guards laughed quietly.

Her pride was bleeding, but she still managed to whisper as she adjusted her dress, “Be careful, Dante. Women aren’t to be played with. Remember, it was a woman who sent your father to an early grave.”

My fingers twitched, but I didn’t touch her. Instead, I hugged her like a man playing a role. “Go on your vacation, Betty. I’ll send you nudes.”

She kissed my cheek and left, the door clicking shut behind her.

I turned to my guards, my smile fading into something sharp and dangerous. “Bianca left a contact?”

One handed me a number. I dialed.

She picked up after one ring. “Calling me already? Isn’t that a bit forward for a man with an ego like yours?”

I leaned back in my chair. “After a night with me, you’ll be the one dialing my number, sweetheart.”

She hung up.

I stared at the screen for a long moment, then looked at my men. “Never fall for a woman. They’ll ruin your masculinity and laugh while doing it.”

They applauded like it was gospel.

I extended my hand. “The video.”

The guard placed the phone in my palm. I scrolled, found the part where Betty’s head was thrown back in pleasure, and hit send, straight to Bianca.

The caption: "A tip of how I’ll eat you out."

My grin was pure predator.