Chapter 6: Crescendo of Control

TORI

The car slowed, rolling up to the massive gates of Dante’s estate. A fortress. Tall walls loomed, guards posted at every corner, armed and alert. My stomach twisted as the gate buzzed and slid open.

I knew this kind of place too well. Opulent prisons wrapped in gold and silence. I had grown up in one. Power disguised as elegance. Secrets hiding behind every smile. Men who treated control like currency.

Dante wasn’t just a CEO. He was something worse. Something familiar.

The gates ahead loomed like the mouth of a beast, swallowing the world beyond. Tall, imposing, unyielding. My chest tightened as I watched the guards, their weapons visible, their faces unreadable. It wasn’t a home. It was a fortress.

I could feel the air thick with power, cold, sharp, and suffocating. Not the kind of power that celebrates triumph, but the kind that crushes those who step out of line. The kind that hides secrets behind stone and steel. Secrets I was now a part of.

Is he like my father? Have they worked together? Do they sit in the same rooms, trading lives for leverage?

My stomach churned. God, am I leverage?

It was a question that chilled me to the bone. My hands tightened around Mr. Buttons, his soft, reassuring warmth the only thing keeping me tethered to something human. Something real.

Beside me, Dante didn’t say a word. His silence stretched thick between us, heavy and unrelenting. That stare of his pinned me in place against the leather seat, cool, clinical, assessing. 

The car eased to a stop. The door flung open, and Dante’s grip tightened around my arm.

“Get out.”

His touch burned hot against my skin as he dragged me into the open air. My feet stumbled, but I caught myself, my breath uneven as I tried to keep up.

My heart slammed against my ribs as I found my balance. Off to the side, tucked away from the mansion, sat a smaller building. Elegant lines, pristine windows. Separate.

“Move.”

He didn’t look back. Just walked forward, each step confident, calculated. At the entrance, he pressed his thumb to a scanner. A soft click echoed as the door slid open, wide and soundless.

I stepped inside, the air sharp with chilled marble and control. Behind us, the door sealed shut, locks sliding into place with a finality that made my skin crawl.

Every step felt like a misstep, the walls closing in around me. I glanced up, eyes darting to the corners where cameras blinked, watching my every move.

And then there was Dante. His presence, heavy and imposing, made the air feel thick, suffocating. His silence wasn’t just quiet; it was oppressive. He studied me, dissecting me in ways I couldn’t understand.

His grip remained unyielding as he pulled me deeper into the guesthouse, further into his domain. I fought the urge to look back, to search for an escape, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. There was none.

The marble floors stretched beneath us, each piece flawless. Furniture stood with surgical precision. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, but their glow felt cold, sterile.

This wasn’t a home. It was a cage dressed in luxury.

Cameras blinked in the corners. Motion sensors nestled beneath window frames. The doors bore no handles, only touchpads I didn’t know how to use and never would. Gold trim softened the bedroom walls, but I wasn’t fooled.

I wasn’t a guest. I was a prisoner.

Dante shoved me forward and finally let go. “This is where you stay. What you receive, food, clothes, anything, depends on your behavior. You’re under surveillance. Escape isn’t possible.”

I clutched my bag tighter, as if it could protect me. As if anything could.

His eyes narrowed. “Give it to me.”

I took a step back. “You can’t take my things.”

His jaw tightened. “Watch me.”

His hands moved faster than I could react, ripping the bag from my grasp. The force of it made my pulse race. This wasn’t just an argument; it was a statement of power.

I backed up, heart pounding, every nerve screaming to run, but I knew I couldn’t. Not from him. Not from this. “You have no right—”

Before I could finish, his hand slammed into my chest, shoving me back against the wall. My breath left me in a sharp gasp, my head spinning from the impact. 

I blinked, vision blurring. He didn’t give me a chance to recover. His body pressed against mine, his strength overpowering. The fear in my chest spiraled, suffocating me.

“You better behave,” he murmured, his voice soft but cold, a promise wrapped in threat. “I have no problem hurting you.”

I jerked, adrenaline surging, pushing back as best as I could. But every time I moved, he was there, pulling me right back, his grip tightening like a vice.

Panic flooded me. I jerked sideways, twisting free for a heartbeat. My fist flew, more instinct than thought. Knuckles connected with his jaw, the shock of impact reverberating up my arm. His head snapped, and I drove my knee forward, hard.

A sharp curse tore from him as he doubled over.

I stood frozen, shaking, the weight of what I’d just done crashing into me. There was no plan. No escape route. Just the echo of instinct and the hollow rush of adrenaline already turning to dread.

What did I think would happen? That he’d fall and stay down? That I’d get out?

He stilled.

Then he lunged.

His weight barreled into me. I hit the sofa, spine rattling as the cushions gave beneath us. He pressed me down, every inch of him locking me in place. 

My wrists jerked above my head, one hand pinning them easily while the other braced beside my face.

“Stop resisting.”

His breath burned against my cheek. I flinched, but he didn’t back off.

“You made a mistake,” he said, voice low and sharp. “I’ve killed for less.”

His hand caught my chin and forced it up. His eyes locked on mine, cold and relentless.

“Accept your defeat.”

My chest rose and fell, quick and uneven, pressed tight against his. Fear climbed my throat, thick and hot, but something else tangled with it. Something I didn’t want to name.

His hand slid down, fingers brushing my side before tightening around my hip. Firm. Possessive. I went rigid. The press of him, solid and unmistakable, settled at the junction of my sex and sent ice through me.

I gasped, terror detonating in my chest.

Dante’s mouth curled into something cruel. “I think I found the best way to subdue you.” His voice dropped, thick with menace. “You feel it, don’t you?”

I couldn’t stop shaking. My body betrayed me, caught between rage and fear.

“Get off me,” I snapped. My voice wavered, but I forced it out. I squirmed, trying to shift him off me, only making it worse for me.

Dante’s eyes squeezed shut. His breath hitched. “Stop squirming.” He sounded strained. His hands gripped harder, holding me still.

I sucked in air, confusion cutting through the fear. Was he… in pain?

His eyes snapped open.

“You humiliated me. Publicly.” Each word dripped with venom. “I should strip you bare, take you right here, and break you in. Maybe then you’ll understand what happens when someone crosses me.”

My stomach turned. Tears slipped free before I could stop them.

“P-please,” I whispered. “Don’t… don’t rape me.”

Everything stopped.

The smirk vanished. His entire body went still.