เข้าสู่ระบบGianna’s POV
My mouth went dry as I backed away, each step slower than the last. Dante’s voice, deep and terrifying, sent a chill crawling down my spine. This wasn’t a nightmare I could wake up from. This was real. Dante De Luca, the monster who shot my father, was real. Flesh and blood. And I was alone in his home with no way out. There was only one path laid out for me: to be his mistress. For life. Terror pressed down on my chest. I couldn’t breathe. My lips trembled. “God help me,” I whispered, barely able to get the words out. “This can’t be my life. I can’t belong to this monster.” He tilted his head, amused. Then he laughed, cruelly. “No one’s coming to save you,” he mocked. The dark humor in his tone pierced through my chest, driving the panic deeper. The room seemed to tilt, everything fading around me. “I can’t be trapped here,” I muttered. “I refuse to be trapped here.” My breathing quickened, and it felt like my senses slipped away from me. “Help!” I screamed, eyes darting around the lavish living room until they landed on the massive steel door across the room. My adrenaline surged. That was it, the way out. I didn’t think, I just ran. I threw myself at the door, gripped the handle with both hands, and yanked hard. Nothing. “Help!” I screamed again, banging my fists against the metal. “Please! Anyone, please!” Suddenly a screen lit up on the wall beside the door, blinking cold blue text. To open, enter code. Dread crashed into me like a wave. I had no code. No way out. I was locked in. Behind me, I heard him laugh again. He sounded amused, like I was putting on a show just for him. “Little firecracker,” Dante murmured. “I thought you were smarter than that.” I spun around, breathing ragged, but he was already there, towering over me. “Surely you’ve figured it out by now,” he said, his tone colder than stone. “I own not just this building, but the entire estate. Even if by some miracle you got through that door, you wouldn’t make it ten steps. My men are stationed at every exit. You’d be dragged back to me, bleeding, if they’re feeling generous.” His eyes darkened as he stepped closer. I stepped back, one foot at a time, until my spine hit the steel door. His words made it clear, there was nowhere to run. I didn’t even know where I was or how to make it out. Still, what was I supposed to do? Just give in? I had to try. Who wouldn’t try to run from their father’s killer? I opened my mouth to scream again, but before a sound could escape, he grabbed me. His hand clamped over my mouth. “Strike one, little girl,” he hissed into my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Try that again, and I’ll punish you.” My blood boiled with fear and fury. I wasn’t a child. I wasn’t some pet he could threaten into obedience. Rage surged up and took over. So I bit him. Hard. He cursed under his breath and pulled back. I slipped from his grasp and stumbled away. “Let me out of here!” I cried. “I’m not interested in being your whore!” He looked at little bite mark on his palm, and fury overtook him. Before I could move again, he grabbed me and slammed me back against the door. The impact rattled through my bones. I gasped, but it turned into a choked whimper as his hand wrapped tight around my throat and lifted me off the ground. My feet dangled in the air. I clawed at his arm, kicking helplessly, lungs burning. “Little girl,” he growled, his eyes burning into mine, “I could end it all right now. I could squeeze the life from you and watch your body hit this floor, and not lose a single hour of sleep.” My vision blurred. My body trembled. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. “Please,” I rasped, voice barely a whisper. “Stop. I can’t breathe.” “Can’t you now?” he sneered, his grip loosening slightly. “And what exactly did you think, Gianna? That you could go against me and walk away?” I shook my head wildly, tears spilling down my cheeks. My limbs started to go numb. “I’m… I’m sorry,” I choked out. “It was a mistake. Just don’t kill me, please.” The look in his eyes softened, just for a moment. And then, slowly, he released his grip and let me down. My feet hit the ground shakily, knees threatening to give out beneath me as I gasped for air. Instinctively, my hand flew to my throat, coughing uncontrollably, each breath scraping against the pain circling there. A painful reminder of how close I’d come to losing it all. I didn’t even know what I’d been thinking. How could I have been so reckless? I didn’t want to see his face, not after feeling his fingers wrapped around my throat, squeezing the air out of me like I was nothing. A toy to be broken. A lesson to be taught. But then I felt his arms, warm and strong, wrap around me. And before I could flinch, he lifted me with a startling gentleness, as if none of it had just happened. I gasped again, stunned by the softness in his touch, but I knew better than to fight him now. I knew exactly what he was capable of. He walked across the massive living room with me cradled in his arms like a doll. Then he lowered me onto the velvet sofa carefully, as though I might break if he set me down too hard. Still not knowing what to make of this version of him, I crawled away from him, just a few inches, but he reached out, brushing my hair gently away from my face. His fingers trailed to my neck, slow and careful. His touch was soft, but it still made me tense. He examined the marks, fingertips grazing the skin he’d just tried to crush. “It’s just faintly bruised,” he said, his voice tender now. “I’ll get you something for it.” I simply nodded. I didn’t trust myself not to say something provoking, and I didn’t want to risk angering him again. Then he stepped back and looked at me with a coldness that made my blood run colder. “That was strike two,” he warned. “And by the third strike, you’ll regret you ever went against me.” My heart stilled. “You want to get punished, Gianna? Keep pushing.” It was the first time he had said my name out loud, and for some unexplainable reason, shivers raced down my spine at the way the last syllable rolled off his tongue. He rose without another word and crossed the room, pressing a button on a small control panel built into the wall. A few seconds later, the massive steel door swung open, and a woman walked in. She looked like she was in her forties, and she held a silver tray with a glass of water. “Here, young lady.” She offered the glass with a kind voice, though her eyes darted between me and Dante like she was scared for me. I blinked at her. How could someone who looked so decent, so normal, work for a man like this? Then I felt his gaze on me again. I slowly reached for the glass, my hand shaking. The woman gave me a quiet nod, then stepped back. She and Dante exchanged a single glance. Nothing was said, but she passed something to him that I couldn’t quite make out. And their mannerism told me everything I needed to know about their relationship. They’d probably worked together for a long time. Maybe she had seen worse. Maybe she was used to it. My dad had taught me how to read people’s body movements in one of the many lessons he put me through. Now I wished I had paid more attention when he spoke, but I had been too busy living a sheltered life, never knowing the day would come when I would be all alone. The glass shook in my hand as I stared down at the clear liquid. It looked normal, but I didn’t feel safe. My thoughts raced. What if it was drugged, or worse, poisoned?Gianna's POV Dante grabbed my wrist, yanking my hand away from his face. "Don't," his voice was rough. "Don't say forgive." A bitter, broken laugh slipped out. He stepped back, running both hands through his hair. "In this world, there’s no forgiveness. It’s blood for blood. Your father knew the rules the moment he pulled that trigger." His eyes burned with pain and anger. "As long as you carry his..." "Doesn't it matter to you that I'm suffering too?" I cried out. "That I'm paying for something I didn't do? Something I had no control over?" His face hardened, not fully, just a tiny shift he couldn’t hide, and I saw it. Real pain. Real conflict. Then it disappeared. "What matters to me," he groaned, his voice shaking, "is that my wife is gone. That I'll never see her again. Never hear her voice. Never..." He gritted his teeth, struggling with the words. "What matters is that my daughter will grow up without her mother. That every milestone, every birthday, every moment, her mot
Gianna's POV I couldn't breathe. I sat on the edge of the bed with my hands shaking and my chest tight, like someone was squeezing every bit of air out of my lungs. The dining room kept replaying in my head. Murderer. That is what Selene called me. The rage on her face when she looked at me, the pure hatred in her eyes. She came for me like she wanted to tear me apart with her bare hands. If Dante had not grabbed her, she would have reached me. And God, Arielle. The way every bit of warmth from earlier vanished as tears ran down her face. I felt like I destroyed her whole world just by being in the room. My father. God. My father. Finding out he was mafia was already enough to break me. Knowing he hurt people, threatened them, ruined lives. But killing someone’s wife? Killing someone’s mother? Tearing apart a family like it meant nothing? I did not know what kind of monster did that. And I did not know how to live with the fact that his blood was in my veins. I wished that wa
Dante’s POV I made my voice calm, even though inside I was furious at Selene for ruining everything. For exposing all of this in such a manner, especially in front of Gianna. "I understand you're upset. You have every right to be angry about Esme." My voice came out level, controlled. "But you need to understand your place in this house, Selene. You're my sister-in-law. That is it. I make the decisions as head of this family. No one, not even you, has the right to question me or my choices.” Bruno hovered nearby, waiting for my order. I jerked my chin at him. “Take her to her room.” Bruno moved toward her, hands out to grab her, but Selene jerked away, breathing hard. “You disgust me.” Her voice dripped with hate. "I cannot stand to look at you. My sister would be rolling in her grave at your betrayal.” Bruno reached for her again. Selene slapped his hand away and began moving. “Don’t touch me. I can walk.” But as she moved past the table, she swept her arm across it in rage
Dante's POVLove.A word I had not thought about in years. A concept I had buried alongside Esme. An emotion I had convinced myself I was incapable of feeling again.Gianna looked up at me from across the table, and for a second it felt like everything around us faded. A charged moment passed between us, filled with everything we were not saying.I cleared my throat. My voice came out rough."We have, intense feelings for each other."Safe enough. Not a lie, but not the whole truth either.She cleared her throat and set her wine glass down, her fingers trembling slightly even though she tried to hide it. Her eyes slid toward Arielle, then back to me. She looked nervous, unsure if she should speak.“You are, your dad is right,” she began, her voice soft. “We, um…”Before she could finish, Selene’s voice cut through the moment.She said it under her breath, but everyone at the table heard it.Arielle turned to her aunt, her brows pulling together.“Aunt Selene, why would you say that?”
Dante's POV"Language!" I roared, slamming my hand on the table. The glasses rattled, wine sloshed close to the rims. Several maids jumped back."Not in front of Arielle. Not ever. Have you lost your mind?"I stepped forward, towering over Selene, authority and anger radiating from every inch of me."You will stop this madness immediately, or I will see to it that you’re escorted to your room until you can cool off and speak like a rational adult instead of a screaming child."Suddenly, I felt Gianna’s warm hand wrap around my arm, holding me back before I did something I would regret."Dante... if this is too much for your family to handle, maybe I should give you all some space to… ""No."I turned to her, cupping her face with both hands, forcing her to look at me. To see that I meant every single word."You’re not leaving."Then I faced Selene, my gaze ice-cold. "You will sit, and we will all have dinner as a family. If anyone has to leave, it will be you." I let my glare burn int
Dante’s POV Arielle’s eyes lit up as she took in the dining table. The spread was an array of exquisite dishes, prepared by the top chef I’d invited, succulent roasted meats, delicate seafood, colorful vegetables, freshly baked bread, and desserts. “Dad, you seriously outdid yourself. This is a royal welcome!” Arielle reached for a bread roll, grinning from ear to ear. “Are we celebrating something? Or is this your way of saying you missed us that much?” Selene smirked from across the table, lifting her glass. "He must have. Look at this spread, Dante. You really went all out. I almost thought we were dining with the Pope.” A small laugh escaped me, but it felt hollow in my chest. They had no idea what storm was about to break over this table. "I'm glad to have you both here." I cleared my throat, reaching across to squeeze Arielle's hand. My daughter's hand, so small in mine, yet so strong. "Having my daughter in this home again, after everything we've been through, it means mor







