The Devil’s Bargain

“The Devil’s greatest trick isn’t making you sin—it’s making you crave it.”

The ride home was a blur. I sat at the back of the car, and watched as the city lights flickered past us. All I could think of was Dante Romano. The Devil. His touch still burned on my skin. I could still hear him “You’re mine...” as if I belong to no one. No, I’m not his. I’ll never be his. But my body is saying otherwise, the memory of his hands on me and his lips against my neck sent a shiver down my spine straight to my pussy. I am so pissed which is why I didn’t even notice we were already at home. The car pulled up to the Moretti estate. Yes, I live in a mansion that feels more like a fancy cage.

I stepped out, my heels clicking against the marble steps as I made my way inside. The house was quiet, the only sound was the soft hum of the chandelier above. I made my way to my room, my sanctuary. I was hit with fresh smell of roses thanks to the fresh bouquet on my nightstand. I’ve always loved roses that’s why I have a little garden downstairs specifically for that purpose. I kicked off my stilettos and collapsed onto the bed, my mind still racing. I slammed my bedroom door so hard. My fingers trembled as I ripped off my earrings. The memory of Dante’s smirk burning my eyelids. Bastard. Arrogant, controlling bastard.  My phone buzzed. Amara: Answer. Now. I saw you in the garden.

I groaned and flopped onto my bed; the silk sheets cool against my flushed skin. I hit call. Amara’s voice exploded through the speaker. “What the hell was that?”

“What was what?” I muttered, staring at the rose-patterned ceiling.

“You and Dante? How did that happen? Since when?”

I groaned. “Since never. He’s just…”

“Just what? Molten sex in a suit? A walking red flag you want to wave?”

“He is a cocky bastard. I hate him.”

“Hate him so much you let him pin you to a gazebo?”

“You saw that?” 

“You bet your ass I did!

Amara snorted. “How’d he taste?”

“Like arrogance and expensive scotch”

“Damn.”

“So, what about Mhino? He’d be pissed if he finds out”

I said rolling my eyes” I honestly couldn’t care less. And it’s not as if he doesn’t work for Dante”

We talked for a while longer, our conversation shifting to lighter topics. Amare complained about her stepfather who’d been nagging her about finding a husband. “He is obsessed with marrying me off to some rich old guy like I’m sone kind of bargaining chip.”

“Sounds familiar” I said dryly.

“At least your dad actually loves you” Amara sounded bitter but can I blame her. “Mine barely remembers I exist unless it’s to remind me how little I’ll inherit” My heart ached for my friend. Amara’s mum had remarried after her father’s death, and her new husband had brought two sons into the family. Amara had always been an afterthought, her inheritance dwindling with each passing year.

“You’ll find your way,” I said softly. “You’re stronger than you think.”

“Thanks, soph,” Amara said “But enough about me what are you going to do about Dante?”

“There’s absolutely nothing to do yesterday was a one tome meeting and it will never happen again”

“Boys are stupid!” Ella announced, storming into my room. Amara laughed “Trouble in middle school paradise?” Ella threw herself onto the bed. “Shut up, Amara! Soph Mateo asked me to the dance then turned around to tell his friends it’s because he felt sorry for me and that I smelled like pasta!” I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing. “Do you…smell like pasta?”

“NO!!”

Amara wheezed. ‘Maybe he’s into carb based compliments?”

Ella threw a pillow at my head “I hate you both!”

We talked for a while, Ella’s chatter a welcome distraction. But eventually, Mom appeared in the doorway, her expression soft but weary. 

“Ella, it’s late. Let your sister rest,” she said gently. 

Ella pouted but obeyed, giving me a quick hug before disappearing down the hall. “You too, Amara. Goodnight,” I called out, ending the call with a sigh. 

Mom stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. “How are you, my love?” 

I sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “I don’t know, Mama. Everything feels… complicated.” 

She sat on the edge of the bed, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Life is complicated, my darling. But you are strong. You will find your way.” 

“I don’t feel strong,” I admitted. “I feel… trapped.” 

Her eyes filled with understanding. “I know. But sometimes, duty requires us to make sacrifices. Your father… he loves you. He only wants what’s best for you.” 

“Does he?” I asked, my voice bitter. “Or does he just want what’s best for the family name?” 

She sighed. “It’s not so simple, Sophia. In our world, the two are often the same. Your father has worked hard to protect us, to give us this life. Sometimes, that means making difficult choices.” 

“But what about what I want?” I asked, my voice breaking. “What about my choices?” 

She cupped my face, her touch gentle. “My darling, I wish I could tell you that life is fair. That you could have everything you want. But the truth is, we don’t always get to choose. What we *can* choose is how we face the challenges before us. And you, my love, are stronger than you know.” 

My eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want to be strong. I just want to be free.” 

She pulled me into a hug, her embrace warm and comforting. “I know, my love. I know.” 

We sat like that for a while, the silence between us filled with unspoken words. Finally, she kissed my forehead and stood. “Get some rest, Sophia. Tomorrow is a new day.” 

When she left, I lay back on the bed, my mind swirling with thoughts of Dante, my father, and the life I felt slipping through my fingers. 

And then, unbidden, the memory of Dante’s touch returned. His hands on my skin, his lips against my neck. The way he’d made me feel—angry, defiant, but also… alive. 

I could remember the smell of his cologne invading my senses. Then my imagination took hold…he closed the gap between us and his hand traced my cheek then draped down to my breasts through my dress. His hand slid further down. He lifted the hem of my dress and let his hands slip under and trail over my bare skin.

  I closed my eyes and let the fantasy play out in my head as I slipped my fingers beneath my lace panties, mimicking his gesture in my fantasy. I felt his warm hand find refuge as he slipped his fingers inside me. My pelvis pushed closer to him feeling his engorged self beneath his dress pants. I was growing hotter and wetter as I unbuttoned his shirt. My hand ran over his exposed muscular chest. He rushed to kiss me and drew his fingers deeper inside me. He pulled them out, and then moved them deeper within me. He moved them back out then moved to my clit.

  My fingers in my dark room mimicked his and encircled my clit. The more I stroked, the more I desired him. I let the thoughts of his forbidden body flood into my head.

  “Just feel, don’t think.” And that was just what I was doing. I felt him unzip his pants. I felt him lift me up over him and pull my panties to the side. I felt his engorged penis enter into me. I looked into his emerald green eyes and felt his smile on my lips as he kissed me and then ground deeper into me. I closed my eyes and let him thrust and grind into me. God, it was heaven. He swiveled his hips drawing out, then in, out, then in. Soon my legs were burning and I was about to fall over the edge.

  “That’s it, Bella. Let go, baby,” he breathed in my ear and that was my undoing. My body convulsed around him sending white stars to my periphery as he let go inside of me. Then he disappeared from my fantasy and I was left alone, breathing heavily in my dark bedroom, wishing I could have more of Dante Romano.

The next morning, I woke up to sunlight streaming through my sheer curtains. The house was eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that made my skin prickle. I dressed quickly, pulling on a simple silk robe, and made my way downstairs. 

Breakfast was tense. Dad’s chair was empty, and Mom sat stiffly at the head of the table, her coffee untouched. The staff moved strangely their usual chatter replaced by hushed whispers. Ella, oblivious as ever, chattered about her school project, but even her energy felt out of place. 

“Where’s Dad?” I asked, breaking the silence. 

Mom’s eyes flicked to mine, then away. “He’s… busy. Don’t worry about it.” 

I didn’t believe her. Something was wrong. 

After breakfast, I slipped away to Dad’s study. The door was slightly ajar, and I could hear voices inside Dad’s, low and pleading, and another, cold and commanding.  Dante. 

I froze, my hand hovering over the doorknob. 

“Please, Don Romano,” Dad said, his voice trembling. “I’ll do anything. Just… just spare my family.” 

“You should’ve thought of that before you betrayed me. I’ll have the girl,” Dante replied, his tone like ice. 

Before I could process what I’d just heard, the door swung open. Dante stood there, his dark eyes locking onto mine. A slow, predatory smile spread across his face.  “Hello, Bella.