The Devil's Gambit

Flashback

Age 12

The first rule of survival: Never let them see you bleed.

The warehouse reeked of gasoline and piss. My father knelt on the concrete floor, blood dripping from his split lip. The men circled him like hyenas, their laughter sharp and cruel. One pressed a cigar to my cheek. The burn seared deeper than the blade they’d used on him.

“Remember this, boy,” the capo sneered, blowing smoke in my face. “Weakness gets you killed. Loyalty gets you nothing. Power?” He grinned, gold teeth glinting. “Power is the only god here.”

My father met my eyes one last time. “Run, Dante.”

I didn’t. I watched them slit his throat.

When the blood pooled at my knees, I swore I’d become the god they feared.

Present

Enzo, my consigliere, materialized at my shoulder. “Their debt’s worse than we thought. The father’s bleeding money. Gambling. Stupid.”

“Stupidity’s a luxury,” I said, swirling my bourbon. “One he’ll pay for.”

I had come to this pathetic excuse for an event because Moretti the man who had spent years licking my father’s boots before sinking a knife into his back was in more debt than he could claw his way out of. The moment I stepped into the grand hall, I knew what this was. A last-ditch effort to secure favor, to scrape together whatever little dignity he had left before I crushed him completely.

I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

My gaze drifted through the crowd, landing on her in the garden. Sophia Moretti.

She stood in the garden, a storm in a silk dress. She was radiant. Furious. Not the simpering doll I’d expected. No. She She was different. Not in the way women liked to believe they were different, but truly. She had the kind of presence that demanded attention, not through words but through sheer existence.

And then she had the nerve to look at me like I was beneath her.I had to put her in her place

Enzo followed my stare. “That’s the daughter?”

“Mm. “ gaze still locked on her "You want her."

I didn’t reply.

Want was a simple word. This wasn’t want. This was inevitability.

didn’t approach her right away.

I watched first. I learned.

She was engaged to a man unworthy of her. Mihno, I heard someone say. The idiot clearly thought he owned her, gripping her wrist a little too tightly, sneering when she dared to talk back. It was laughable, really. He had no idea that his hold on her was nothing more than a fragile illusion.

She wasn’t his.

She had never been his.

Amara, the best friend, was worse.

I hadn’t intended to pay attention to her, but when I overheard her whispering poison into Mihno’s ear, I found myself entertained by how little loyalty people actually had. She spoke of Sofia like she was nothing more than an inconvenience, a woman too spoiled to appreciate what she had.

I could see the resentment in her eyes. The jealousy. The desire to have what belonged to another.

Pathetic.

Enzo nudged me. "This is a dangerous game, fratello."

I smirked. "What game?"

"The one where you take something just because you can."

I turned to him, my expression blank. "This isn’t just because I can."

Enzo exhaled, shaking his head, but he said nothing more.

He didn’t need to. He knew me better than anyone. Knew that once I set my sights on something, I didn’t stop until it was mine.

And Sofia Moretti would be mine

I didn’t approach her right away.

I watched first. I learned.

She stared into the dark, her profile sharp as a blade. I memorized the way her throat moved when she swallowed, the flutter of her pulse, the way her hips tilted just slightly when she shifted her weight. Fuck. She was a symphony of tells, every breath a note I could play. She tore petals from a rose, her movements sharp, deliberate, like she was punishing the flower for existing.

A lesser man would’ve rushed in, desperate to claim her. But I wasn’t a lesser man and I don't rush, I waited and calculated.

Finally, I stepped into the light.

“You’re wasting perfectly good roses,” I said, my voice cutting through the silence.

She spun, her eyes narrowing. “What do you want?” in that sexy voice I would make scream my name.

“A dance.”

She snorted. “I don’t dance with strangers.”

“We’re not strangers, bella.” I stepped closer, my shadow swallowing hers. “We had a little heart to heart, remember?”

“And I told you to go to hell.”

“I’m already there.” I held out a hand. “Dance with me.”

She stared at my hand like it was a snake. “Why?”

“Because I asked nicely.”

"Once again, go to hell"

I smirked. "Just this once bella"

“Fine,” she said, placing her hand in mine. “But if you step on my feet, I’ll break your nose.”

“Noted.”

I pulled her into the garden’s clearing, where the moonlight painted the ground silver. There was no music, just the distant hum of the orchestra and the rustle of leaves in the wind. She fit perfectly in my arms, her body tense but pliant, like she was fighting the urge to lean into me.

“You’re good at this,” she said, her tone laced with suspicion.

“I’ve had practice.”

“With how many women?”

“Enough to know you’re the only one who’s tried to slap me.”

She smirked. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

We moved in silence for a moment, her steps matching mine effortlessly. She was a natural, her body swaying with a grace that made my blood hum.

“Why are you really here?” she asked, breaking the quiet.

“I told you. A dance.”

“Bullshit.”

I spun her, her dress flaring like a flame. “You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth.”

“Smart girl.” I pulled her closer, my hand sliding lower on her back. “But I’m not here to lie to you.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You.”

Her pulse fluttered under my thumb I spun her again, slower this time, letting my body press against hers. She sucked in a breath, her hips brushing mine. I hardened instantly,

She stumbled, her breath catching. “What?”

I steadied her, my grip tightening. “You heard me.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.” I tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. “I know you hate this life. I know you’re smarter than the men around you. And I know you’re too damn stubborn to admit you want out.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

“I can give you that,” I said, my voice low. “Freedom. Power. A chance to burn it all down.”

She shook her head. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe.” I brushed a strand of hair from her face. “But I’m also the only one who can save you.”

She laughed, the sound bitter. “Save me? From what? My fiancé? My father? Or you?”

“All of the above.”

She tried to pull away, but I held her firm. “Let me go.”

“Not yet.” I leaned in, my lips grazing her ear. “You’re mine, Sophia. Whether you like it or not.”

She shivered, her body betraying her. “I’ll never be yours.”

“You already are.”

I kissed her.

“Dante…”

She tried to pull away, but I held her firm. “Let me go.”

“Not yet.” I dipped her low, my mouth hovering over hers. “You’re mine, Sophia. Whether you like it or not.”

Her lips parted, a soft gasp escaping. I kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle. It was a battle clashing teeth, nails digging into my neck. She fought, but her body arched into mine, her lips parting with a gasp. I groaned, deepening the kiss, my hand sliding to her thigh.

“Still hate me, bella?” I murmured against her lips.

“Y-Yes.”

“Liar.”

I cupped her, my thumb circling her clit through the thin fabric of her dress. She gasped, her body trembling.

She moaned, her nails now in my hair. I pressed harder, feeling her pulse beneath my fingers. “You’re so wet for me,” I growled, my voice rough with need. “Admit it.”

“Never.”

I spun her, pinning her against the gazebo. Her chest heaved, her eyes dark with desire and defiance. “You want me,” I said, my hand sliding under her dress. “Say it.”

She bit her lip, her hips bucking against my touch. “I hate you.”

“Liar.”

I slipped a finger inside her, her heat pulsing around me. She cried out, her head falling back. “Dante…”

“Say you want me .”

She came with a shudder, her body trembling against mine. I kissed her neck, tasting salt and sin. “You’re mine, Sophia. And soon enough, the world will know it.”

.....

I left sofia in the garden, her breath still ragged and her body trembling. As I walked back into the ballroom, now to find the bitch man I am going to make suffer her dad.

Antonio Moretti wasn’t hard to spot. He stood near the bar, laughing too loudly at some poor fool’s joke, his face flushed with alcohol and false confidence. He hadn’t noticed me yet, too busy basking in the illusion of safety.

I approached him slowly, my presence like a shadow. He didn’t see me until I was standing right in front of him.

“Antonio,” I said, my voice smooth but with an edge.

He jumped, spilling whiskey down his front. “Don Romano! What an honor!”

I didn’t smile. “Enjoying the party?”

“Y-Yes, of course!” He laughed nervously, his eyes darting to Enzo, who stood silently at my side. “Your generosity is… overwhelming.”

“Generosity? you flatter me ,” I smile, “This is just a social call that I happen to be free to attend. And speaking of …” I leaned in slightly, my voice dropping to a whisper. “I hear the Russians have been… generous lately.”

'Really?" he said confusingly.

I chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder like we were old friends. “Relax, Antonio. It was a joke. You know how it is rumors, gossip, all that nonsense. Well you really are getting old if you don't catch up with gossip .”

He laughed too loudly, his relief palpable. “Of course, Don Romano! Just rumors!”

“Of course,” I said, my tone light but my eyes cold. “But you know how I feel about rumors. Best to clear them up sooner rather than later.”

He nodded frantically. “Absolutely. Whatever you need.”

“Good.” I straightened, my expression unreadable. “We’ll discuss it tomorrow. My house. Don’t be late.”

“Of course, Don Romano. Whatever you say.

I looked toward the garden, where Sophia stood. “Introduce me to your daughter.”

His eyes widened. “My daughter?”

“Sophia,” I said, her name rolling off my tongue like a promise. “We’ve meet briefly before. But I’d like a formal introduction.”

“Yes, of course.”

He waved over his youngest daughter, Ella, who had been hovering nearby. “Ella, darling, fetch your sister, would you? Tell her Don Romano would like to meet her. ”Ella nodded, her eyes wide with curiosity, and scurried off toward the garden.

Antonio turned back to me, his chest puffing with pride. “Sophia’s quite the woman, Don Romano. Smart, beautiful, accomplished. She’s the pride of the Moretti family.”

“Is she now?” I said, my tone neutral but my eyes sharp.

“Oh, yes! Top of her class, fluent in three languages, and a gifted pianist. She’s… she’s everything a father could hope for.”

“Sounds like you’re quite proud of her,” I said, my voice smooth but laced with menace.

“I am,” he said, his smile genuine for the first time that night. “She’s my legacy.”

“Legacies can be fragile things,” I said, my tone almost conversational. “One wrong move, and they can shatter.”

He laughed nervously, not quite catching the edge in my voice. “Yes, well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Let’s,” I said, my smile cold.

Sophia appeared then, her eyes narrowed as she approached. “What now?”

“Sophia, this is Don Dante Romano,” Antonio said, his tone pleading. “Show some respect.”

She didn’t curtsy. Didn’t bow. “Bastard,” she muttered under her breath.

I smirked. “Bella.”

Antonio choked. “A-Apologies, Don Romano. She’s… spirited.”

“I’ve noticed,” I said, my gaze never leaving hers.

Sophia crossed her arms, her defiance like a shield. “What do you want?”

“A proper introduction,” I said, my tone calm but firm. “Your father seems to think we should know each other.”

She glared at him. “Why? What did you do now?”

Antonio flinched. “Sophia, please...”

“It’s fine,” I said, cutting him off. “We’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I turned to Antonio, my voice low and menacing. “Tomorrow. Don’t forget.”

He nodded, his face ashen.

I leaned down to whisper in Sophia’s ear, my breath warm against her skin. “And you… I’ll see you soon, bella possibly in my bed showing me the kinds of sounds that mouth can make.” She shivered, her body betraying her.

I walked away, Enzo falling into step beside me.

As we moved through the crowd, Enzo glanced at me. “You’re really going through with it?”

“I am,” I said, my tone firm. “Antonio’s betrayal won’t go unpunished. But killing him quickly would be a mercy. I want him to suffer.”

“And Sophia?”

I glanced back toward the garden, where she stood like a storm waiting to break. “She’s his pride. His legacy. Taking her from him will destroy him in ways a bullet never could.”

Enzo nodded, his expression grim. “And if she fights you?”

I smirked. “Then I’ll enjoy every second of it.”