Ninety Eight

Antonio's Mansion –

The Morning After The warmth of the silk sheets wrapped around her body felt comforting, but the dull ache spreading through her limbs was impossible to ignore. Cassandra’s eyelashes fluttered, consciousness slowly pulling her from the dark abyss that had swallowed her. Her vision was blurred at first, her mind hazy, but soon, the high, elegant ceiling of Antonio’s mansion came into focus—ornately decorated with intricate carvings. She let out a small breath. I’m still alive. Gingerly, she tried to move her fingers, feeling the soreness weighing down on her body. The pain was there, but it was nothing compared to the lingering terror in her mind. Then—

"Cassandra..." That deep voice, usually laced with dominance and arrogance, now carried an unfamiliar softness.

She turned her head slowly. Antonio was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at her with intense emotion in his dark eyes. The man who was always ruthless, calculated, and in control, now looked at her as if she was something fragile—something precious.

"You're awake." His voice was barely above a whisper, as if afraid speaking too loudly would shatter this fragile moment between them. Cassandra blinked up at him, feeling something foreign stir inside her chest. She had never seen Antonio like this before. He had always been possessive, powerful, untouchable, but now, he looked at her as if… as if he had been afraid.

"You..."

Cassandra tried to speak, but her throat was dry, her voice hoarse. Antonio moved immediately, reaching for a glass of water on the nightstand. He slid his strong, warm hand beneath her head, lifting it gently as he held the glass to her lips.

"Slowly," he murmured.

She sipped the water carefully, the cool liquid soothing her throat, before gazing back at him.

"I… am I really alive?" she asked, needing to confirm that this wasn’t just a dream. Antonio nodded, his dark eyes still locked onto hers.

"Yes. And you're safe. I won’t let anyone touch you ever again."

Cassandra felt the memories flooding back—the abduction, Renjiro, the rough hands, the overwhelming fear that had nearly shattered her. But here, in the safety of Antonio’s bed, wrapped in his warmth, it all felt so far away. She wanted to ask how he had found her, what had happened afterward, but before she could say another word— Antonio reached for her hand. His strong fingers covered hers completely, the warmth of his touch different from anything she had felt before.

And then, before she could fully register what was happening— Antonio leaned down and captured her lips with his. But this wasn’t like before. It wasn’t raw, demanding, or possessive. No—this was different. This kiss was gentle, warm, and achingly slow, as if he was afraid of losing her. Cassandra’s eyes widened in shock. She was used to the way Antonio took what he wanted, always dominating, always in control. But this? This kiss felt dangerous in an entirely different way—because it wasn’t just about lust. It was something deeper, something real. Her breath hitched, and before she even realized it—tears slipped from the corner of her eyes. Antonio pulled back instantly, his brows furrowed as he saw the silent tears trailing down her cheeks. His calloused fingers brushed them away, his touch surprisingly gentle.

"Cassandra..." His voice was hoarse, like something was lodged in his throat.

"Don't cry." Cassandra shook her head, inhaling shakily.

"I don’t even know why I’m crying." Antonio cupped her face, his thumb stroking her soft skin, his touch so unlike him—so careful, so tender.

"You're safe now," he whispered.

"I swear, Cassandra, nothing like this will ever happen again. I'll protect you."

Cassandra felt her heart tremble. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust that this man—the king of the underworld, the most dangerous man she had ever met—could truly keep her safe. But she knew Antonio. His world was ruthless, filled with blood, enemies, and never-ending danger.

"No one can promise that, Antonio," she whispered.

"Your world is full of risks. If I stay with you, I'll always be in danger." Antonio’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening.

"Then I’ll always be by your side to make sure no one touches you."

Cassandra sighed softly. But before she could say another word— Antonio’s fingers suddenly slid behind her neck, pulling her closer. His breath fanned against her lips, his presence overwhelming.

"But you have to promise me one thing, Cass," he murmured, his voice so low and intimate that a shiver ran down her spine.

"Don't ever leave me."

Cassandra’s heart pounded violently against her ribs.

"Antonio…"

Antonio’s lips curved into a small smirk, but his eyes remained serious, burning into hers.

"I can’t lose you again," he confessed, his voice dangerously raw. Cassandra stared at him for a long moment, her heartbeat erratic, before she finally nodded.

"I won't leave."

Antonio let out a slow exhale, then pressed a soft kiss against her forehead—as if reassuring himself that she was really there, safe in his arms. But despite his calm exterior, there was something burning inside him—an unrelenting desire that always ignited whenever she was near. His large, calloused hands slid down to the nape of her neck, stroking it gently before moving to her waist. He pulled her closer until their bodies were flush against each other, her soft curves melting into his hard frame.

"Antonio…" Cassandra squeezed her eyes shut, trying to resist.

"Don’t fight me," Antonio whispered, his voice husky.

"I just need to feel you… to know that you're really here with me."

His hand traveled lower, grazing her skin—still tender from the trauma of yesterday. Cassandra let out a soft gasp, her body betraying her as it responded to his touch.

"You’re teasing me," she whispered, her lips trembling slightly. Antonio let out a low chuckle, his voice deep and seductive.

"I’m just reminding you… that you belong to me."

Cassandra bit her lower lip, trying to fight the intoxicating pull of his presence. But when Antonio's lips brushed over her bare shoulder, then traveled to the sensitive skin of her neck, she knew she was losing.

"I’m still tired," she whispered, grasping at any excuse. Antonio looked at her knowingly, his gaze dark with amusement.

"Then rest, sweetheart." Cassandra narrowed her eyes at him, skeptical.

"You’re really going to let me sleep?" Antonio's lips curled into a wicked smirk.

"Of course."

Then, his gaze darkened further, pure heat radiating from his body.

"But don’t expect me to hold back forever."

Cassandra was still resting in Antonio’s bed, her body recovering, when Antonio left the mansion to face an unexpected guest.

The night air was cold, but the tension outside the estate was even colder. Standing before Antonio and his men—Marcus, Matsuyama, Ben, and a handful of trusted soldiers—were the remnants of The Crimson Lotus. They looked like broken men. Their clothes were torn, some still covered in dried blood, their faces exhausted, their bodies weak. But despite the fear in their eyes, there was also something else—hope. They were men who had lost everything. Their leader was dead. Their empire was burned to the ground. And now, they stood before the very man who had destroyed them. Antonio crossed his arms over his chest, his expression unreadable.

"You’ve got some fucking nerve coming here." His voice was cold, unforgiving. One of the men—a tall, battered figure with a deep gash on his temple—stepped forward and gave a slight bow of respect.

"Mr. Franches, we’re not here to fight." Marcus’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Oh yeah?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Then why the fuck are you here?" The man lifted his head, his eyes honest, unflinching.

"We never truly chose this life," he said.

"We just wanted to survive." Antonio raised a brow, his tone mocking.

"Survive?" The man swallowed hard before gathering his courage. His voice was stronger this time.

"All of us here… we used to be ordinary men. Some of us had families, homes, businesses—until Renjiro took everything from us. We didn’t choose to serve him. We were forced."

A different man, younger but filled with anger and resentment, stepped forward. His voice shook as he spoke.

"Renjiro burned my house down with my wife and son inside," he said, his fists clenched tight.

"Just because I was late to one of his meetings. I hate him. I hate that I had to bow to that son of a bitch just to stay alive." A murmur of agreement rippled through the group. Grief, rage, and desperation burned in their eyes. Ben, who had been silent the entire time, finally spoke.

"If you hated him so much, why didn’t you kill him yourself?" The younger man let out a bitter laugh.

"You think we didn’t try? Every single time someone stood against him, they were executed in front of us." His voice cracked.

"Even the children weren’t spared." Antonio and Marcus exchanged glances. For the first time, they truly saw the suffering in these men. Antonio took a slow breath, then exhaled, his gaze unreadable.

"So now that Renjiro is dead and The Crimson Lotus is gone, you want to join me?" The first man—who had spoken earlier—nodded immediately.

"We want to serve a man who is better. We want a place where we can stand without fear. We don’t ask for pity. We just want the chance to use our skills for the right cause." Silence. Antonio studied them carefully. He could smell lies a mile away—and these men weren’t lying. The tension was suffocating, everyone waiting for his answer. Finally, Antonio spoke.

"If I take you in, you need to understand something."

Everyone stilled, waiting for his words.

"You don’t just work for me." Antonio's voice was low, commanding—dripping with power.

"You live for me. You die for me. Your loyalty isn’t for sale. If I take you in, then you belong to me." One of the men—the young one whose family had been murdered—dropped to his knees first. Then the next. And the next. One by one, they knelt before Antonio, bowing their heads in submission. Antonio inhaled slowly, watching a sea of men who had once been his enemies now swearing their lives to him. He exhaled sharply, then spoke one final command.

"If you betray me, I will kill you myself."

Silence.

Then—one by one, they nodded. And just like that, Antonio Franches had expanded his empire once more.

"Alright. I’ll give you a place. But remember one thing," Antonio's voice was like steel, his dark eyes flashing dangerously.

"If even one of you betrays me… I’ll personally make sure you die in a way far worse than Renjiro."

Silence.

No one dared to speak. But in that moment of quiet submission, every single man present understood the reality of who they were now serving. Marcus smirked, knowing full well that Antonio’s empire had just grown stronger than ever. The mansion was eerily quiet that night. A cool breeze drifted through the slightly open balcony doors, causing the sheer silk curtains to flutter lazily. The scent of wood, bourbon, and expensive cologne lingered in the air, creating a seductive and calming atmosphere. On the massive bed covered in ivory satin sheets,

Cassandra lay asleep, her chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. Antonio stood at the doorway, silently watching her. Normally, he didn’t care about women. They were nothing more than a momentary distraction, something to use, to claim, to conquer. But Cassandra…

Cassandra was different. The man moved toward the bed with quiet, controlled steps, his presence almost predatory. He stopped just beside her, his sharp eyes tracing every delicate feature of her face, bathed in the soft glow of the dim lighting. She looked so peaceful in her sleep. And yet…

Antonio felt something he had never allowed himself to feel before. Fear. Fear of losing her. It was an unfamiliar emotion, a weakness he had never permitted in his life. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and brushed his rough fingers against her cheek, trailing the curve of her jaw with an almost reverent touch. Cassandra stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent in her sleep, her body instinctively leaning into his warmth. Antonio’s lips curled into a small, knowing smirk.

"Sleeping beauty…" he murmured, his voice husky. He leaned down, his lips grazing her forehead in a feather-light kiss.

"Sleep well, princess…"

he whispered before pulling back. But even as he stood there, watching her, Antonio knew the truth. Cassandra wasn’t just another woman in his bed. She was something more. She was something he could never let go of. Cassandra’s lashes fluttered, her body stirring as a lingering warmth settled on her forehead. Her vision was hazy at first, but as it focused, she saw him—Antonio, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her with an unreadable expression.

"Antonio…?" her voice was hoarse. Antonio’s lips twitched.

"Did I wake you?"

Cassandra rubbed her eyes, confusion washing over her.

"You’re… here?"

Antonio didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he simply sat there, his intense gaze locked onto her, but there was something different about it tonight. There was no arrogance, no teasing, no power play. Just… something raw and unfiltered.

"I couldn’t sleep,"

he finally admitted. Cassandra frowned.

"So you decided to watch me sleep?"

Antonio chuckled softly, his voice low and smooth.

"I could’ve gone to another room, poured myself a drink, found some entertainment." His smirk darkened.

"But I didn’t want to leave." Cassandra swallowed, a strange warmth spreading in her chest.

"Why?" she whispered.

Antonio fell silent for a moment before exhaling deeply, his shoulders visibly tensing.

"Because I’m afraid, Cassandra." Cassandra’s eyes widened.

Antonio? Afraid?

That was a word she never thought she’d hear from him.

"Afraid?" she repeated, almost disbelieving.

Antonio’s fingers slid over hers, his grip firm yet gentle.

"I’ve had hundreds of women in my life, Cassandra," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dark whisper.

"Not a single one of them ever made me give a damn… except you." Her heart skipped a beat.

"What are you afraid of?" she asked, almost scared to know the answer. Antonio shifted closer, his fingers tangling with hers.

"I’m afraid of losing you."

Cassandra felt her throat tighten. She had never heard him speak like this before. Antonio Franches was always calculated, always in control, always playing some kind of twisted game. But tonight…

Tonight,

he was just a man—a man who was terrified of losing something he couldn’t afford to lose.

"I almost lost you yesterday," Antonio continued, his voice barely above a whisper.

"And I don’t want to feel that again." Cassandra stared at him, seeing something vulnerable and unfamiliar in his dark gaze. Antonio Franches—the ruthless, untouchable king of the underworld—looked fragile for the first time in his life.

"Antonio…" she whispered, squeezing his hand.

"I’m not going anywhere." A relieved sigh escaped him. His free hand lifted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering just a second too long.

"Good,"

he murmured, his voice deeper.

"Then that means you’re mine. Completely." Cassandra bit her lip, her pulse hammering in her ears.

"What do you mean?"

Antonio leaned in closer, his lips just inches from hers. The warmth of his breath sent a delicious shiver down her spine.

"I mean you’re not just mine in bed," he murmured, his voice a slow, seductive drawl.

"You’re part of my life now."

Cassandra felt herself melt. He was too close, too intoxicating.

"And I want you to understand something,"

Antonio continued, his lips grazing the shell of her ear, making her breath hitch.

"No other man gets to touch you. No other man gets to talk to you. No other man even gets to fucking look at you in a way I don’t allow." Cassandra felt heat pool low in her belly.

"Antonio, you’re being—"

"Protective?" he smirked, cutting her off.

"Damn right I am. And I don’t give a shit."

Cassandra let out a slow breath, trying to steady herself.

"Are you sure this isn’t just another game for you?" she asked, forcing herself to meet his gaze. Antonio tilted his head, his expression unreadable.

"If this were a game," he murmured, "then you’d be the only one I never want to lose." Cassandra swallowed hard.

"And if I ever leave?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Antonio's eyes darkened dangerously.

"Then I’ll chase you." His voice was a promise—

one that sent a shiver down her spine.

"To the ends of the fucking earth if I have to."

Cassandra exhaled shakily. There was no escaping this man. And maybe… Maybe she didn’t want to escape at all.