Mag-log inAndrea's POV"I'm good," I assured him, reaching over to take his less-injured hand in mine. "I just... I can't stop thinking about what happened at the club."His expression immediately shifted to concern. "Are you sure you're okay? If you're traumatized or scared, we can talk about it. I can find you someone to talk to if—""Dante," I interrupted, squeezing his hand gently. "I'm not traumatized. I'm not scared. I'm just... processing.""Processing what?"How to put this into words? How to explain that seeing him defend me so fiercely had affected me in ways I was still trying to understand?"I'm processing the fact that you were ready to kill for me," I said quietly, aware that the Uber driver could probably hear us but not caring. "That you saw someone threaten me and you didn't hesitate for even a second. You just... acted. Defended me. Protected me.""Of course I did," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Someone put their hands on you. Threatened you. That'
Andrea's POVI met his eyes, and the wildness from earlier was completely gone. The cold, brutal enforcer who'd beaten a man bloody on the dance floor had disappeared. Now he just looked concerned and protective, his dark eyes filled with worry for me rather than rage at the man who'd touched me."I'm okay," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I promise. These will heal in a few days. I've dealt with worse injuries and kept working. But you—" His thumb stroked my cheek, leaving a small smear of blood that I didn't care about. "Are you really okay? He scared you. He hurt you. And then you had to watch me nearly beat him to death."He paused, and for the first time, I saw uncertainty flash across his face. "I know that wasn't easy to see. I know I was... brutal. Violent. I know seeing that side of me might have changed how you—""Stop," I interrupted, covering his hand on my face with my own. "Just stop. I'm okay. Shaken up, but okay. And I'm glad you were there. If
Andrea's POVHe'd moved so fast I hadn't even seen him coming. One second he was in the VIP section, the next he was here, his fist connecting with the guy's face over and over.The guy went down, hitting the floor hard, but Dante didn't stop. He straddled him and kept punching, his fists landing with brutal precision—jaw, nose, cheekbone, eye socket.Blood splattered with each impact. I could hear bones breaking, could see the guy's face turning into a bloody pulp.Dante was seeing red. I could see it in his eyes, in the way he moved, in the cold, calculated brutality of each punch. This wasn't just defending me—this was retribution. This was what happened to people who touched what belonged to him.And if someone didn't stop him, he was going to kill this guy right here on the dance floor."Dante!" I called out, but my voice was lost in the chaos. People were screaming, backing away, some pulling out phones to record.I pushed through the crowd and grabbed his shoulder. "Dante, stop
Andrea's POV"Mr. Torricceli, welcome back," she said with a professional smile. "Your usual?""Please. And whatever the lady wants."I ordered a vodka cranberry, and the waitress disappeared to get our drinks."You're a regular here?" I asked."I come occasionally. Luca owns a percentage of the club—silent partner situation. It's a good place to meet with certain business associates in a public setting without drawing too much attention."Our drinks arrived quickly, and we settled in to watch the crowd below. The music was good—a mix of current hits and throwback classics that had people moving. The energy was infectious, making me want to get up and dance.But Dante's hand on my thigh kept me anchored to the couch. His thumb drew lazy circles on my bare skin, the touch innocent to anyone watching but sending sparks of awareness through me.We sat like that for a while, sipping our drinks and watching the dancers below. Dante pointed out various people—celebrities trying to remain in
Andrea's POVThe spanking, the reprimand, the dominance in his voice—it all combined to make me impossibly wetter. My core was clenching with need, my breath coming faster."I'm sorry, sir," I said breathlessly, hoping he'd spank me again."No, you're not." He spanked me again, the other cheek this time. "But you will be."His hand soothed over the spots he'd just hit, the gentle touch a contrast to the sharp sting. "Here's what's going to happen," he said, his voice firm. "I'm not touching you until after the club. You're going to wait like a good girl. You're going to dance with me, let me watch you, feel you pressed against me—all while knowing you can't have me until I decide you can.""That's torture," I whimpered."That's the point." He turned me around so my back was to his chest, his hands on my hips. "And if you keep being a brat, if you keep trying to seduce me or disobeying me, I'll add punishments. Maybe I'll make you wait even longer. Maybe I'll edge you for hours when we
Andrea's POV"Good fuck or bad fuck?""Very good fuck." His hands clenched at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching for me. "Purple is definitely your color."I smiled and reached for the black set next. This one was more daring—the bra had strategic cutouts that showed glimpses of skin, and the panties were high-cut and left my ass mostly bare."Jesus Christ, Andrea," Dante said when I turned around. His voice was strained. "You're killing me here.""Good," I said with a wicked smile. "That's the point."I tried on the champagne silk set next—elegant and sophisticated, making me feel like old Hollywood glamour. Then finally the crimson set with the strappy bralette.This one was my favorite. The bralette had thin straps that crisscrossed over my breasts in an intricate pattern, and the high-waisted panties were covered in delicate lace. It was sexy and artistic and made me feel powerful."That one," Dante said immediately, his voice rough. "Definitely tha
Dahlia’s POVThe next morning, after Luca left for work, the house felt quieter than usual. Too quiet. I got dressed slowly, like my body was moving but my mind was somewhere else. I picked a simple outfit—nothing too flashy. Just jeans, a soft top, and flats. I took my gun like Luca asked and tuck
Dahlia’s POVI wriggled, tried to push his hands away, but he was stronger and he only laughed when I hit his chest playfully.“Please,” I begged in between giggles, “I can’t breathe!”He finally stopped, chuckling as he pressed a kiss to my cheek. My breathing was messy and fast, my hair all over
Dahlia’s POVEvening came faster than I expected, and suddenly we were getting ready for the night. There was this jittery feeling in my stomach, like butterflies mixed with nerves and excitement. I kept pacing around the room until I finally stood in front of the mirror and took a breath. I slippe
Dahlia’s POVThe next morning, sunlight peeked through the curtains, warming my skin as I slowly woke up. But before my eyes even fully opened, I felt this amazing sensation down there between my legs. It was warm and wet, like a soft pull that made my whole body tingle. I realized Luca was there,







