CHAPTER 3 ~ CALL TO THE DEVIL

SALLY'S POV

The moment I was completely alone, I shattered... I didn't want to cry but I just couldn't hold back anymore, the betrayal sat heavy on my chest and it weighed me down.

I didn’t even wait for the door to close after the nurse left, the dam inside me burst, and everything came rushing out, my breath, my pride, my composure, it all collapsed in on me like a dying star.

I buried my face in the stiff hospital pillow and screamed. "How could they?"

I had been nothing but good to them, both of them. I let Pamela live rent-free in my house when she lost her job. I paid her bills, covered her car repairs, gave her everything without blinking and Kelvin? I loved him, I forgave his distance, his mood swings, I gave him space when he asked for it, and trusted him even when I shouldn’t have.

"I was stupid, so dumb." I said when I remembered how he used my cars even more than I did and spent my money lavishly without asking first, he had access to my cards and it was after we broke up that I changed my pin.

And now they were plotting to steal everything from me, together in my hospital room, while I lay there, broken and half-dead, listening to them fuck.

The pain wasn’t just in my body, it was in my soul and in my bones.

I could have screamed the truth, could have called the police, could have exposed them but they had video, footage that made me look like a murderer and he was right, I have had a running with the cops before, so my chances were already slim.

"This is not fair." I whispered as I continued crying. "I can't let this slide." No, I couldn’t fight this alone.

I needed help and not just any help.

His.

I reached beneath the blanket and pulled out the nurse’s stolen phone. My hands were trembling as I unlocked the screen, thankfully , it wasn't passworded. Then I dialed the only number I knew by heart but swore never to use.

It rang, and rang, then I remembered he didn't like to pick up unknown numbers and just as I was about to hang up…

"Who the hell is this?"

His voice came through, deep, cold, and familiar. It rolled through my chest like thunder.

I swallowed. "Dante." I called and there was instant silence, then a sharp inhale.

"…Princess."

He was the only one who ever called me that and to the rest of the world, he wasn’t Dante. He was Doom... The name whispered in fear, the shadow in every dark alley and the monster Mafia boss parents warned their kids about.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice shifting... a little softer, suddenly concerned.

"No, Dante." My voice cracked, my throat closing up around the words. "I am not okay, I need you." I sounded small even in my ears.

He went quiet.

Then, that voice again, now hard, cutting through like steel. "Say no more, send me your location."

The line went dead after that and relief hit me like a wave but the tears wouldn’t stop even as I texted him the hospital’s name. I don't know the room number, so I sent the hospital name alone, it was stamped on their equipments, then curled into myself, holding the phone like it was a lifeline.

I hated calling him, not because I didn’t trust him... he was the only person in the world I did trust but because of the way he made me feel. Dante 'Doom' Castillo was many things, my uncle by blood, a ruthless Mafia kingpin by name, and a walking sin in every way possible.

"Everything will be fine." I whispered to myself as I waited impatiently for his call, asking me for directions or asking me to come out but I got no call.

Then he finally walked in, an hour later, and the moment I set my eyes on him, I nearly forgot how to breathe.

Six-foot-three, wide sculpted shoulders in a fitted black coat. A black shirt unbuttoned just low enough to reveal the ink running down his bronze skin, his jaw was sharp, his nose straight, his cheekbones high and cruelly perfect. Midnight black hair, just long enough to fall into his piercing, cold grey eyes, the kind of eyes that stripped souls, not just clothes.

His lips were full, but he always pressed them in a thin, unreadable line, except when he smirked and right now, that smirk was directed at me.

"Princess." He drawled, his voice like black velvet soaked in whiskey. "I am here now."

My lips trembled and the tears came again, no matter how hard I tried to hold them back, I wasn’t crying because I was still scared, I was crying because I was safe and also… because seeing him again, his power, his dominance, his deadly calm aura made my body hum in all the wrong ways.

My core clenched, I pressed my thighs together, trying to ease the pressure. Fuck, why him?

He crossed the room in three slow, terrifyingly beautiful steps and bent to scoop me up like I weighed nothing. Bridal style, like he was carrying something fragile, something his.

"You are burning up." He muttered as he held me close to himself like he owned me.

I buried my face in his chest. "I am fine now."

As he turned toward the door, a nurse appeared, blocking the exit. "Sir, she’s still recovering. You can’t just..."

Dante didn’t even flinch, he just stared at her with that ice-cold gaze that could make grown men piss themselves. "And who’s going to stop me?"

The nurse opened her mouth to say something, then shut it.

He smirked. "That’s what I thought."

He nodded to one of the men behind him, his right-hand man, Victor. He stepped forward and handed the nurse a thick bundle of cash then Dante leaned in, his voice low and murderous.

"If anyone comes asking for her, you tell them she’s fucking dead. You say anything else… and you will be the dead one." He promised and the nurse nodded, eyes wide, clutching the money like it was holy water.

Dante turned and walked out with me in his arms, out of the hospital, and out of the nightmare.

He took me back home, back to the Castillo estate.

...

I woke up to silk sheets and warm light, not in my old room, not even in one of the guest rooms.

Dante’s bed.

His cologne lingered on the pillow, his massive walk-in closet loomed to my right and at the foot of the bed, clothes. Black lounge pants, a soft cotton shirt layed on one side of the bed. One of his I guess, judging by the size... Sitting on the coffee table was food, different dishes.

I slid out of bed, aching but more alive than ever. I walked into the en-suite, sleek marble, matte black fittings, steam shower, and a soaking tub big enough to fit two bodies, or one Dante.

I showered, I dressed, I ate the food laid out on the tray beside the bed and then I went looking for him... I found him in the study.

The fireplace flickered, the room smelled like leather and danger. Dante sat behind a massive desk, scrolling through a tablet with his phone pressed to his ear.

His eyes lifted the second I stepped in and he hung up.

"Princess." He said softly. "You are up."

I nodded. "Thanks… for coming for me."

He stood, all six feet of raw power and effortless command. "Don’t be ridiculous, you know I will always come for you. I will drop everything, burn cities and do whatever it takes."

My heart twisted in my chest, he moved to the armchair and sat, then patted his lap.

I hesitated.

But my feet had a mind of their own, I walked over and sat on him, one leg over his thigh, hands resting on his shoulder. His heat seeped into me, his scent wrapped around me.

And I hated how much I needed both, I hated how he made me feel, I hated that I could hardly control myself around him.

"Now." He said, eyes darkening. "Who the fuck put you in a hospital?"

I met his eyes. "My ex and my best friend." I said without hesitation.

He didn’t blink.

"I want revenge, Dante. I want them to suffer, I want them to pay."

His smirk was slow, wicked, and utterly feral.

"Say less, princess." Then his voice dropped, gravelly, low, and terrifying. "Tell me what they did, then sit back and let me end them."