Blood on the Cuff

Dante’s arm tightened around me like steel, his body a solid wall between me and whatever nightmare waited outside that door.

The gunshot still echoed in my ears, sharp and final, mixing with the frantic thud of my heart. I pressed my face against his chest, inhaling that dangerous mix of cedar and gun oil, and for one stupid second, I felt safer than I ever had with Enzo. Then reality crashed back. This was his world. Blood and bullets and power plays. And I’d just stumbled straight into the middle of it wearing a dress meant for losing my virginity to his son.

“What’s happening?” I whispered, my voice muffled against his shirt. My hands fisted in the fabric before I could stop myself. He was warm. Too warm. Too real.

“Stay quiet.” His voice rumbled low, calm in a way that only made the fear sharper. His free hand moved to the small of my back, pressing me closer as another muffled shout came from the hallway. Footsteps pounded past our door, then faded.

I pulled back just enough to look up at him. Those storm-gray eyes locked on mine, intense and unreadable. A smear of blood stained his left cuff, dark and fresh. My stomach twisted. Whose blood? Had he just…?

“You’re bleeding on me,” I said, the words tumbling out before I could think. Stupid. Of all the things to say when people were shooting.

Dante’s mouth twitched—just the barest hint of something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Not mine.” He released me slowly, but his hand lingered on my waist, fingers splayed like he owned the right to touch me. Heat bloomed under his palm, spreading low and unwelcome. I hated how my body reacted. This man was twice my age, my boyfriend’s father, the Don who ruled this city with an iron fist. I should be terrified. I was terrified. But my pulse raced for reasons that had nothing to do with the gunshots.

He stepped back, putting space between us, and the loss of his heat made the room feel colder. “Sit down, Essa. Don’t move until I say.”

I didn’t sit. My legs felt shaky, but I crossed my arms, trying to hold onto some scrap of control. “Tell me what’s going on. Enzo sent me here. He said tonight was—” My voice cracked. “He set me up, didn’t he?”

Dante’s jaw tightened. That restrained fury I’d glimpsed earlier flashed again, but he kept it leashed. No mocking his son in front of me. Just cold calculation as he pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text. “My son has ambitions bigger than his reach. He thought using you as bait would draw out certain… problems. It backfired.”

“Bait?” The word tasted bitter. I laughed, but it came out hollow. “For what? Rivals? You?” My mind spun back to the texts—They’re coming for you. Enzo’s change of plans. The wrong suite that suddenly felt very deliberate. “He wanted me to embarrass him? Or worse?”

Dante didn’t answer right away. He moved to the windows, peering down at the glittering city below like he could see every threat from up here. His shoulders were broad under that black shirt, the fabric pulling tight when he flexed his hands. I caught myself staring at the way his forearms corded with muscle, at the faint scars visible on his knuckles. Power. Control. Everything Enzo pretended to have but didn’t.

“You walked into my suite tonight,” he said finally, turning back to face me. His gaze dragged over me slowly—my simple black dress that suddenly felt too short, too revealing. “Champagne poured. Lights low. My son’s idea of a joke, or a test. Either way, it put you in the crosshairs of men who don’t play games.”

I swallowed hard. My core desire flickered in my chest—to feel safe, loved, in control for once. Not this. Not being a pawn between father and son. “So what now? You said I’m under your protection. Does that mean I can leave?”

His eyes darkened. He crossed the room again, stopping close enough that I had to tilt my head to meet his stare. “No.” The single word dropped like a verdict. “Not tonight. Not until I know how deep this goes. Enzo’s been slipping for months—leaking routes, testing loyalties. Tonight was sloppy. If they saw you come up here…”

He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to. The implication hung heavy: I was marked now. Because of Enzo. Because of one wrong door.

My phone buzzed in my clutch on the table. I lunged for it, but Dante was faster. He snatched it up, glancing at the screen before I could. His expression hardened.

“Give that back,” I demanded, reaching for it. Our fingers brushed. Electricity shot up my arm, and I yanked my hand away like I’d been burned. What is wrong with me? I wanted connection, not this forbidden pull that made my skin tingle and my moral boundaries feel paper-thin.

He held the phone out but didn’t let go when I grabbed it. For a second, we were connected by the device, his larger hand dwarfing mine. “Be careful who you trust, Essa. Not everyone who smiles at you wants what’s best for you.”

I pulled the phone free and checked the messages. Two from Enzo: Where are you? This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. And one from Lila: Girl, you okay? Enzo’s losing it. Call me ASAP.

Lila. My best friend. The one person I thought had my back through all the abandonment crap in my life. Her text felt off, too eager. But maybe I was just paranoid now.

Dante watched me read, his presence like a shadow I couldn’t shake. “Your friend Lila. How close are you two?”

“Close enough.” I locked the screen, tucking the phone away. “Why?”

He didn’t push. Instead, he shrugged out of his jacket, revealing the gun holstered at his side. The move was casual, but it screamed danger. And power. My gaze lingered on the way his shirt stretched across his chest, on the hint of dark tattoos peeking at his collar. Forty-six, and he looked like he could ruin me without breaking a sweat. I hated that the thought sent a forbidden thrill through me. I was supposed to be giving myself to Enzo tonight. Not imagining his father’s hands on me.

“Change of plans for you too,” he said, voice dropping lower. He stepped closer again, crowding my space without touching. “You’ll stay here tonight. My men are clearing the building. Tomorrow, we talk about how to keep you breathing.”

Stay here. In his penthouse. With him. The words should have terrified me. Instead, my body betrayed me—nipples tightening under my dress, a low ache building that had nothing to do with fear. I backed up until my thighs hit the couch. “I can’t. Enzo will—”

“Enzo doesn’t decide anymore.” Dante’s tone stayed even, but his eyes burned with something possessive. He reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. The touch was gentle, almost tender, but his fingers lingered at my jaw, thumb brushing my pulse point. It raced under his touch. “You want safety, Essa? Control? You won’t find it running back to my son tonight.”

How did he know that about me? The core ache I carried—years of being discarded, betrayed, left feeling worthless. I blinked back sudden tears, refusing to let them fall. “You don’t know me.”

“I know enough.” His voice softened just a fraction, but the intensity never wavered. “And right now, knowing too much is what’s keeping you alive.”

The air between us crackled. I could smell him, feel the heat rolling off his body. My mind screamed forbidden, wrong, he’s Enzo’s dad. My body whispered something far more dangerous. What would it feel like to let him take control? Just for one night. To feel wanted instead of used.

A sharp knock sounded on the door. Dante’s hand dropped from my face instantly, his expression snapping back to cold authority. He moved to answer it, gun drawn in one smooth motion.

I stayed rooted, breath shallow. Through the cracked door, I caught snippets of hushed conversation—his men reporting cleared floors, one rival down, but more possibly incoming. Then a name: Sophia Rossi. His ex-lover? Underboss? The words were too low to catch fully, but Dante’s shoulders tensed.

He closed the door and turned back to me, holstering the gun. “You’re staying. End of discussion.”

I opened my mouth to argue, to demand he take me home or call the police like a normal person, but the words died. Because in that moment, with blood on his cuff and danger still humming in the air, I realized something terrifying.

Part of me didn’t want to leave.