Daddy's here?

“Essa? Baby, come out. Daddy’s here to take you home.”

Enzo’s voice sliced through the penthouse like a knife, smug and mocking, followed by Lila’s soft, familiar laugh that turned my stomach.

I froze behind Dante, my hands fisting in the back of his shirt. The crash of shattered glass still echoed in my ears, and my heart slammed so hard I could barely breathe. Enzo was supposed to be my boyfriend—the guy I’d trusted with my fears, my body, my future. Instead, he’d sent me to the wrong suite like bait, and now he was here with my best friend, acting like he owned me.

Dante didn’t flinch. His body stayed rock-solid in front of me, gun steady in his hand as he faced the living room. “Stay exactly where you are, Essa,” he murmured, voice low and calm, the kind of calm that promised violence if crossed. His free hand reached back, fingers brushing my hip in a brief, possessive touch that sent unwanted heat racing through me despite everything.

I wanted to run. To scream. But my legs wouldn’t move. Part of me still clung to the stupid hope that this was all a misunderstanding—that Lila would explain everything and Enzo would apologize like he always did after his “moods.” The other part, the one that had felt Dante’s thumb on my pulse earlier, whispered that staying behind him felt safer than facing Enzo alone.

“Enzo.” Dante’s tone stayed even, no open mockery, just cold calculation laced with restrained fury. “You brought this to my door. Explain.”

I peeked around Dante’s broad shoulder. Enzo stood in the wrecked living room, two of his guys flanking him, guns lowered but ready. Lila hovered at his side, her arm linked through his like she belonged there. Her eyes met mine—wide, innocent, but something sharp lurked behind them. Betrayal tasted bitter on my tongue. She was supposed to be my ride-or-die, the one who knew every scar from my abandoned past.

Enzo’s gaze locked on me, possessive and wild. At twenty-six, he looked every bit the spoiled heir—leather jacket, messy dark hair, that charming smile now twisted with anger. “Essa, get over here. This is between family. Dad doesn’t get to keep what’s mine.”

“Yours?” The word burst out of me before I could stop it. I stepped out from behind Dante, ignoring his warning hand on my arm. “You sent me to the wrong suite. You left me here while people were shooting. And now you bring Lila?”

Lila bit her lip, playing the concerned friend. “Essa, babe, it’s not what it looks like. Enzo was just trying to handle some business. We came as soon as we heard there was trouble.”

Trouble. Like it was a minor inconvenience instead of my life on the line.

Dante moved slightly, positioning himself so he still shielded me without blocking my view. His presence radiated power—taller, broader, every line of his forty-six-year-old frame screaming controlled dominance. I hated how my body noticed: the way his shirt stretched across his back, the faint scent of him that made my knees weak even now. He’s your boyfriend’s father. Stop. But the internal war raged louder. I craved safety and real connection after years of betrayal, yet here I was, terrified of being discarded again while fighting this intense, forbidden pull toward the one man who made me feel truly seen.

“Business,” Dante repeated, voice flat. He holstered his gun but kept his stance ready. “Using Essa as bait to test loyalties? Sloppy, Enzo. And dangerous for everyone.”

Enzo laughed, but it sounded unhinged. “Dangerous? You’re the one holed up with my girlfriend while the rivals circle. What, you think playing hero will make her forget who she belongs to?” His eyes raked over me, lingering on the spot where Dante had touched my hip. “Come on, Essa. We had plans tonight. You were finally going to give it up. Don’t let him twist this.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. Shame. Anger. And worse—a flash of the champagne, the dim lights, the way Dante had looked at me like I mattered. I crossed my arms, trying to hold onto my crumbling independence. “Plans? You mean your setup. I’m not your toy, Enzo. Not anymore.”

Lila stepped forward, her voice sweet and pleading. “Essa, please. We’re all on the same side. Enzo’s just stressed about the family business. You know how much he cares about you.”

Cares. The word felt like a lie. I’d told Lila everything—my fears of being used, my desperate need to feel loved and in control. Had she been feeding it all to Enzo behind my back? Climbing the hierarchy on my pain?

The tension crackled. Enzo’s guys shifted, hands twitching toward their weapons. Dante didn’t move, but the air around him thickened with restrained fury. He wouldn’t degrade his son in front of me, but the cold authority in his posture said enough: Enzo was pushing limits that could break.

“Enough,” Dante said quietly. The single word carried more weight than any shout. “Essa stays under my protection until the threats are handled. You brought rivals to my building tonight. Fix your mess, or I will.”

Enzo’s face twisted. “Protection? Or are you just trying to steal what’s mine, old man? She’s twenty-two. Fresh. Innocent. You think she wants some forty-six-year-old controlling her life?”

The words stung, but they also ignited something dangerous in me. Because part of me did want Dante’s control—if it meant safety. The attraction I fought burned hotter in the chaos, my skin remembering his touch, my mind replaying how his eyes had darkened when he said I was his to protect.

I opened my mouth to tell Enzo exactly where he could shove his “plans,” but Dante’s hand found my wrist, a firm, grounding squeeze that sent sparks up my arm. Sensual. Possessive. He didn’t pull me back, just held me there, thumb stroking once—slow, deliberate—against my pulse. My breath caught. Why does this feel good? Why him?

“Leave, Enzo,” Dante ordered, still calm. “Take your men. And your… friend.” His gaze flicked to Lila for a split second, something unreadable passing through it. Did he suspect her too?

Enzo didn’t move. “Essa, if you stay here, you’re choosing him over me. Over us. After everything I’ve done for you? The nights I listened when no one else did?”

Lies. All of it. But the abandonment fears clawed at me anyway. What if I was wrong? What if running to Dante made me just another discarded woman in this world?

Lila shot me a look—half warning, half pity. “Think about it, Essa. The Don’s world isn’t for girls like us. He’ll use you and toss you aside when Sophia wants her spot back.”

Sophia again. The ambitious ex. The reminder twisted the knife.

Dante’s grip on my wrist tightened slightly, not painful, but enough to remind me he was there. Solid. Unyielding. His body heat radiated toward me, and for one forbidden moment, I imagined leaning into it fully—letting his strength become mine. No more fighting alone.

“Time’s up,” Dante said. He nodded toward the door. “Out. Now.”

Enzo hesitated, eyes boring into mine with that unstable mix of ambition and rage. “This isn’t over, Essa. You’re mine. And I’ll prove it—even if I have to burn everything down.”

He jerked his head at his guys and Lila. They backed toward the shattered glass and broken door, but Lila lingered a second longer, mouthing Call me with fake concern before disappearing.

The penthouse fell silent except for the distant city hum and my ragged breathing.

Dante released my wrist slowly, his fingers trailing like he didn’t want to let go. He turned to face me fully, storm-gray eyes searching mine. Up close, the age gap felt electric—his experience, his power, the silver at his temples making him look every bit the dangerous Don who could ruin or save me.

“You okay?” he asked, voice softer now, but still edged with that possessive undertone.

I nodded, but tears pricked my eyes. “No. None of this is okay. Enzo… Lila… they were together. I saw it in how she stood next to him. My best friend sleeping with my boyfriend. And you—” I stopped, swallowing hard. “You’re making it worse by keeping me here.”

He stepped closer, cupping my face with one large hand. The touch was gentle, but his thumb brushed my lower lip, sending a jolt of raw desire straight through me. “I’m keeping you alive, Essa. That’s not worse. That’s necessary.” His gaze dropped to my mouth again, hunger flickering before he locked it down. “But if you want out, say it. I won’t force you to stay… yet.”

The “yet” hung between us like a promise. Or a threat.

My internal battle raged. Independence screamed to walk away. The lonely girl inside begged to stay in the safety of his arms. Attraction to this forbidden man warred with my moral lines—I couldn’t want my boyfriend’s father. Couldn’t crave the obsessive possession I saw building in his eyes.

I pulled back from his touch, even as my body protested. “I need time to think. Alone.”

Dante watched me for a long moment, then nodded once. “The bedroom’s yours tonight. I’ll be out here. No one gets in.”

He turned toward the living room to deal with the mess, but paused at the doorway. “One more thing, Essa. Trust no one but me. Not even the voices that sound like friends.”

I retreated to the bedroom, closing the door with a soft click. My phone felt heavy in my hand. Messages waited—more from unknown numbers, one from Lila saying We need to talk, alone.

But as I scrolled, a new text popped up from an unknown sender: He’s watching you closer than you think. Ask him about the file with your name on it.

My blood ran cold. A file? On me?

I glanced at the door. Dante was right outside, protecting me. Or controlling me. The line blurred more every second.

Before I could decide whether to confront him or hide the message, the bedroom window rattled—subtle at first, then harder. A shadow moved on the balcony outside, barely visible through the sheer curtains.

Someone was trying to get in.

And Dante was in the other room, unaware.

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