LOGINImogen Darcy is living a forbidden fantasy, secretly in love with her charismatic professor, Dante Salvatore. For two years, their stolen moments between lecture halls are a bittersweet promise of a future without secrets. But the fairytale ends the morning she wakes up alone, clutching a single, devastating post-it note. Her world instantly collapses. The press, tipped off by Dante's powerful family, brands her a gold-digging mistress. She is publicly shamed, expelled from Oxford, and disowned by her family—left utterly penniless with one final, life-altering secret: she's pregnant. Two years later, Dante returns, a man consumed by a vengeful rage. He has just discovered the monstrous betrayal orchestrated by his own mafia dynasty, a betrayal that forced him to shatter the woman he loved. He is too late to find her, but he finds the daughter he never knew. His quest for revenge uncovers his family's darkest secret: a brutal child trafficking ring. But his investigation leads him to a shocking safehouse, where the final piece of the puzzle is the broker's niece—a hardened, resilient Imogen. Now, to protect the family he has just found, Dante must bring them into the heart of the enemy's territory: his own gilded estate in Italy. Forced into close quarters, they must navigate their painful history, a web of deadly enemies, and a passion that never truly died. As a final, bloody war for control erupts, they are forced to confront a dangerous question: Can a love that was first built on secrets and then shattered by betrayal, be rebuilt on a foundation of vengeance and blood?
View MoreDante's Pov.Flashback:]“Richardo's men attacked the manor last night, your grandfather's getting old... he wants you home,” Mariano says as I get into the car. I know their symbol when I see them; it's a cold, familiar dread. I had just dropped Imogen at the bus stop and watched her leave when he drove up to me, a theatrical way to make an entrance. Nothing has changed. He is still the tall, aloof man I had left, only with more grey hairs and an intense addiction to his weed.He's been here two weeks ago. I've been stalling it, thinking of ways to tell Imogen. I'm trying not to leave any tracks, but she’s been noticing that my mood is off. We’ve just left the ice cream shop she dragged me to, an attempt to cheer me up with a cone. I don't look at her, seeing her worried. I don't want to leave her. I'm thinking of ways to negotiate and have her come to Italy with me, or better still, we could work out a long-distance relationship while I'm away. Dating her was a great alteration to m
Dante's Pov.I'm calling her old number as I head out of the campus, a frantic, useless effort. I've already called someone to pick up the car before taking a cab back to my old apartment. She isn't answering. I don't know where her house is; I never got to visit because of how strict she said her parents were. She kept that part of her life separate, a boundary I respected. Now I curse myself for it.I pray silently that she's at the apartment, the one I gave her. I told Reginald to check on her the next morning, so maybe he knows where she lives. The cab pulls up to the building, and I barely give the driver a second look as I throw some cash at him. I don't pay attention to the old neighbors who squint at me, their faces a mix of surprise and suspicion. I try to walk briskly, avoiding any potential paparazzi, and finally get upstairs.Memories of her hit me like a physical blow. The way we messed up here, how I had kissed her on the staircase with her legs wrapped around my waist,
-2 YEARS-Dante's Pov.“And why Criminology?” I ask her, watching as she reaches for the television remote. I love how she does this, how she scrolls through the channels. I know she's going to pick Princess Diaries again; we've watched that movie at least ten times since we met. I love watching her watch it, the way she smiles, giggles, and kicks her feet while her head is on my lap as I fiddle with her hair. It's a comfortable, easy love.“You've asked me this before,” Imogen chuckles. She picks the movie and joins me on the couch, settling in between my legs with her head resting on my shoulder.“I just want to know if your reasons changed,” I say, my voice low. “You're in your second year now.”“No... it's still for my Uncle. He worked as a paralegal and then a Juvenile Justice Specialist, which is the path I'm following because I love children. As I've said before, Mr. Salvatore.” She grins, her eyes sparkling.I kiss her hair softly as the movie starts. “And that's very noble of
Imogen's Pov. I force my legs to move, pushing myself through the campus gates. I can feel eyes on me, a heavy, scrutinizing weight. The whispers start up again, a low, venomous hum just like on the bus. Every gaze feels like a physical blow, a harsh reminder of everything I've lost. My confidence, once a steady flame, is snuffed out. The night before, I cried until I was empty, as if tears could somehow erase the past or bring him back. They didn't. They just leave my eyes swollen and my heart raw. I've covered the puffy redness with a thick layer of makeup and a pair of dark glasses, hoping to hide my despair. But even with the disguise, their words find me in the hallway. I hear their jabs, sharp and cruel, cutting through the low hum of the crowd. “And she looks so innocent, getting fucked by Mr. Salvatore.” “I wonder what he sees in her, she's so average.” “What do you expect? She gave herself away, it's free, but I'm sure he could manage it.” I blink away the hot tears t
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