Semua Bab Desired by the Dangerous Men: Bab 31 - Bab 40

I was lying somewhere soft, somewhere comfortable. It didn’t feel like my own bed, but honestly, I didn’t really care. My body felt light, too light, as though it had been floating through a dream before gravity gently eased me back down. I rolled over slowly, stretching, letting my limbs melt into the softness of the sheets beneath me. They felt luxurious, smooth against my bare skin, like expensive silk that clung to the warmth of my body. For a fleeting moment, I thought maybe Dante had carried me into his bed—his room often smelled of wood polish and old leather, with a touch of that rich, velvety cologne he always wore.But that was when I noticed something wasn’t right.The scent was off. These sheets didn’t carry Dante’s intoxicating warmth or the faint hint of Italian spices that seemed to cling to his skin like an afterthought. They were unfamiliar, colder, more sterile. Masculine, yes—but not in the way I craved. No cinnamon, no sandalwood, no hint of his presence.This was d

The door creaked open again, and I quickly wiped at my cheeks, smudging away the tears that clung to my skin like betrayal. I didn’t want anyone to see me like that—vulnerable, lost, stripped bare by the weight of everything I couldn’t control. I tried to erase any trace of sadness from my expression, forcing my breath to even out.My fingers reached beneath the edge of the mattress, gently sliding the ring under it—the one Dante had given me, the one that still shimmered like a promise I wasn’t sure I deserved anymore. I tucked it away as if I could protect it, as if hiding it could protect him, protect us. I couldn’t risk someone finding it. I couldn’t risk someone taking it.“Lil?!”My head shot up, and my gaze collided with Ana’s. Her eyes were wide, frantic, filling with something I couldn’t quite name before her entire face broke open into a smile that stretched from cheek

I opened the door, forcing myself to take it slow, restraining the urge to burst into the room the way every muscle in my body demanded.She was here. Lillian was actually here. Under my roof. Needing me. Needing my protection, my care, my strength.And she would get it. She would get everything.Once she became my wife, there would be nothing left for her to want. Not safety, not warmth, not love. I would give her a world where nothing touched her without going through me first.I stepped inside, my eyes locking on her immediately. She was sitting on the bed, her wide, blue eyes frozen on me, like she wasn’t sure whether to scream or run. That flicker of fear, that flash of uncertainty, I could take it. She’d get used to me—she’d learn I was never a danger to her.While I’d been spending years quietly building my obsession, feeding my desire with fantasies and stolen glance

I stepped back, my fingers slipping away from the last button on her gown, and for a moment I just let myself take her in. My best friend. The woman who had been at my side for three years, the one who had laughed with me, cried with me, kept me sane when everything else threatened to tear me apart. Now she was the one standing in front of me, ready to walk down the aisle in a matter of moments, about to bind herself to a man for life. A man she barely knew. A man she had convinced herself was right for her.And yet, despite everything, she was smiling. She didn’t look weighed down by doubt or fear the way I had felt only weeks ago, when my own world had shattered and rebuilt itself in ways I still didn’t understand. She looked light, radiant even, as though all the darkness that pressed down on the rest of us had never even brushed against her shoulders.“You look beautiful, Ana,” I whispered, the words tumbling from my lips before I could even think to shape them. And it wasn’t just

It felt as if a thousand butterflies had taken off inside of me, wings beating frantically, unable to be contained. The giddiness built higher and higher until it had nowhere to go, expanding in my chest, my stomach, my very bones. My nerves twisted together with anticipation, every second that passed swelling with the knowledge of what was coming, of what this night meant. The air itself seemed thick, heavy with promise.Igor, on the other hand, looked completely calm—almost unnervingly so. His large hands held mine firmly, the touch both grounding and electrifying, as though I were tethered to a force of nature. His words, soft but deliberate, carried affection and unyielding certainty. He was in control, his presence a storm contained only by sheer will. Yet I had caught the cracks forming in his restraint, had felt the heat behind the calm when we danced. The moment he had pulled me against him, his body hard and warm against mine, I’d sensed the tremor. When he whispered how breat