Todos os capítulos de DARING THE MAFIA DON MR DANTE: Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

Iris’ POVThe conference room was already warm with voices when Iris walked in, her coffee still burning her palm. Everyone was seated, partners, associates, and of course, Hugh with his stupid smirk like he owned a reason to stare at her. Mr. Royce sat at the head of the table, flipping through a binder as if the fate of the entire firm was in it.Iris took the empty seat beside Hugh because the universe hated her. She didn’t look at him. She didn’t need his eyes undressing her this early in the morning.“Alright,” one of the senior associates, Lydia, was saying as Iris settled in, “regarding the Martinez case, the settlement is finalized. They agreed to our terms.”A few claps, nods, a couple of relieved sighs. Normal firm shit.“Good,” Mr. Royce said without looking up. “Close it out today. File everything before noon.”Lydia nodded, flipping her notepad shut. The room moved on to the next file like they were automated. Iris tried to focus, but beneath her blazer and her perfectly

Dante’s POVDante knew it was a mistake the moment he woke up.And no, it wasn’t the sex.That part had been inevitable the second Iris walked into his room last night with fire in her eyes and panic in her voice. He hadn’t stopped it because he hadn’t wanted to. He hadn’t stopped it because for a few hours, he forgot who he was supposed to be.That was the problem.He lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling.. Iris wasn’t beside him anymore. He’d noticed the moment her warmth left the bed, even though he’d pretended to stay asleep.He dressed quietly and left the room without looking back.By the time he entered the kitchen, Iris was already there.She stood at the counter in one of his shirts, sleeves rolled up, hair pulled into a loose knot. She was cracking eggs into a bowl, focused, calm on the surface. Domestic. Too normal for something that shouldn’t exist between them especially because everyone in his circle. In his penthouse, knew she was supposed to be his fake wife. B

Iris’ POVIris fell asleep because she had no other choice.Her body was tired. Her head hurt. Her chest felt heavy in a way she didn’t want to think about. Lying awake would only make it worse, so she forced herself to rest.She lay on her side, facing the wall, staring at nothing.Earlier, she had told herself she didn’t care. She had acted like Dante’s words didn’t get to her. Like the way he’d spoken, cold, distant, careless… meant nothing.But when the room went quiet and she was left alone with her thoughts, she felt it.One tear slipped out.She noticed it immediately and wiped it away, annoyed with herself. She hated crying. She hated feeling small. She hated feeling like she wanted something she had no right to want.She shut her eyes tighter.Sleep came anyway.*****Flashback, Eleven Years AgoShe was little again.Not the way she remembered herself in pictures, but the way her body felt. Short. Weak. Easy to miss.It was night.She knew that much right away.The air was co

Iris’ POVPreviously Iris had been staring at her screen for almost ten minutes without reading a single word.The document in front of her was open, the cursor blinking patiently, but her mind was somewhere else entirely. It had been there since morning. Since the image refused to leave her head.The shirt.Dark blue. Faded around the collar. Slight tear at the sleeve seam.She knew that shirt and she knew it too well.Eleven years ago, her father had owned one just like it. Not similar. Not close. The exact same one. She remembered because she used to tease him about it, telling him he wore it too often. She remembered how it smelled faintly of cologne. She remembered folding it after laundry when she was still young enough to think her family was unbreakable.And now, one of Dante’s men had barged into her room wearing it.When he rushed in earlier to check on her with a heavy breath and two eyes at alert, she noticed it immediately. Her heart had skipped before she could stop it

Dante’s POV Dante left the building without looking back. He actually didn’t need to. Whatever he had gone there to say had died the moment Iris walked past him and told him not to speak. He stepped into his car with his face locked in its usual calm, the kind that fooled people into thinking nothing ever touched him. The door shut, and he started the engine. He had come alone, thus he didn’t hesitate to drive off. Iris’s face kept pushing its way back into his thoughts, the way her mouth had trembled when she told him not to cross the line, the way she had walked away before he could explain himself. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and forced his focus back to the road. Feelings had no place here. He reminded himself of that as he always did. Feelings were weaknesses, and weaknesses got men like him killed. That was when his instincts flared. The car ahead of him slowed, not abruptly, but just enough to feel wrong. At the same time, another vehicle slipped in