Todos los capítulos de DIRTY DESIRES: DADDIES TASTE BETTER: Capítulo 241 - Capítulo 250

Dante’s POVMarco answered on the second ring. “Boss.”“Matteo is missing,” I said right away, my voice low and tight. “Lola took him to the store this morning and lost track of him. She thinks someone took him. Get the police involved now. I’m heading there.”There was a short pause on the other end, then Marco’s voice came back steady but serious. “I’m on my way. I’ll call the police as soon as we hang up. Where’s the store?”I gave him the name and address Lola had told me. My voice sounded rough even to my own ears. “Triple the security at the hospital,” I added. “I want more men on Lia and my dad. No one gets near either of them. Understand?”“Got it. I’ll handle it.”I hung up and practically ran the rest of the way to the parking lot. My hands were shaking as I got into the car and started the engine. The keys almost slipped from my fingers. The drive to the store felt endless. My heart wouldn’t slow down no matter how many deep breaths I tried to take. Every red light made me

Dante’s POVThe words hit me like a slap. Anger rose so fast and hot that my vision narrowed for a second. Heat flooded up my neck and into my face. I reached out and grabbed her arm—not too tight, but firm enough that she couldn’t pull away. My fingers closed around her wrist. I could feel her pulse jumping under my hand. My voice came out low and dangerous, almost a growl.“Never speak about Lia that way again,” I said. “Do you hear me? Never. Or you will regret it.” I stared straight into her eyes and didn’t look away. “You slept with my own brother while we were still dating. What does that make you, huh? You don’t get to stand there and call anyone a slut. Not after what you did.”She stared at me, breathing hard, her chest rising and falling fast. For a moment she looked like she might argue back, but the words seemed to catch in her throat. The anger in her face mixed with something that looked a lot like shame. Her eyes flicked away from mine. I let go of her arm and took the

Dante’s POVRelief and fear arrived at exactly the same moment, so forceful and simultaneous that for a half second the room did something strange at the edges—like my vision flickered. I stood very still and let the information land properly."Tell me," I said. My voice came out lower than usual."An old motel on the edge of the city." Callum's voice was steady and precise—he always did this, stripped everything to the essential facts first, details second. "East side, near the freight district. Looks like he's been there since this morning. We've confirmed the room number. Ground floor, east wing, room fourteen."Room fourteen.I said the number in my head once. Fixed it there."He's alone?" I asked."Appears to be. We had eyes on the room for forty minutes. No one else has gone in or out. One car in the lot that matches the plate we flagged." He paused. "Matteo is with him. One of my guys spotted movement through the window gap in the curtain. Small shape. Moving."Moving.He was m

Dante’s POVIt was the kind of place that looked like it had been dying slowly for a very long time—a low, flat-roofed building stretched along the road in an L-shape, two floors, exterior corridors with rusted railings and doors that faced the parking lot directly. The paint on the walls had once been white, or possibly a pale yellow—it was impossible to tell now. It had peeled away in long strips that curled outward like bark from a dead tree, exposing the greyed concrete underneath. Dark water stains ran from the roofline down the face of the building in long vertical streaks, like the place had been crying for years and nobody came to ask why.Some of the room numbers on the doors were missing. The ones that remained were crooked or hanging by a single screw. A couple of the exterior light fixtures were broken, the casing cracked, exposed wiring dark and dead. At the far end of the lot near the entrance, a neon sign that might once have said the motel's name flickered weakly—on fo

Dante’s POVI stopped moving.I stopped completely. Both hands still on the gun, arms up, but I planted my feet and did not take another step.My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat and in my fingertips and behind my eyes. Sweat ran down the back of my neck and under my collar even though the air under the trees was cool enough to see my own breath if I looked for it. My shirt was stuck to my back. My hands were slick on the grip.I had the shot. Technically. He was right there in the open, thirty feet away, lit up by that column of afternoon light.But the barrel of his gun was against my son's temple, and if I fired and I was wrong by an inch, or if his finger tightened when the bullet hit him —I didn't take it.Callum and his men had spread out around the clearing without a sound, forming a loose half-circle in the trees. Six of them, guns up, all frozen in exactly the same way I was. Nobody wanted to be the one who made the sudden move. Nobody wanted to be the