Six Months Contract With The Mafia God

”Not invaluable,” he said. ”Just valuable. There’s a difference. These have prices. You are invaluable. There’s no price for you.”

She moved to him and kissed him, and this time it was soft. Tender. Not about possession or dominance, but about connection.

”I want you,” she said softly. ”Right now. Here. But I want it slow. I want you to take your time.”

He smiled....a real smile, not the predatory ones he usually gave her.

”Come,” he said, taking her hand.

He led her up the spiral staircase to a loft area above the library.

There was a daybed there, positioned under a skylight. The afternoon sun poured down through the glass, illuminating dust motes that floated in the air like tiny stars.

Dimitri laid her down gently and removed her bikini. Then he lay beside her, and for a long moment, they just looked at each other.

”I love you,” he said. It wasn’t a question or a statement of possession. Just a fact, stated simply.

”I love you too,” she replied.

He kissed her slowly, his hand moving across her skin with a gentleness that was almost shocking given his usual intensity. He took his time, kissing down her neck, across her shoulders, down her breasts. His mouth on her nipples was soft, almost reverent, and she felt tears forming at the tenderness of it.

When he finally positioned himself between her legs, he looked into her eyes before pushing inside. His pace was slow, measured, nothing like the brutal fucking of earlier. This was different. This was intimate in a way that felt almost more intense than any of their previous encounters.

”Look at me,” he said as he moved inside her. ”I want to see your face while I’m inside you.”

She kept her eyes locked on his, watching the way his expression shifted with pleasure, the way his jaw clenched as he fought to maintain his slow pace.

”You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. ”Inside and out. I don’t think you understand how much you mean to me.”

She reached up and touched his face, and he turned his head to kiss her palm.

The orgasm, when it came, was different from the others. Deeper. More emotional. She felt tears slide down her temples as pleasure washed through her, and Dimitri kissed them away.

When he came, it was with a groan of her name, and he stayed inside her afterward, holding her close, his heartbeat steady against hers.

They lay like that as the sun moved across the skylight, turning the light golden and then orange.

”We should probably go to dinner,” Eve said eventually.

”Probably,” Dimitri agreed, but neither of them moved.

Instead, they stayed there as the day turned to evening, talking softly about everything and nothing, her head on his chest, his fingers stroking her hair.

For these fourteen days, there was nowhere else to be. No one else to be. Just this....two people completely lost in each other, existing in a world that was entirely their own.

***

That evening, they had dinner on the main terrace as the sun set.

The staff had prepared something simple....fresh fish, grilled vegetables, wine that cost more than most people’s monthly rent. But Eve barely tasted it. She was too aware of Dimitri across the table from her, too aware of the way he watched her, too aware that in the morning, he would wake her up with his mouth, and the cycle would continue.

Fourteen days to exist in this paradise.

Fourteen days before the war started again.

But for now, there was just this. The ocean. The island. And a man who had built an entire world just so he could have her completely to himself.

***

POV: DANTE

The apartment building was in one of Rome’s most expensive neighborhoods.

Old money. The kind of place where doormen didn’t ask questions and residents minded their own business. The kind of place where a man could come and go without anyone remembering his face.

Dante moved through the lobby with the confidence of someone who owned the building. He didn’t, technically. But he owned enough things in Rome that it felt like he did. The city bent to his will. The city knew his name and what it meant.

He took the elevator to the seventh floor, and the moment the doors opened, he could hear her.

Movement inside. A phone buzzing. The sound of something breaking....glass, maybe. She was agitated. Pacing. The thermal imaging his men had provided confirmed she was alone.

Perfect.

Dante had been waiting three days for this. Three days since she’d blocked his number. Three days since she’d learned his name and what it really meant. Three days of knowing she was across the city from him, thinking she could just shut him out like he was some man she could dismiss.

He rang the doorbell.

Isabella opened the door expecting delivery.

She’d ordered food, Thai food, the kind she ate when she was sad and needed comfort. Instead, she got Dante Romano standing in her doorway, dressed in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than most people’s monthly rent. His dark hair was slicked back. His eyes were cold.

For a moment, she just froze. Her heart seized in her chest, and her body responded before her mind caught up. Heat pooled between her thighs. Her nipples hardened beneath the thin shirt she was wearing, the only thing she had on since it was too hot for anything else.

She hated her body for betraying her.

”No,” she said, and reached for the door to slam it shut.

Dante’s hand was faster. His palm pressed against the wood with casual strength, and he pushed the door open like she was nothing. Like her attempt to keep him out was adorable rather than a legitimate refusal.

”Don’t,” he said simply.

”Get out,” Isabella said, her voice sharp. Angry. Desperately trying to hide the way she wanted him to do the exact opposite. ”Get the fuck out of my apartment, Dante. Now.”