Six Months Contract With The Mafia God

”We will,” Dante replied. ”In a few days. After we have Eve. After Dimitri’s been broken. Then we can discuss what comes next with Isabella.”

”And what about the war with Dimitri? You really think he’ll surrender Eve just because we ask?”

”I think he’ll do whatever it takes to keep her alive,” Dante said. ”And that’s where we have him. We don’t need to kill him. We just need to make him understand that losing Eve is worse than any other fate we could inflict.”

Luca nodded slowly, accepting the plan even as his instincts screamed that something about this was going to go wrong.

But Dante had led them through worse. Had survived things that should have killed him. Had turned every setback into an opportunity.

And now, with Isabella waiting in Rome and Eve about to be extracted and Dimitri distracted by his war with his own father, maybe this time the impossible would actually work.

Maybe this time, Dante would finally win.

***

Twenty-four hours until extraction.

Dante stood on the roof of the safe house, his leg strong enough now to support his weight without significant pain. The New Jersey skyline spread below him, the distant lights of Manhattan visible on the horizon.

And in Rome, Isabella was waiting.

Dante thought about her often now. About her vulnerability. About the way she responded to his touch. About the fact that she still loved Dimitri despite everything.

But love was temporary.

And once Dimitri was broken, once he understood what defeat looked like, once he saw Isabella in Dante’s arms and understood that he’d lost her permanently, then love would become hate.

And Isabella would be his completely.

Not through love.

Through obsession.

Through the shared understanding that they’d both been broken by Dimitri and they’d survive together because they had no other choice.

”We’re ready,” Luca said from the doorway.

”I know,” Dante replied, still looking out at the Manhattan skyline. ”We’ve been ready for a long time. Tomorrow, we just finally prove it.”

”What happens if Dimitri responds with something we can’t predict?”

”Then we adapt,” Dante said simply. ”And we keep moving forward. That’s all we can do.”

***

The car pulled up to the safe house at 3:47 PM.

Dante heard it before he saw it. The engine cutting off. The doors opening. The footsteps on the concrete.

He was standing at the window, watching, when Isabella emerged from the vehicle.

She looked exactly as he remembered. Dark hair falling down her back. Curves that made his cock hard just looking at them. That face....aristocratic, beautiful, haunted by something she couldn’t quite name.

But there was something different about her now.

She looked scared.

That was new.

The guards escorted her inside, through the secured entrance, past the checkpoints. Luca met her in the main corridor, said something low and reassuring that Dante couldn’t hear from his vantage point above.

Then she was moving deeper into the safe house.

Toward him.

Dante’s hands clenched into fists.

He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her until he saw her. Hadn’t understood how much of his waking thoughts had been consumed by her face, her body, the memory of her moans.

The door to his office opened.

And Isabella stepped inside.

For a moment, they just looked at each other.

Two months of separation. Two months of him bleeding in New Jersey while she waited in Rome. Two months of obsession building in his mind until she became more real than reality.

”Dante,” she said, her voice soft and uncertain.

He moved.

Crossed the distance in seconds, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her with all the desperation and possession and raw hunger that had been building inside him.

She gasped against his mouth, surprised, then melted into him.

Her hands came up to his chest, and he could feel her heartbeat accelerating, could smell the perfume she wore mixing with something uniquely her.

When he finally broke the kiss, she was trembling.

”I missed you,” she whispered.

”No,” Dante said, his voice hard. ”You didn’t miss me. You were waiting for me. There’s a difference.”

”Dante.....”

He kissed her again, cutting off whatever explanation she was about to give. Because he didn’t want explanations. Didn’t want to hear about her time in Rome or her father or any of the thousand complications that had kept them apart.

He just wanted her.

”Come,” he said, taking her hand and leading her deeper into the safe house, toward the private quarters where he’d been recovering.

”Wait,” Isabella said, trying to slow down. ”I need to understand what’s happening. Why did you bring me here? What’s going on?”

”You’re here because I need you,” Dante said simply. ”And you came because you couldn’t say no. Because you never can say no to me.”

Isabella’s face went red, but she didn’t argue.

Because he was right.

They reached his bedroom, and Dante locked the door behind them.

The space was large, luxury, dominated by a California king bed and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Jersey City.

”How are you feeling?” Isabella asked, noticing the slight way he moved, the lingering traces of injury. ”Luca told me you were shot. That you were injured....”

”I’m fine,” Dante said, pulling her closer. ”I’m recovered. I’m functional. And I’m so fucking desperate to have you that I’m about to lose my mind.”

He pulled her shirt over her head.

She didn’t resist.

Her bra came next, and then she was standing in front of him half-naked, her dark eyes wide and uncertain and hungry all at the same time.

”Dante, we should talk. There’s so much I need to tell you about what happened in Rome, about my father, about...”

”I don’t care,” he said flatly. ”I don’t care what happened in Rome. I don’t care what your father did or said or threatened. I only care about this. About you. About reminding you that you belong to me.”

He unbuttoned her pants, pulled them down along with her underwear, and suddenly she was standing completely naked in front of him.

His cock was so hard it was painful.

”Dante,” she breathed, reaching for him.