"You liar."
The word hadn't even finished echoing when—
Click.
Both of us froze.
Dante's eyes snapped toward the dark vent, his hand instinctively reaching for the holster at his hip.
Someone was there. Someone had seen it all.
Dante smiled slowly, as if reassured by something I couldn't see.
Outside, crouched in the crawlspace with a heartbeat as steady as a stone, Sterling adjusted his earpiece.
He tapped his comms twice. A signal.
Sterling whispered, "sir, Dante has her....And I think he knows he's been watched."
Before I could process the shadow in the vent, the world went black again.
A heavy, sudden blow—then nothing.
I woke with a gasp, the air in my lungs feeling like ice.
My first instinct was to move, but a sharp clink stopped me dead. I looked down, and my breath hitched.
My wrists and ankles were bound by heavy, polished steel chains, anchored to the four corners of a massive, velvet-draped bed.
I looked around the room, and my blood turned to ash.
God have mercy.
This wasn't a bedroom; it was a sanctuary of depravity.
The walls were lined with an array of silk whips, leather restraints, and toys that looked more like instruments of torture than pleasure.
But the most haunting part?
The gallery.
Framed photographs covered the walls—Dante, in his rawest form, holding women whose names I'd never know. They were bound, weeping, or looking at him with a terrifying mix of fear and worship.
This was his Red Room.
The man who could separate a head from a body was the same man who wanted to break a soul into pieces.
I thrashed against the restraints, desperate to close my body off from the room's gaze. But the more I moved, the more the mechanical chains groaned, widening my legs further until I was completely exposed.
My skin felt different.
The grime of the basement was gone. I was dressed in a plush, white silk bathrobe, and my hair was damp, smelling of expensive lavender.
Every scratch from being dragged across the marble had been meticulously treated and bandaged.
He had cleaned me.
Like a doll.
Clink.
The chains tightened again as I struggled, pulling my legs to the very edge of the frame.
"You need to stop moving, Tesoro," a deep, husky voice vibrated through the room.
I gasped, looking toward the shadows where Dante stood, his silhouette blocking the door.
My face burned with shame as I tried to close my legs, but the mechanism held me firm, forcing me to remain open to his predatory stare.
"The more you struggle," he said, stepping into the dim light, "the more of you I get to see."
He didn't move toward me.
He just watched, his eyes dark with a hunger that felt like a physical weight.
"Listen to me, my sweet flower," he purred, his voice smooth as bourbon.
"I am a man of my word. I won't touch you without your permission. I won't take what isn't given."
He leaned against the bedpost, a cruel, confident smirk playing on his lips.
"I don't have to force you, Aurielle. All I have to do is wait. Eventually, the silence of this room and the heat in your blood will do the work for me. You won't just let me touch you… you'll be the one begging for it."
"Never!!"
"I am a married woman, Dante. I have a son waiting for me. Kieran… Kieran will find me, and when he does, he will burn your world to ash."
Dante's expression shifted.
The playful, predatory smirk vanished, replaced by a frown so cold it felt like a physical blow. My heart hammered against my ribs; his anger was a silent, suffocating thing—worse than his madness.
Then, he chuckled.
The sound was dark and jagged, sending fresh tremors through my bound limbs. I felt a momentary surge of relief that the silence was broken, but it was short-lived.
Neither version of Dante was safe.
He moved then, a blurred shadow of silk and malice.
He didn't just step toward me; he climbed, hovering over the massive bed until he was a cage of heat and muscle above me.
He leaned down, burying his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling my scent as if it were his only oxygen.
His hand moved, fingers grazing the swell of my breast.
I gasped, my back arching instinctively. But as I moved, the mechanical groan of the chains echoed through the room, widening my legs even further, forcing me to remain completely open to him.
A moan betrayed me, slipping past my lips before I could choke it back.
"See, Tesoro?" Dante whispered against my skin, his eyes dropping to where the chains held me taut.
"Your body is a liar. What would Kieran think if he knew his precious wife was here, yearning for the very man he hates?"
"I'll never… belong to you," I sobbed, even as my skin burned where he touched me.
"I'll never give in to your sick desires."
Dante didn't argue.
He simply nodded, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
He stepped back, moving toward a velvet cord near the wall. He pulled it, and a sharp, silver chime rang through the sanctuary.
The door opened.
A woman walked in.
She was stunning, dressed in black lingerie that left nothing to the imagination—She didn't look at me; her eyes were fixed solely on the monster at the foot of the bed.
Dante sank into the plush leather couch opposite, his gaze never leaving mine as the woman sank to her knees between his legs.
I watched, paralyzed, as she unbuckled his belt, her movements practiced and fluid.
A toxic heat flooded my veins.
It wasn't just horror; it was a sickening, sharp spike of jealousy. I hated him. I wanted to kill him.
But as I watched her take him, a low, shameful moan escaped me.
My mind screamed for Kieran, but my body…
my body wanted to be the one on her knees.
The woman didn't just leave; she performed. Before exiting, she paused at the door, casting a sharp, victorious smirk over her shoulder at me.
Dante stood, and the sight of him made the breath die in my throat.
His length was still thick, still hard, unapologetically so beneath the dim red light.
Her touch had been for his release, but his hunger was still fixed entirely on me.
He caught me staring, my eyes wide with a mix of horror and a traitorous heat I couldn't extinguish. A low, gravelly chuckle vibrated through the room. "What is it, Tesoro? Is it bigger than Kieran's?"
I snapped my head away, my face burning as I heard the click and slide of his belt buckle.
He took his time dressing, letting the silence stretch until I was wound as tight as the chains holding me.
He approached the bed. He didn't unbind me—not yet.
He stood at the foot of the frame, staring at the way the mechanical groans of my earlier struggle had forced my legs to remain wide, pinning me in a state of total, agonizing exposure.
His gaze dropped to my inner thighs. A single, glistening trail of wetness flickered down my leg.
Dante let out a sound that was half-growl, half-purr.
He reached out, his thumb catching the drop, tracing a slow, deliberate path from the curve of my knee back up to the source of my shame. I shivered, my entire body jolting at the contact.
Then, he did the unthinkable.
He brought his hand to his mouth, his eyes locked onto mine as he licked the moisture from his fingers.
"You're dripping for me," he rasped, his voice thick with unhinged satisfaction. "I haven't even touched you yet, and you're already crying for me between your legs."
"Dante, let me go," I choked out, my voice breaking. "Please. Just let me go."
"I will never let you go. You are the piece of the crown I bled for, killed for, waited for. If I have to burn Kieran, erase your past, and teach you to breathe only when I allow it."
I gasped, "Kieran will kill you," I spat, trying to find some remnant of my pride. "He's the King of this city. He will find me, and he will end you."
Dante straightened, a manic, beautiful light in his eyes. "Speaking of my dear cousin... I'm sure Kieran is losing his mind right now, hunting for his little wife."
He added, "Kieran is playing checkers while I'm burning the board. He thinks his little 'spy' in the vents is a secret. He thinks he's coming to the rescue you like a hero in a fairy tale."
He leaned down, his fingers finally reaching for the mechanism of the shackles.
"But I am always three steps ahead, Aurielle. Kieran won't find you here," he said as the first lock clicked open, freeing my left wrist.
"Because I have plans for you that he couldn't imagine in his darkest nightmares. By the time he sees you again, you won't even remember his name."
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