Isla’s pulse pounded as she sprinted down the long, dimly lit corridor, ignoring the frantic shouts from the guard who’d tried to escort her out. She only had one goal now-to find Dante.
The sounds of chaos filled the mansion. Sharp, angry voices, the clash of bodies, and the unmistakable echo of gunfire sent shivers down her spine. But the farther she went, the more determined she became. She would not hide or run this time.
Finally, she reached the grand stairwell, where she spotted Dante, standing at the center of it all, commanding his men with an aura of calm strength that was as magnetic as it was terrifying. He held a pistol in one hand and gave orders with a voice that was low and calm, even as bullets whizzed past him. He was in his element-completely focused and undeterred by the chaos erupting around him.
For a moment, Isla froze, unable to look away. The way he carried himself with utter control, unwavering and intense, made her chest tighten. But before she could call his name, one of the intruders rushed toward him with a knife. Dante sidestepped effortlessly, then delivered a powerful blow that sent the man sprawling to the floor.
“Dante!” Isla shouted without thinking, breaking her cover.
His gaze snapped toward her, his jaw tightening at the sight of her out in the open.
“Isla! I told you to stay hidden,” he barked, his tone harsher than she’d ever heard.
But before she could reply, two men stepped forward, aiming their weapons directly at her. She barely had time to react before Dante moved like lightning, firing at both men with precision, dropping them to the ground.
He crossed the floor to her in three strides, his hand gripping her arm. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice low but seething with anger. “I told them to keep you safe.”
“I wasn’t going to leave you here!” she protested, breathing heavily, her eyes blazing with determination. “Not after everything… I couldn’t.”
He looked down at her, something flickering in his gaze that she couldn’t quite decipher. Anger, yes, but something else too-a faint trace of admiration, and perhaps something deeper. He shook his head, as if trying to resist the effect her words had on him.
“Stubborn,” he muttered, his hand tightening on her arm before he pulled her close. “I swear you’re going to get yourself killed. You should’ve listened.”
For a split second, he looked at her as if he were deciding something. Then, with a low growl, he drew her even closer, his breath hot against her ear.
“You should know, Isla,” he murmured, his voice as intense as his gaze. “When I said you were mine, I meant it. That means keeping you safe, whether you want it or not.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off with a quick, fierce kiss, his lips possessive and unyielding. It was a kiss that held a warning, a command, and a promise all at once. When he pulled back, his gaze was as fierce as ever.
“Now, stay behind me,” he ordered, his hand sliding down to hold hers. “And don’t even think about letting go.”
He led her through the corridors, his grip firm and unyielding, while keeping his pistol at the ready. They moved quickly, his movements calculated and steady, as if he were entirely unbothered by the chaos around them. Isla couldn’t help but marvel at his calm under pressure, but it was more than that-there was a protectiveness in the way he shielded her, a possessiveness that left her both reassured and rattled.
As they approached a side exit, one of the intruders appeared out of nowhere, lunging at them. Dante pushed Isla behind him, blocking the attacker’s strike with a quick, brutal twist that sent the man crashing into the wall. He dropped the intruder with a swift, deadly blow, then turned to Isla with a look that brooked no argument.
“We’re leaving. Now.”
She hesitated, but his intense gaze made it clear there was no room for debate. They hurried through the door, exiting onto a secluded back path that led away from the mansion. Dante’s car was waiting at the end of the path, and he wasted no time in ushering her inside.
Once they were both seated, Dante started the engine and sped down the narrow road, his eyes fixed on the rearview mirror. Silence filled the car, heavy and thick, until he finally spoke.
“What were you thinking, coming out there like that?” His tone was softer now, but the tension was still evident.
Isla looked down, feeling both defiant and vulnerable. “I didn’t want to run away and leave you behind. I couldn’t… I couldn’t just abandon you.”
Dante’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “And what would you have done if something happened to you? This isn’t a game, Isla.”
She met his gaze, unyielding. “I know it’s not a game. I just… I couldn’t stand the thought of you facing all that alone.”
He let out a sharp breath, clearly frustrated, but she could see the flicker of something else in his eyes-something that softened his expression, if only for a moment.
“You’re impossible,” he muttered, though there was a trace of amusement in his tone now. “You keep breaking every rule I set for you.”
“Maybe because your rules are impossible to follow,” she shot back, her tone half-teasing, half-serious.
Dante shook his head, his mouth curving into a faint, reluctant smile. “You’re trouble, Isla. More trouble than I’ve ever dealt with.”
She felt a spark of satisfaction at his words, though she tried to hide it. “Guess you’ll just have to get used to it.”
He chuckled softly, a sound so rare it almost startled her. But just as quickly as it came, the humor faded, replaced by his usual intensity.
“You don’t realize how much you risked tonight,” he said, his voice low, almost vulnerable. “If anything had happened to you…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but she understood. The thought of him worrying about her, of him caring, left her speechless. She reached out, hesitantly placing a hand on his arm.
“I’m fine, Dante,” she whispered. “We both are.”
His gaze softened as he looked down at her hand, then back up at her. “Don’t make me regret keeping you by my side.”
There was a vulnerability in his voice that she hadn’t expected, a hint of the man behind the mask of the ruthless mafia leader. She squeezed his arm gently, feeling a surge of warmth despite herself.
“I won’t,” she promised softly, feeling the weight of her words settle between them.
They drove in silence for a while, the tension in the car easing as the adrenaline began to fade. Isla leaned back, her eyes drifting closed as exhaustion caught up with her. But just as she was starting to relax, she felt Dante’s hand brush against hers, his touch gentle and grounding.
“We’ll be safe here,” he murmured, glancing at her as they pulled up to a remote house surrounded by tall trees and thick foliage.
She looked up, blinking in surprise. “Where are we?”
“A safe house,” he replied, getting out and holding the door open for her. “No one will find us here.”
She stepped out, feeling the cool night air on her skin. Dante led her inside, his hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the dimly lit hallway.
As they entered the living room, he turned to face her, his gaze serious. “Get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”
She nodded, feeling a mix of relief and curiosity. But as she turned to head toward the bedroom, he caught her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.
“One last thing,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with intensity.
She looked up at him, her heart racing as his eyes searched hers, as if looking for something he couldn’t quite put into words.
“Don’t ever put yourself in danger like that again,” he said, his voice a mix of frustration and something deeper, something raw.
Before she could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against her forehead in a tender, fleeting kiss that left her breathless.
As he pulled back, she saw a rare, unguarded vulnerability in his gaze, something that told her more than words ever could. She nodded, unable to speak, and watched as he turned and disappeared down the hall, leaving her standing alone, her heart pounding and her mind spinning with questions she wasn’t sure she wanted answered.