Pregnant for the Mafia Devil

Chapter 8

"Boss requests for you." The big steel doors, which have been locked for weeks finally pulled open.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure today?” My words were sarcastic as I stared at Marcel.

“He’s waiting for you now,” Marcel said. “Would you like to get changed?” He asked me, but I shook my head instantly, as such words brought terror deep within me in remembrance: “Shall we, Miss Rossi?” Marcel asked.

“Yes.” I accepted. Fear still trembled me, as even if I had been treated much differently than before but still locked up in a room, I still recall events of the past few weeks vividly, such that I never want to be in a position like that anymore. “And where is Dante?” I asked Marcel, as I stepped foot outside of the room for the very first time.

“Boss is having breakfast,” Marcel answered me. Perhaps it was the orders Dante gave to Marcel or not, but Marcel always treated me gently, unlike his other men, who, even when they brought food or anything, their demeanor showed how much they hated me. But Marcel, was different.

My gaze moved delicately in each way as we walked with Marcel and no doubt, where I was trapped was a mansion, but not some old haggard one. The mansion was a masterpiece of wealth and power. Dark wood and cream marble walls trimmed with gold, stretched through long hallways, illuminated by warm wall sconces that cast soft shadows across the polished floors. Expensive artwork lined the corridors, while discreet security cameras watched from hidden corners.

And as we furthered, a grand staircase connected the upper bedrooms to the lower floor, leading to a spacious dining hall where a long mahogany table sat beneath a glittering crystal chandelier. And from there I could see a figure at the head of the dining table

Dante.

Every corner of the mansion radiated luxury, authority, and quiet danger.

“Miss Rossi,” Marcel’s voice came, taking my attention to him, and I realized I had stopped in my tracks while staring.

“Sorry,” I smiled lightly at Marcel before we proceeded down the stairs.

“Boss,” Marcel hinted Dante as we reached him, one whom I was certain he knew but focused on the plate of food in front. “She’s here.” He added.

“You can leave Marcel.” Was all he told Marcel and he left immediately.

Authoritative ass.

“Sit. I presume you haven’t had breakfast.” Dante didn’t so much as take his gaze to look at me as he spoke.

He definitely was not speaking to me.

I rolled my eyes and didn’t oblige a word Dante said, while my gaze wandered the luxurious dining room. “Elena,” Dante’s voice came, as I looked back at him and found his gaze now on me.

“Oh, you do know my name. Thought you were speaking to a dog earlier.” I seemed to take Dante back with my words, as he raised a brow at me.

“I said, sit down.” Now Dante’s tone showed he was done playing any petty game I was in on, as his gaze stayed hard on me that I couldn’t resist and pulled a chair to sit. The table was filled with a variety of food that could feed at least twenty people.

“Are you having guests?” I asked and Dante’s gaze rose back to mine.

“No. Why do you ask?” Dante’s tone was still hard with me.

“There’s a lot of food,” I told him.

“I had them made for you.” Dante dropped the fork in his hand, as he now faced me. “Marcel tells me you haven’t been eating.” He raised a brow as his gaze remained intent on me. Dante stared at me so much that I had to take my own gaze away. “You do not like the food?” Dante asked me.

“No, it’s not that,” I answered, still with my gaze away. I turned back my gaze, seeing as Dante still had a raised brow, as though telling me to continue speaking. “I have no appetite,” I said.

“Which is why, you have varieties now,” Dante told me.

“I have no appetite because I wish to leave.” I completed my words. Instead of getting a response from Dante, he picked up his fork and continued eating his steak. “Dante,” I called him.

“Elena.” He answered. His gaze slightly rose to me, and when they met my own, something crept in my stomach. His eyes filled with so many stories I could only imagine, the debt of his stare sending shivers down my spine at the same time engulfing me, that I started to get mixed feelings.

“I want to leave.” I took my gaze away abruptly.

“You can leave when I’m dead,” Dante spoke bluntly, as if I was meant to cower at his words, but something in me didn’t, rather my gaze went to the table knife on the dining table, running wild with thoughts. In an instant, my gaze went away to the sound of Dante chuckling.

His back leaned against the chair, with his lips curved in a perfect curve that I noticed him laugh for the first time and I had to bat my eyes twice not to feel drawn at the sight in front of me, but deep down my mind, I knew it was the most beautiful laugh I had ever heard.

“You can try your luck, Elena. Go ahead.” Dante gestured towards the knife I looked at. “Just know, I’m not going to be easy to kill.” He told me, as shame enveloped me for even having such thoughts.

When did I become this?

My lips parted to speak, but I closed them back, upon hearing shouts of men, and gunshots, whereas Dante stood up in a flash and pulled out a gun from behind him.

Is he always walking with a gun?

“Dante, what’s going on?” My heart now began thumping fast, as I saw his stance and demeanor change. There was no time for Dante to answer me when Marcel came running to him.

“Marcel, what’s happening?” Dante spoke.

“Boss…” I don’t know if it was just me but I saw a glint of terror in Marcel’s eyes. “We’re under attack.”