MY MAFIA MATE

CROSSING THE LINE ⚡

Elena’s fingers trembled as she reread the message for the tenth time. The glowing screen of her phone cast a pale light across the dark hotel suite. Marcus snored softly behind her, oblivious, his arm thrown carelessly over the pillow. She should have deleted the text. She should have blocked the number and gone back to bed like a loyal wife.

Instead, she typed:

Elena: I can’t. This is crazy.

The reply came almost instantly, as if Dante had been waiting.

Dante: Crazy is staying in a loveless marriage and pretending you’re satisfied. My office. 8 PM. Don’t make me come find you, Elena.

A shiver raced down her spine. The threat shouldn’t have excited her, but it did. She slipped the phone under her pillow, heart racing, and tried to sleep. It never came.

The next day dragged in a haze of guilt and anticipation. Marcus left early for meetings, kissing her cheek absentmindedly and promising they’d celebrate properly later. Elena spent the afternoon wandering the city, trying to talk herself out of going. By 7:45 PM, she was standing in front of Moretti Tower in a simple black trench coat over a wine-red dress she told herself was just for confidence.

The elevator ride to the top floor felt eternal. When the doors opened, the entire executive level was dimly lit, empty except for the soft glow coming from the corner office. Dante’s office.

She hesitated at the threshold.

“Come in,” his voice commanded from inside.

Elena stepped forward. Dante stood by the massive windows, jacket off, white shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal powerful forearms. The city sparkled behind him like a kingdom at his feet. He looked every inch the ruthless ruler he was rumored to be.

“You came,” he said, turning to face her. His dark eyes devoured her slowly, from the heels she’d chosen to the nervous way she clutched her coat.

“I shouldn’t have.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Dante crossed the room in three strides. He didn’t touch her not yet but he stood so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Take off the coat, Elena.”

She swallowed hard. “Dante…”

“Now.”

Her hands moved before her brain could protest. The trench coat slid to the floor, revealing the fitted dress that hugged her curves. Dante’s gaze darkened with raw hunger.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Too beautiful to waste on a man who doesn’t appreciate you.”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. The simple touch sent electricity crackling across her skin. Elena’s breath hitched.

“This is wrong,” she whispered, even as she leaned into his hand. “I’m married.”

“To a man who left you alone at my party.” Dante’s voice dropped lower, dangerous. “To a man who doesn’t see what he has. I see you, Elena. I’ve seen you since the moment you walked into my building.”

His fingers trailed down her neck, stopping at her racing pulse. “Tell me to stop and I will. But we both know you don’t want that.”

Elena closed her eyes. Every rational part of her screamed to leave. But the ache between her thighs and the fire in her chest won. She opened her eyes and met his intense stare.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

The words had barely left her lips before Dante’s mouth crashed down on hers. The kiss was not gentle. It was claiming fierce, demanding, and full of weeks of pent-up tension. He tasted like whiskey and power. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against his hard body. Elena moaned into his mouth, fingers threading through his dark hair.

Dante lifted her effortlessly, setting her on the edge of his massive mahogany desk. Papers scattered to the floor, but he didn’t care. His lips moved to her neck, sucking and biting just hard enough to make her gasp.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he growled against her skin. One hand slid up her thigh, pushing the dress higher. “Every time Marcus brought you to events, I imagined bending you over my desk just like this.”

Elena’s head fell back as his fingers teased the lace edge of her panties. She was already soaked. The danger, the guilt, the overwhelming desire it all mixed into something intoxicating.

“Dante… please…”

He pulled back slightly, eyes blazing. “Please what? Say it.”

“Touch me.”

His fingers slipped beneath the lace, stroking her with expert precision. Elena cried out, gripping his shoulders. He watched her face the entire time, drinking in every moan, every tremble. When he slid two fingers inside her, her hips bucked against his hand.

“That’s it,” he praised darkly. “Let go for me. I want to see you come apart.”

The pleasure built fast and brutal. Elena came hard, biting his shoulder to muffle her scream as waves of ecstasy crashed through her. Dante held her through it, murmuring filthy praise in her ear.

When she finally caught her breath, reality began to creep back in. She was in her husband’s boss’s office, legs spread, dress hiked up, lipstick smeared.

Dante kissed her again, slower this time, almost tenderly. “This is only the beginning, Elena. I’m not letting you go back to him. Not anymore.”

She should have argued. She should have felt shame.

Instead, she pulled him closer for another kiss, knowing she had just crossed a line there was no coming back from.