CHAPTER 3 :FIRE AND ICE
232 Words
Days turned into weeks. She became a regular at The Black Rose, not as a patron, but as the boss’s girl. Everyone knew not to touch her. Some whispered she was his mistress. Others said she was just a stray he picked up for pity.
Neither was true. Yet.
Dante didn’t touch her. Not like that. He was respectful. But commanding. One word from him, and the world around her obeyed. And yet, when they were alone, she saw glimpses of the man beneath the power.
The soft way he looked at her when she was lost in thought. The silent rage in his eyes when she returned with a bruise after a street deal gone wrong. The way he had her apartment guarded, but never told her.
One night, after a particularly violent skirmish between rival gangs, she found him in his office with blood on his knuckles.
She didn’t flinch. She brought a wet cloth and knelt beside him, wiping the blood away.
“You don’t need to do this,” he murmured.
“I want to.”
Their eyes met.
He leaned forward, his forehead resting against hers.
“I’m not a good man, Amara.”
“I’m not a good woman either.”
He kissed her.
It wasn’t gentle. It was years of longing and pain crashing into one moment. It was desperation. Hunger. Fire and ice.
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- Writer
