Chapter 5
1513 Words
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DANTE'S P.O.V
“What the actual f**k do you think you’re doing?”
Emma's voice sliced through the room the moment the door slammed shut behind her. Her eyes blazed with fury as she stalked across my office like a storm.
I leaned back in my chair, perfectly calm. “What?”
“Don’t ‘what’ me, Dante.” She was shaking now, fists clenched. “Selene doesn’t need people like us in her life. We’re tinted with blood and violence. She’s too pure, too good for this world we live in. She doesn’t deserve to be dragged into it just because you’ve decided she’s your new obsession.”
I narrowed my eyes, keeping my tone measured. “She’s not an obsession. She’s mine.”
Emma groaned in frustration. “You don’t even know her!”
“I know enough,” I said coolly. “I’ve seen her. I’ve felt her. She belongs with me, even if she doesn’t understand it yet.”
“She doesn’t feel the same, Dante.”
It was Lucas this time, arms crossed, jaw tight. “She’s scared. Terrified, actually. You crossed a line in that class today and you f*****g know it.”
“She won’t be afraid forever.” My voice dropped into something darker. “Once she knows she belongs to me, once she understands that I’d burn the world to keep her safe, she’ll stop running.”
“Jesus, man,” Lucas snapped. “You’re not hearing a damn word we’re saying, are you?”
“She doesn’t feel s**t, Dante,” Emma spat. “She’s not a piece you can just claim. You saw her flinch today. You humiliated her in front of the entire class. You don’t see love or fear—you only see possession.”
I stood up slowly, my voice deadly calm. “She is mine. And when she finally realizes it… nothing will take her from me. Not even you two.”
Emma’s eyes burned with frustration. “She deserves a choice.”
“She already made one,” I said, staring out the window with clenched fists. “She stepped into that club. She looked at me. Fate made its choice the moment our eyes met.”
SELENE'S P.O.V
The rest of the week, I spent successfully avoiding Dante.
Emma had been mostly with Lucas, leaving me alone, which was a relief. No run-ins. No blue-eyed stares. No unwanted touches that left my heart racing in all the wrong ways.
I was curled up in bed that evening, my laptop balanced on my thighs as I watched Arcane: League of Legends. The glow from the screen was the only light in the room. Peaceful. Normal.
Then a knock shattered the calm.
I paused the video, heart already picking up speed. Gently placing my laptop aside, I padded to the door and opened it—and nearly choked on air.
Dante.
He stood there, calm and unreadable, but his eyes were locked on me—or more precisely, on my chest. I followed his gaze and immediately flushed crimson. I was wearing my red satin nightdress, short and clinging. The cold air made everything worse.
Mortified, I stepped halfway behind the door so only my face peeked out. “Emma’s not here,” I said quickly, voice a whisper. Thank God I didn’t stammer.
“I’m not here for her.” His voice was low. “I’m here for you.”
Me? My voice cracked as I repeated, “Me?”
He nodded, then helped himself in. Just like that. No invitation, no hesitation. He gently pulled me out from behind the door and shut it behind us.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
I refused to look at him. My eyes danced around the room, avoiding his completely. But he stepped closer. Close enough that I could smell that intoxicating blend of leather, spice, and something darker.
His hand came up—slow, deliberate—and cupped the back of my neck, drawing me toward him.
“No…” I whispered under my breath, gripping his arm to pull away. “What do you want from me?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he kissed me.
Soft at first. Then deeper.
My heart thundered. I was too stunned to push him again. This was my first kiss—and I was frozen, caught in something I didn’t understand. When he finally pulled back, I stumbled a step away, breathless, confused, my lips still tingling.
He looked at me as if nothing unusual had just happened. “Will you go on a date with me?”
I blinked. “You want me to go on a date with you?”
“Yes. Tonight.”
My head moved side to side before I could even think—but he didn’t wait for my answer. “Ten minutes,” he said firmly, and then walked out the door.
Now here I am, sitting across from him in one of the most luxurious restaurants I’ve ever seen. He looked like he belonged here. Dominant. Regal. Untouchable.
And me? I felt like I was playing dress-up in a world I didn’t belong to.
Yet as we talked—small things, simple questions—I started to feel something I hadn’t in days: ease. Comfort, even.
God help me, I think I might be enjoying this night far more than I should.
SELENE’S P.O.V
Months dragged on, and Dante remained a constant, unsettling presence.
He sat beside me in every class without fail—his cologne always lingering, his eyes always watching. Every time someone tried to strike up a conversation with me, whether it was a guy from our literature class or a friend from the library, Dante was there. Silent. Intimidating. And they always backed off.
He didn’t threaten them out loud. He didn’t have to.
At first, I thought it was coincidental. But then it happened too often. Too precisely.
After our final exam, he cornered me again, asking—no, demanding—that I come to his house. For the third time that day.
“I’m sorry, Dante. I can’t go with you,” I said, my voice soft but firm.
“Why not?”
“I just… I can’t.”
That wasn’t the full truth, and we both knew it. Emma had warned me. Her voice, usually teasing and bold, had dropped to a near whisper when she said she didn’t trust his intentions toward me. And I believed her.
I had caught her and Lucas arguing more than once—angry, low voices in the dead of night. And whenever I asked what was wrong, they always brushed it off.
Even last night, I had walked in on a hushed but heated exchange between them, their faces tight with frustration. When they noticed me, their expressions shifted too quickly, plastered with forced calm.
I didn’t ask again. I knew they wouldn’t tell me the truth.
But something was definitely wrong.
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DANTE'S P.O.V
Her refusal stung more than I wanted to admit.
She didn’t say it outright, but I knew why she was rejecting me. Emma. Always Emma. Poisoning her mind with fear. Trying to protect her from me—as if I was some kind of monster.
Maybe I was.
But I also knew what I wanted.
And I wanted her.
Selene was mine. My queen, whether she knew it yet or not. My blood ran through the underbelly of New York and Italy, carving paths in both the legitimate and criminal worlds. I was the Don. I gave orders—I didn’t take them. Not from Lucas. Not from Emma. And not from a world that had never given me a damn thing without blood in return.
Emma didn’t understand. Lucas didn’t see the vision. They thought I wanted Selene for selfish reasons. Lust. Possession. Power.
They were wrong.
What I wanted was forever.
Bringing her home wasn’t just some romantic whim—it was necessary. She needed to see who I really was. She needed to know the world I would drag her into, the power I could hand her, the war I would wage just to keep her safe.
Even if it scared her.
Even if it cost me everything.
So when I looked at her today, something broke through the iron walls I had spent a lifetime building.
“I love you.”
The words spilled out before I could stop them.
She froze, wide-eyed, as if I had just spoken a foreign language.
“What?” Her voice cracked.
I stepped forward, closing the space between us until she had no choice but to meet my gaze. I didn’t blink. I wanted her to see the truth in my eyes.
“I love you, Selene.” I repeated, slower this time. Firmer.
And she did the one thing I wasn’t prepared for.
She turned—and ran.
She ran like I was the very devil they warned her about.
And maybe I was.
But even the devil gets what he wants.
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- Writer
