Seducing My Father's Killer

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 3

Summer's POV

"Wear the red dress."

I stared at the garment bag hanging on my apartment door, delivered sometime while I'd been at work today, and my hands shook as I unzipped it to reveal the most expensive piece of clothing I'd ever seen in my life.

Blood red silk that would cling to every curve like a second skin, completely backless, with a slit that went so dangerously high it might as well be illegal.

My phone buzzed with a text from Dante: And nothing underneath. I want to know you're bare for me during dinner tonight.

Heat flooded my face because he was absolutely insane, because there was no way I could wear this to any kind of dinner meeting, because the thought of being completely naked under that thin silk while sitting across from him made my entire body ignite in ways I refused to acknowledge.

I texted back with shaking fingers: This is completely inappropriate.

His response came immediately: You signed a contract. Wear the dress exactly as I specified or don't bother showing up at all. And if you don't show up, you're fired and blacklisted from every company in this city.

I threw my phone across the room and screamed into my pillow because I hated him with every fiber of my being, hated how he controlled absolutely everything, hated how my traitorous body was already responding to his command.

Three hours later I stood in front of my full-length mirror barely recognizing the woman staring back at me.

The red silk clung to my body like it had been painted on, the fabric so thin I might as well be naked, and without anything underneath I felt exposed and powerful and absolutely terrified all at the same time.

Dante's car arrived at exactly seven o'clock, and when I slid into the back seat wearing nothing but that sinful dress and heels, his eyes went absolutely molten.

"f*****g perfect," he breathed, reaching over immediately to run his hand up my bare thigh, fingers exploring until he found exactly what he'd demanded, "You actually did it. No bra, no panties, just my girl in red silk."

"You didn't give me much choice," I snapped, but my voice came out breathless and wanting.

"I always give you choices, piccola," Dante said, his hand sliding higher until I gasped and grabbed his wrist, "You just keep choosing me. Keep choosing this. Keep choosing us."

He tormented me the entire agonizing drive to the restaurant, fingers teasing and stroking but never quite giving me what my body was desperately begging for, and by the time we arrived I was trembling with need and absolute fury.

The restaurant was obscenely exclusive, the kind of place that didn't even have prices on the menu because if you had to ask you couldn't afford it, and when we walked through the door every single head turned to watch us.

Watch me.

Dante's hand was possessive and burning hot on my lower back as he guided me through the elegant dining room, and I felt every eye on my barely-covered body, felt the weight of being displayed as his property.

"Mr. Moretti," the hostess breathed like his name was a prayer, "Your private dining room is prepared and waiting."

We were led to a secluded space with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city, and sitting at the table were three men who looked like they'd killed people with their bare hands and enjoyed every second of it.

"Dante," the oldest one said in a thick Russian accent, standing with a smile that absolutely didn't reach his ice-cold eyes, "And who is this absolutely stunning creature?"

"Summer Hayes, my personal assistant," Dante replied, pulling out my chair with one hand while the other remained possessively on my hip, "Summer, this is Mikhail Volkov and his associates. We're discussing a potential partnership tonight."

Mikhail's eyes traveled over my body in a way that made my skin crawl, "She is very beautiful. You always did have exceptional taste in acquisitions, my friend."

"She's far more than beautiful," Dante said, and I felt his hand slide to my thigh under the table as I sat down, "She's brilliant, loyal, and completely mine. Remember that."

The threat in his voice was unmistakable.

Dinner was absolute torture from the very first course.

Plate after plate of expensive food arrived while the men discussed weapons trafficking and money laundering in thinly coded language, and Dante's hand never left my body, slowly driving me insane with teasing touches that made it impossible to think straight.

"The Konstantin family is becoming quite the significant problem," Mikhail said casually, sipping wine that probably cost more than my monthly rent, "They're expanding aggressively into territory that affects both our operations."

My breath caught at that name again, and Dante felt my reaction because his hand tightened on my thigh in clear warning to stay silent.

"The Konstantins won't be a problem much longer," Dante said with deadly calm, "I'm handling it very personally."

"How personally?" Mikhail asked with obvious interest.

"Alexei Konstantin will be dead within the month," Dante replied, and his hand slid higher on my thigh until I had to bite my lip hard to stay completely silent, "Along with every single person who supports him or his organization."

"That's quite bold," Mikhail murmured appreciatively, "The Konstantins have very powerful friends in the Russian Bratva."

"So do I," Dante said, and suddenly his fingers were exactly where I needed them most, moving in devastatingly slow circles while he continued discussing brutal murder like it was nothing at all.

I gripped the edge of the table desperately, trying to keep my face neutral while Dante played with me under the silk, and I'd never hated anyone more or wanted anyone worse in my entire life.

"You seem rather distracted, Miss Hayes," Mikhail observed with a knowing smile that made my face burn.

"Just fascinated by the conversation," I managed, voice strained and shaking.

Dante's fingers pressed harder and I nearly moaned out loud, "Summer is very interested in learning all aspects of my business operations, aren't you, piccola?"

"Yes," I gasped, and one of Mikhail's associates smirked like he knew exactly what was happening under this table.

The dinner continued with me barely able to breathe, barely able to think, completely at Dante's mercy as he brought me right to the edge of climax over and over without ever letting me fall over it.

By the time dessert finally arrived, I was shaking desperately, ready to beg him for release.

"Excuse us," Dante said suddenly, standing and pulling me up with him, "I need to discuss something privately with my assistant immediately."

He practically dragged me down a hallway to a private bathroom, shoved me inside, and locked the door behind us with a decisive click.

"You did so incredibly well out there," he growled, hiking up my dress roughly, "Staying perfectly quiet while I touched you, keeping that beautiful face neutral while you were falling apart inside."

"I hate you," I panted, but my hands were already frantically pulling at his belt.

"No you don't," Dante said, lifting me effortlessly and pinning me against the wall, "You hate how desperately you want this. Want me."

He entered me in one brutal thrust that made us both groan, and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he f****d me against the bathroom door with his hand clamped over my mouth to muffle my screams.

I came so hard I saw actual stars, my entire body shattering completely in his arms.

"Mine," Dante breathed against my neck as he found his own release, "Every single f*****g piece of you belongs to me."

When we returned to the table twenty minutes later, my lipstick was thoroughly smudged and his normally perfect hair was completely disheveled.

Mikhail smiled knowingly, "Partnership accepted enthusiastically. Any man who can multitask quite that effectively is definitely someone I want as my ally."

In the car ride home, I stared out the window trying desperately to process what I'd just done.

I'd let my father's killer f**k me in a restaurant bathroom.

Let him use my body while casually discussing murdering people who might have

answers about my father's death.

And the absolutely worst part was I'd loved every devastating second of it.