The Devil's Touch

**CHAPTER 5**

*Dante's POV*

The evening was supposed to be routine: a few conversations, a reminder to everyone that I was untouchable, and then I’d leave. Simple. Predictable.

But nothing about tonight felt predictable anymore.

Elena Torres.

Her name echoed in my mind like a challenge, and no matter how much I tried to focus, my thoughts kept circling back to her. There was something magnetic about the way she moved through the room—graceful, yet unassuming. She didn’t belong here, not with these wolves circling.

And yet, she stood tall, her emerald eyes sharp as they absorbed everything around her. She wasn’t naive. No, she was far too clever for that. She was watching, learning.

It was dangerous.

I lingered at the edge of the room, my drink untouched as I tracked her movements. She didn’t know it, but every smile she offered, every polite nod, was a gamble. These people could smell weakness, and I wondered if she realized the game she’d been forced to play.

“You’re staring,” Enzo muttered under his breath, his tone laced with amusement.

I shot him a warning glance. “She’s not what she seems.”

“No one is in this crowd,” he replied.

He wasn’t wrong, but something about her felt different. I wasn’t sure if it was curiosity or instinct that kept me focused, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was more important than anyone here realized—even herself.

Then it happened.

A man approached her, his smile too wide to be genuine. Matteo Greco. The name alone sent a spark of irritation through me. He was a mid-level player, a man who talked too much and thought too little.

He leaned in too close, his body language possessive. She stiffened, her polite smile faltering, and I saw her take a small step back.

I was moving before I even realized it.

Crossing the room in measured strides, I reached them just as Matteo grabbed her arm. His grip wasn’t harsh, but it was enough to make her tense.

“That’s enough,” I said, my voice low and lethal.

Matteo froze, his head snapping toward me. His expression shifted from annoyance to fear as he recognized me. “Dante… I didn’t realize—”

“You didn’t realize what?” I asked, cutting him off. My gaze flicked to his hand still on her arm. “That you were making a mistake?”

He dropped his hand immediately, his face pale. “I meant no disrespect.”

“Leave.”

Matteo stammered out a quick apology before disappearing into the crowd, his tail tucked firmly between his legs.

Elena turned to me, her expression a mixture of confusion and defiance.

“I didn’t need your help,” she said, her voice steady despite the tension in the air.

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her response. Most people would have been falling over themselves to thank me. “Didn’t look that way to me.”

Her green eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought she might argue. But then she sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thank you,” she muttered, though it sounded like the words physically pained her.

I smirked. “You’re welcome.”

Silence stretched between us, charged with an energy I couldn’t quite define. Up close, she was even more captivating. The confidence in her posture, the fire in her gaze—it all drew me in like a moth to a flame.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said finally, my tone soft but firm.

“Why not?” she shot back. “Because I’m a woman? Because I don’t fit into your world?”

“Because this world will chew you up and spit you out,” I said bluntly. “People here don’t play fair.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not here to play.”

Her words surprised me, and for the first time in years, I felt the flicker of a genuine smile. This woman had fire, and it wasn’t just for show.

Before I could respond, the sharp crack of glass shattering broke through the air. The room fell silent for a split second before chaos erupted.

Gunfire.

Instinct took over as I grabbed Elena’s wrist, pulling her behind me and toward cover. Screams echoed through the grand hall, and people scattered like ants, desperate to escape.

“Stay low,” I ordered, my voice firm as I shielded her with my body.

“What’s happening?” she asked, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to stay calm.

“An ambush,” I growled. “Someone’s making a statement.”

My eyes scanned the room, locking onto the source of the attack. Three men, armed and masked, were firing indiscriminately into the crowd. My blood boiled as I recognized the insignia on their jackets. The Montessi family.

They’d just declared war.

Enzo appeared at my side, his weapon already drawn. “Boss, we’ve got to get you out of here.”

“Not without her,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Elena looked at me, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and defiance. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.”

“This isn’t the time,” I snapped.

But even as the chaos raged around us, I couldn’t deny the truth—I’d just pulled her into a war she wasn’t ready for. And whether she liked it or not, she was now under my protection.

The devil’s touch, they called it. And tonight, it seemed I’d just marked her as mine.