I Belonged To Him And I Never Knew

His Rules, Her Ruin DANTE The sound of leather against skin echoed, sharp, clean, final. No one spoke. They knew better. Dante stood near the warehouse window, watching the evening swallow the city. Lights flickered below. The kind of lights that made people feel safe. People who didn’t know what safety cost. He rolled up his sleeves slowly. Deliberately. A quiet warning to anyone still breathing in the room. There was blood on the floor. Someone else’s. Someone stupid. But Dante wasn’t angry. He didn’t believe in rage. Rage was messy. Weak. Unpredictable. He preferred silence. It was silence that broke them. “Boss.” Nico’s voice came from the corner, cautious but steady. “She’s resurfaced.” Dante’s fingers paused above his watch. She. She wasn’t supposed to matter. Just another face in a file. Someone tied to a name that crossed him once. But Alina wasn’t like the others. She didn’t beg. Didn’t look away. She smiled. Like she wasn’t afraid. Like she knew something he didn’t. He hated that smile. “Where?” he asked quietly. “Apartment downtown. Alone. For now.” Dante didn’t move. He simply picked up the cigarette he’d left burning on the edge of the table. The end was half ash. He took one drag and dropped it, crushing it with his boot. “Watch her,” he said. “No contact.” Nico hesitated. “Boss, we could bring her in” Dante turned his head slightly. Just a glance. Nico stopped breathing for a moment. “No contact,” he repeated. “Let her feel safe.” He wanted to see what she did when no one was chasing her. What choices she made when the room was quiet. That’s when people showed their truth. And he was done underestimating her. ... ALINA The air in the apartment felt thinner every day. Not because it was small. Because she was suffocating inside it. Alina sat by the window, legs curled under her, phone silent in her lap. The street below was noisy, alive, normal. She envied it. She hadn’t left the building in three days. She wasn’t hiding. That’s what she told herself. She was just… waiting. Watching. She rubbed her wrist, where the bruise was almost gone now. Faded like the voice in her head that whispered: "You shouldn’t have smiled at him." She didn’t mean to. It just happened. Like some part of her wanted him to know she wasn’t afraid. But she was. Not of Dante’s name. Or his power. Or the rumors. She was afraid because when he looked at her… She didn’t feel fear. She felt seen. And that was worse. A vibration broke the stillness. Her phone. Unknown number. Alina stared at it, chest tight. She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. She knew who it was. Or what it meant. They’d found her. And somehow… she wasn’t sure if she wanted to run.