To Ruin a Don

Rules

_Aria's POV_

I didn't really think he was actually going to shoot. I guess i misunderstood him when he said he hated me.

The gun went off, and I stood frozen in place as a bullet whizzed past my face, grazing my cheek.

My mouth opened and closed in shock as blood tickled down my cheek.

It was a near-miss. No… a warning.

He almost shot me. He had been so close to blowing my face off.

My ears rang, and my breath hitched in my throat.

I had thought he wouldn’t shoot. I thought he would aim elsewhere.

But the f*ck*r had aimed at my face.

I swear my whole life had flashed before my eyes right now.

The gravel under my bare feet dug in, but I still couldn’t move.

He actually fired.

He actually—

“Next time, I won’t miss,” Dante’s voice cut through my stillness, and

I raised my eyes to meet his stare.

It was cold, empty.

If I had thought this was going to be some sort of fairytale, he had just brought me back to reality.

“Keep running, and I’ll shoot to maim.” The look in his eyes told me that wasn’t an empty threat and he didn’t find it hard to send my dead body back to my father.

A heartbeat passed. And then two.

Then I rolled my eyes at him.

“At least buy me dinner before trying to blow my head off,” I snapped. My voice was shaky but the initial shock had worn off.

"Or is this how you flirt?”

Dante didn’t smile. Not even a twitch. Then he lowered the gun with infuriating ease, like this was nothing to him. Like I was nothing.

His boots crunched over the gravel as he walked towards me and I backed up. But I knew the iron gates behind me was locked.

I was trapped with nowhere to go.

I clenched my fists. If he thought I was just going to cry and beg, then he was dead wrong. I might be bleeding, barefoot and terrified—but I was still Aria Bianchi.

And I’d be damned if I made this easy for him.

Dante closed the distance between us in easy steps. And I didn’t wait.

I launched myself at him.

Was I weak? Yes. Bleeding? Definitely.

But I was still dangerous.

With a shout, I latched myself onto him, clawing at his arm with every bit of fury I had left. My nails raked down his biceps and I hoped to God I drew blood.

He didn’t even grunt.

Before I could go for a second swipe, he grabbed me roughly and spun me around like I weighed nothing.

I screamed, kicked, elbowed. Even landed a good bite on his forearm.

“You son of a--!”

My words were cut off when he slung me over his shoulder like a duffel bag.

“Put me down, you psychopath!” I thrashed wildly, hair flying as I kicked him numerous times. But he didn’t react to me.

Just a quiet grunt as he adjusted his grip on me.

This was embarrassing. Straight out humiliating.

I was hanging over his shoulders with my *ss in the air and my cheeks burned bright.

“Help! Kidnapper! Psychotic Uncle! Anyone?!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, not really expecting help from anywhere.

He didn’t even break stride as his voice came out flat and dry.

“You say that like they don’t already know.”

I growled and twisted harder. My hands found his hair—perfect, stupid, gel slick hair—and I yanked. Hard.

That stopped him.

Oh, so he cared about his hair.

His grip on me tightened, then suddenly he slammed me against the stone wall of the courtyard.

The wind knocked out of me in a single gasp and I blinked, stunned.

Dante was right there, holding me up so we were nose to nose as we stared at each other. He had one forearm braced across my collarbone to keep me pinned.

“PUT ME DOWN.” I growled out, the embarrassment of having my legs hanging in the air getting to me.

Our breath tangled between us. Mine—ragged. His—calm and controlled.

His eyes were blank as he stared at me.

He was too close and hadn’t said a single word too.

I swallowed hard as I braced myself for the worse.

“Are you going to hit me now, too?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

He didn’t even blink as he answered. “If you think this is a game,” he murmured, breath fanning my face.

“I’ll teach you the rules.”

And just like that, he pulled away, letting me drop to my feet as he fisted my shirt and pulled me away.

“I can walk.” I hissed, struggling to keep up with him as he threw his long legs forward.

My words seemed to pass right through his ears because he kept pulling me.

My feet barely touched the ground as Dante kept pulling me like a bag of thrash and at this point I was too exhausted to scream. I was sore, bruised, bleeding and still flipping him off in my head.

When we got to the room I had just tried to escape from, he shoved it open and tossed me inside like I didn’t cost millions in ransom potential.

The room was just how I had left it, except now I had two guards standing outside my door. And a shiny black dome camera blinked at me from a corner.

Has that always been there?

I stumbled forward, caught my balance and turned to slam the door in his face—

But his hand caught it and he pushed the door open.

Of course.

Dante stepped inside slowly and I crossed my arms and gave him a theatrical eye roll.

“What now? Shock collar? Leash? Are you planning on going full villain or just flirting with the idea?”

Because having guards AND a security camera seems a bit excessive.

The corners of his mouth twitched, it was just a little, but I didn’t miss it.

Then he turned to the camera, pressed a finger on the commute button and deadpanned:

“If she takes one step outside this room, shoot her in the leg.”

My mouth opened. Then stayed that way.

Wait.

Shoot me?

He must be joking. There is no way on earth he actually meant that.

I blinked at him.

“Are you serious?” I asked, my mouth still hanging open.

He didn’t answer, he just stared.

I swallowed, my throat was dry and then my fake smile twisted back into place like a defense mechanism.

“Wow. Family reunion is going great. Too bad mom is dead else this would have been terrific.”

That got him.

He moved fast. In two strides he was in front of me, standing so close to me, I could see the flecks of storm-grey in his irises.

Not yelling. Not raising his hands. Just ice-cold words.

He leaned into me but I didn’t move.

“I will break you… before I break your father.”

My breath hitched, but I didn’t let it show.

"Well go ahead then. Tell me if you want me to moan out your name as well," I hissed at him, my nose flaring.

We both glared at each other, my heart hammering against my chest as my smile disappeared.

.

If he thought I was going to be a weak little girl, he was in for a rough ride.