The breaking point
1004 Words
The air in the underground warehouse was thick with the smell of exhaust, cheap beer, and sweat. It was a world away from the marble floors and filtered air of my brother’s penthouse.
"Drink this," Jake said, handing me a plastic cup filled with something that smelled like battery acid.
I didn't hesitate. I downed it in one go, the liquid burning a trail down my throat. I wanted to feel something other than the cold sting of Dante’s rejection. I wanted to be the girl who belonged in a place like this—a girl who wasn't "pure" or a "brat."
"Let’s dance, Elena," Jake whispered, his hand settling on the small of my back. He pulled me into the crowd, and I let him.
The music was a physical force, a heavy bass that rattled my ribs. I closed my eyes and moved, trying to imagine I was anywhere else. But every time I spun, I looked for a ghost. I looked for a pair of dark, icy eyes that I knew wouldn't be there.
Dante’s Perspective
I stayed in the shadows, my back pressed against a damp concrete pillar. My heart was thundering so loud it drowned out the music.
I shouldn't have followed her. I should have gone to a club, found a woman whose name I didn't care to know, and buried my frustration in her. But the moment I saw Elena climb onto the back of that boy’s bike, my sanity snapped.
She was dancing now. Her emerald dress was hiked up, showing the smooth skin of her thighs. Every time Jake’s hand moved an inch lower, I felt a surge of violent possessiveness that made my vision blur. My staggering length was a constant, pulsing weight against my trousers, a reminder of the "Beast" I was trying to keep caged.
"She’s just a kid, Dante," I whispered to myself, the lie tasting like ash.
She wasn't a kid. She was a woman who was looking for trouble because I had been too much of a coward to show her she’d already found it.
I saw Jake lean in. He was whispering in her ear, his lips grazing her skin. Elena laughed, but it sounded forced—hollow. Then, Jake moved his hand, his fingers hooking into the hem of her dress.
That was it. The cage broke.
Elena’s Perspective
Jake’s touch was starting to make my skin crawl. He was leaning in for a kiss, his eyes clouded with a lust that made me feel small, not powerful. I started to pull back, my hand reaching for his chest to push him away.
"I think it’s time to go, Jake," I began, but the words were cut off.
Suddenly, Jake was no longer in front of me. A blur of movement sent him stumbling back into the crowd. A hand, large and calloused, gripped my upper arm with a force that made me gasp.
"We’re leaving," a voice growled.
I didn't need to look. I knew that scent—sandalwood and cold rain. Dante.
"Dante? What are you—"
"Shut up, Elena," he snapped, his voice a low, dangerous vibration. He didn't look at me. He looked at Jake, who was currently scrambling to his feet, looking terrified.
"You touch her again," Dante said, his voice dropping to a whisper that carried more weight than a scream, "and I will peel the skin from your back. Am I clear?"
Jake nodded frantically and disappeared into the shadows. Dante didn't wait. He hauled me toward the exit, his grip on my arm never wavering. He threw open the door to his SUV and shoved me into the passenger seat before slamming it shut.
He got into the driver’s side, the interior of the car suddenly feeling far too small. He didn't start the engine. He just sat there, his hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.
"Are you insane?" he roared, finally turning to face me. His eyes weren't icy anymore; they were burning with a dark, primal rage. "Do you have any idea what kind of men are in that place? Do you have any idea what they would have done to a girl like you?"
"A girl like me?" I shouted back, the tears finally falling. "You mean a brat? A kid? Why do you care, Dante? You told Leo I was a nuisance! You told me to stay with the children!"
Dante’s jaw tightened. He leaned over the center console, pinning me against the door. His face was inches from mine, and for the first time, I didn't see the playboy. I saw the man.
"I care because you’re a fool," he rasped, but his gaze dropped to my lips. His breathing was ragged. "I care because if anything happened to you, I would have to burn this city to the ground."
"Then why are you so mean to me?" I whispered, my heart breaking.
Dante didn't answer. He looked at me with a hunger so deep it terrified me. He reached out, his thumb grazing my lower lip, and for a second, I thought he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to. I wanted to taste the fire I saw in his eyes.
But he pulled back. He started the engine, his expression hardening back into that cold, indifferent mask.
"Because you're Leo's sister," he said, his voice flat. "And because I'm a man you should stay far away from, Elena. If you ever go back to a place like that, I won't just tell your brother. I'll lock you in your room myself."
He drove me home in silence. I sat there, confused and aching, not knowing that every time Dante shifted gears, he was trying to hide the way his unyielding thickness was thrumming with the need to pull the car over and claim me right there on the side of the road.
He hated himself for wanting me. And I hated myself for needing him.
- Writer
