Deadly Devotion

Chapter Eight: Divided Loyalty

I moved into Dante's apartment that weekend.

It was surreal, packing up my cover apartment and bringing everything to his place. Watching him make space in his closet for my clothes. Clearing a drawer in the bathroom for my things. Acting like this was a normal couple doing normal couple things.

Not an FBI agent moving in with the mobster she was about to destroy.

"This is perfect," Dante said, watching me hang dresses next to his suits. "You belong here."

I forced a smile. "It feels right."

It felt like a countdown. Every moment, every touch, every word was shadowed by the knowledge that in less than three weeks, it would all be over.

That night, unpacking boxes in his living room, my phone rang. Unknown number.

"I need to take this," I said. "Work thing."

I went into the bathroom, locked the door, answered.

"Agent Santos." It wasn't Chen. It was Director Morrison, her superior.

My blood went cold. "Sir."

"We have a problem. Agent Chen tells me you're emotionally compromised. Living with the target now. Is that accurate?"

"It's part of maintaining my cover."

"Bullshit. You're in too deep. I'm pulling you out."

"No. Sir, please. We're so close."

"Exactly. We're close. We don't need you anymore. We have enough evidence. You've done your job. Now it's time to extract before you do something that jeopardizes the entire operation."

"I won't jeopardize anything."

"You already are. Chen says you're having nightmares. Getting emotional. Hesitating on certain intelligence gathering. That's not acceptable."

"Give me the three weeks. Let me finish this."

"Why? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't pull you right now."

Because I need to tell him. Because he deserves to hear it from me. Because I love him and I owe him the truth.

"Because I'm the one who's been with this family for weeks. I know the dynamics. I can provide context during the arrests. Make sure nothing goes wrong."

Silence. Then, "Two weeks. You have two weeks. Then you're out, whether the raids happen or not. Understood?"

"Understood."

He hung up.

I sat on the bathroom floor, head in my hands.

Two weeks. Not even three anymore.

Fourteen days to figure out how to tell Dante that I was the one who'd been betraying him all along.

The next few days were tense.

Marco was around more. Watching me with suspicious eyes. Making comments that had double meanings.

"You've gotten very comfortable here," he said one evening when I was at Dante's office building, bringing him dinner. Dante had stepped away to take a call, leaving Marco and me alone in the reception area.

"Dante asked me to move in. I'm just doing what he wants."

"Right. What he wants." Marco leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Funny how fast you went from stranger to live in girlfriend. Most women take months to get that close to my brother. You did it in weeks."

"When you know, you know."

"Or when you have an agenda." His eyes were cold. "I've been doing some more digging on you, Mia. Your story still checks out. But something feels off. Can't quite put my finger on it."

"Maybe your instincts are wrong."

"My instincts are never wrong. And they're telling me you're not who you say you are."

"Then tell Dante. Let him decide."

"I will. Soon. Once I have proof." He pushed off the wall. "Just know that I'm watching. And when I find what I'm looking for, you're done."

He walked away, leaving me standing there with my heart pounding.

Marco was getting too close. If he kept digging, kept pushing, he might find something that exposed me before I was ready.

I needed to speed up my timeline. Tell Dante soon. Before Marco could.

That night, in bed, Dante sensed my tension.

"You're worried about Marco," he said.

"He doesn't trust me."

"He doesn't trust anyone. It's not personal."

"It feels personal."

Dante rolled on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress. "Forget about Marco. He's not important right now."

"What is important?"

"This." He kissed me deeply. "Us."

His hands moved over my body, pushing up my shirt. I arched into his touch, needing the distraction. Needing to forget everything except the feel of him.

He pulled my shirt off, then my bra. His mouth found my breast, sucking my n****e into his mouth. I gasped, my hands fisting in his hair.

"I love your t**s," he said against my skin. "Perfect. Just perfect."

His hand slid down my stomach, into my underwear. His fingers found my p***y, already wet and ready for him.

"Always so ready for me," he murmured, stroking slowly. "So wet. So perfect."

"Dante, please."

"Please what?" He circled my c**t, just enough pressure to make me squirm.

"More. I need more."

He pulled my underwear off, spread my legs wide. His eyes traveled over me, hungry and dark.

"I want to taste you."

He lowered his mouth to my p***y, his tongue licking through my folds. I cried out, my hips lifting off the bed. He held me down, his tongue working me expertly, alternating between long slow licks and quick flicks against my c**t.

"Oh god. Dante. Don't stop."

He added his fingers, two of them sliding inside me, curling to hit that spot that made me see stars. His tongue never stopped, licking and sucking my c**t while his fingers worked inside me.

The orgasm built fast and hard. I came with a scream, my p***y clenching around his fingers, pleasure washing through me in waves.

Before I could recover, he was over me, his c**k pressing against my entrance.

"Look at me," he said.

I did. His eyes were intense, burning into mine.

"I love you," he said. "Whatever happens, whatever comes. I love you."

"I love you too."

He pushed inside me, filling me completely. We both groaned at the sensation.

He moved slowly at first, each thrust deep and deliberate. His hands pinned my wrists above my head, holding me in place.

"You're mine," he said. "Say it."

"I'm yours."

"Again."

"I'm yours, Dante."

His pace increased. Harder, faster, his c**k driving into me with force that bordered on desperate. Like he was trying to claim me. Own me. Make sure I never forgot this.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, taking him deeper.

"Touch your c**t," he ordered. "Make yourself come on my cock."

I slid my hand between us, found my c**t, still sensitive from his mouth. A few circles and I was there, falling over the edge with his name on my lips.

My p***y clenched around him, and he followed immediately. His rhythm broke, his c**k pulsing inside me as he came hard, filling me.

We collapsed together, both breathing hard, covered in sweat.

"I want to marry you," he said suddenly.

I went still. "What?"

"Not right now. But soon. I want you to be my wife. I want it official. Legal. Permanent." He lifted his head to look at me. "I know it's fast. But I'm sure. I've never been more sure of anything."

My heart was breaking. Actually breaking.

"Dante..."

"You don't have to answer now. Just think about it. Think about being mine. Completely. Forever."

Forever. We didn't have forever. We had less than two weeks.

"I'll think about it," I whispered.

He kissed me softly, then rolled to his side, pulling me against him.

"I'm the luckiest man alive," he said. "To have found you."

I closed my eyes and felt tears slide down my cheeks. Silent. Invisible in the dark.

He thought he was lucky. He had no idea that the woman in his arms was the one who was going to destroy everything.

The next morning, while Dante was in the shower, his phone rang.

Salvatore.

I shouldn't answer. But some instinct made me pick it up.

"Dante?"

"Mr. DeLuca. It's Mia. Dante's in the shower."

A pause. "Mia. Good. I wanted to talk to you anyway. Come to the house this afternoon. Three o'clock. Just you."

"Is something wrong?"

"Nothing wrong. I just think it's time we had a conversation. Woman to man. About my son's future."

My stomach dropped. "Does Dante know about this?"

"He will. But I want to talk to you first. Three o'clock. Don't be late."

He hung up.

This was bad. This was very bad.

When Dante came out of the bathroom, I told him about the call.

His expression darkened. "He wants to see you alone?"

"That's what he said."

"I don't like it."

"It's fine. He's your father. He probably just wants to get to know me better."

"My father doesn't do social calls. If he wants to see you alone, he has a reason." Dante pulled out his phone. "I'm calling him."

"Don't. Let me handle this. He's reaching out. That's good, right? It means he's accepting me."

"Or he's testing you."

"Then I'll pass the test."

Dante looked at me for a long moment. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

I wasn't sure at all. But I couldn't let him know that.

That afternoon, I drove to the DeLuca estate alone.

Salvatore was waiting in his study. A masculine room, all dark wood and leather, filled with books and photographs of family.

"Mia. Thank you for coming." He gestured to a chair across from his desk. "Sit."

I sat. He studied me for a long moment.

"My son wants to marry you."

Not a question. A statement.

"He mentioned it."

"And what did you say?"

"That I'd think about it."

"Smart. Don't seem too eager." He leaned back in his chair. "You understand what marrying into this family means?"

"I think so."

"No. You don't. Because Dante has been keeping you separate from the business. Protecting you. But if you marry him, that protection ends. You become part of this family. Part of everything we do."

"I understand."

"Do you? Do you understand that my son is going to be the head of this family someday? That he'll be responsible for hundreds of people, dozens of businesses, relationships that span decades?" His eyes were sharp. "Do you understand what that will require from you?"

"Loyalty."

"Loyalty. Silence. Strength. The ability to look the other way when necessary." He paused. "Can you do that?"

No. Because I'm the FBI agent who's been gathering evidence against you. Because in less than two weeks, I'm going to watch your entire family get arrested.

"Yes," I said. "I can do that."

"I don't believe you."

My blood went cold.

"Marco has concerns about you," Salvatore continued. "He thinks you're hiding something. That you're not who you say you are."

"Marco is paranoid."

"Marco is careful. There's a difference." He pulled out a folder. "I had someone look into you. Very thoroughly. Your background, your business, your history. Everything checks out. On paper, you're exactly who you say you are."

"Because I am."

"Maybe. But something doesn't sit right with me. Call it instinct. Call it experience. But I don't fully trust you."

"Then why did you invite me here?"

"Because my son loves you. And I love my son. And if he wants to marry you, I won't stand in his way. But I will make sure you understand the stakes."

He opened the folder, pulled out photographs. Spread them on the desk facing me.

They were crime scene photos. Bodies. Blood. Violence.

"This is what happens to people who betray this family," Salvatore said quietly. "This is what happens to informants. To undercover agents. To anyone who thinks they can infiltrate us and walk away."

I forced myself to look at the photos. To not show any reaction.

"Why are you showing me this?"

"Because I want you to understand. If you're genuine, if you truly love my son, then we'll welcome you. You'll be protected. Part of the family. Safe."

He leaned forward.

"But if you're lying. If you're using him. If you're here for any reason other than love..." He tapped one of the photos. "This is what happens."

It was a threat. Clear and direct.

"I love Dante," I said, keeping my voice steady. "That's the only reason I'm here."

He studied me for a long moment. Then nodded slowly.

"I hope that's true. For your sake. Because if I find out you've been playing my son, there's nowhere you can hide that I won't find you."

"I understand."

"Good." He gathered up the photos, put them back in the folder. "You can go. Tell Dante we had a nice conversation. That I gave you my blessing."

I stood on shaking legs. Made it to the door.

"Mia."

I turned back.

"One more thing. Whatever you're thinking about doing. Whatever decision you're wrestling with. Choose carefully. Because once you make it, there's no going back."

He knew. Somehow, he knew.

Or maybe he just suspected. Was testing me. Waiting to see what I'd do.

I left his study, made it to my car, drove three blocks before I had to pull over.

I threw up on the side of the road. Hands shaking, heart racing, complete panic setting in.

Salvatore knew. Or suspected enough that he was warning me.

I had to tell Dante. Now. Tonight. Before Salvatore acted on his suspicions.

I pulled out my phone, called Chen.

"I need out. Now. Salvatore suspects something."

"What happened?"

I told her about the meeting. The photos. The threat.

"s**t. Okay. We move up the timeline. Raids happen in one week. Can you hold out that long?"

"I don't know."

"You have to. We're almost there. Just one more week. Then you're out and safe."

"He threatened me, Chen. Showed me photos of dead bodies."

"I know. I'm sorry. But we're so close. If you bolt now, they might run. Destroy evidence. We need this week to coordinate everything."

"What if they kill me before then?"

"They won't. Dante loves you. That buys you protection."

Dante loves me. The man I'm betraying loves me. That's the only thing keeping me alive.

"One week," Chen said. "Can you do it?"

I thought about the photos. About Salvatore's cold eyes. About Marco's suspicions.

I thought about Dante. About the way he looked at me. The way he said he wanted to marry me.

"Yeah," I said. "I can do it."

"Good. Stay close to Dante. Don't be alone with Salvatore or Marco. And for god's sake, don't do anything stupid."

Too late. I'd already done the stupidest thing possible.

I'd fallen in love with my target.

And now it was going to get us both killed.