Torn Between The Mafia Boss and The Billionaire

Chapter Two

6:30AM

The sun was now coming up, and Eleanor could barely get any sleep; neither could she eat any of the food that was brought to her. She looked out the window and could barely see anything but armed men downstairs. She decided to gather some courage and leave the bed for the first time since she got there, so she went to the other available door in the room that wasn't the exit and opened it. She saw it was a bathroom, so she got in and took a shower. Afterward, she clothed herself with the shower robe she saw just by the bathtub.

Now she decided to step out of the room.

She opened the door and saw two hefty armed men on both sides of the door and immediately went back inside and slammed the door.

She was not expecting that.

She decided to try again now that she was familiar with that fact. So she opened the door again and stepped outside and down the stairwell, where she saw the most majestic living room she had ever beheld. She was awestruck and stood staring at all the lights and beauty of the living room.

“Thought you'd never come down.”

The voice immediately sent signals down her spine and jolted her out of her hypnosis. She turned around to see the mysterious, scary yet insanely attractive man from yesterday; Dante.

“I-I just thought to see exactly where I am,” she stammered as she turned around to look at him.

“I already told you last night,” Dante said as he looked down at her with an emotionless face.

His stare was still as cold as ever, just like last night, but Eleanor couldn't understand why she was somehow drawn to it.

“You only said it was in a den; that explains nothing,” Eleanor replied with every ounce of courage in her body.

“What do you know about the Hounds?” Dante asked as he lit the cigarette in his mouth.

“What's that?” Eleanor asked confused.

“Your question should be why is that,” Dante asked, walking towards the balcony. “Walk with me.”

“I don't think why is that would be the appropriate question,” Eleanor replied.

“Alright then, what do you know about the crime underworld,” Dante asked as he opened the door to the balcony, displaying the vast expanse of land that surrounded them with countless foot soldiers; armed gangsters crawling in it.

“Listen, sir, I'm just a regular receptionist. I work a 9-5 job, and I know nothing about crime, not to talk of some Hound stuff,” Eleanor explained.

“What does this tattoo mean to you?” Dante asked as he finally turned to her and lifted his shirt to display a bold tattoo of a wolf-like creature’s head on his left chest.

Eleanor gasped, but for two reasons. First, because she had never seen a shirtless man look this good in her life. The level of definition to his core muscles, the width of his chest, the outline; it was astonishing, and she lost herself staring for a couple of seconds. Secondly, because she had seen the image tattooed on his chest on the news, and they were many times branded as a local terrorist group, and that was when it clicked!

“You're Dante, Dante Alvarez of the Hounds!” Eleanor exclaimed with her hand over her mouth.

Dante dropped his shirt and resumed his smoking, leaning on the balcony barricade and looking out away from her.

“The more you know,” he said with a calm cold voice.

“Is it true? What they say about you in the news?” Eleanor asked softly.

“Every last thing,” Dante replied with the same tone.

“Why? Why do you do it?” Eleanor asked with concern and fear written all over her face.

“Why do we do anything we do?”

“Are you proud of it?” Eleanor asked.

“What kind of question is that?”

“Answer it,” Eleanor retorted with a boldness she could not explain.

Dante straightened up.

“I can't answer that question, woman,” Dante replied still looking outside.

“Well, at least look me in the eye.” She felt like retracting those words the second they left her lips; she knew very well the effect his deadly stare had on her, but somehow she liked it.

Dante turned and looked at her; he stepped closer.

“This good enough for you?” He asked with a cold expression and a husky voice.

“No,” Eleanor replied. At this point, she was certain her mouth had a mind of its own, as she barely thought the words when they left her mouth.

Dante dropped his cigar and stepped closer to her, making their bodies meet slightly.

“How about now?”

“N-”

Dante crashed his lips into hers just before she could complete her reply.

It was waterworks for Eleanor; she suddenly realized how moist the inside of her thighs had become but immediately lost all sense of self as they continued to kiss passionately.

Dante put his wide arms on her waist.

She felt her body quiver at his touch. What was going on, what was happening to her? Why is her body responding like this to a man she barely knows, a criminal mastermind. A mafia boss. She searched her mind for explanations but couldn't find any; she didn't want any.

Dante lifted her off the floor and onto a couch at the balcony and began to kiss her neck. She began to moan softly; she became even more wet, more than she knew was possible.

“Dante,” she moaned.

“Shh,” he replied as he slowly untied the knot holding her shower robe together.

“People would see,” Eleanor moaned.

“What do I care?” Dante replied.

How could he say that, that sounded so selfish. But why did it turn her on even more? Eleanor was not even sure she was herself at this point. It felt like she was in someone else’s body.

Eleanor wrapped her legs around his waist, and her hands pulled off his shirt on their own accord.

“Stay with me,” Dante said as he looked her in the eye.

“I have nowhere else to go.”