In Love With The Mafia Kings Son

Chapter 19

The club was a dizzying assault on the senses—a massive, high-ceilinged space where expensive dress and raw energy collided. The music was a relentless, thrumming beat that vibrated in Letty's chest, a welcome distraction from her own racing heart.

Dante guided the group past the velvet ropes with the casual arrogance of royalty. Their destination was a sprawling VIP section elevated above the main floor, lined with plush, black leather seating. It felt less like a section and more like a throne overlooking the entire club.

Isabella, Dylan, Marcus, and Lisa immediately settled in, calling for bottle service. Letty, still slightly unsteady from the margarita, was pulled along by the inertia of the group.

Dante didn't ask where she wanted to sit. He simply pushed her gently into a corner seat, where the darkness offered a measure of anonymity, and then positioned his own massive body on the cushion right beside her, effectively boxing her in. His proximity was overwhelming, his arm resting on the back of the plush banquette directly behind her head.

Before the waiter could even pour the first round of vodka, Chloe made her move. Her rejection in the parking lot had fueled her fury, and she wasn't about to lose her territory publicly. She gracefully slid onto the seat on Dante's other side, leaning into him, her revealing dress offering a blatant physical counter-claim.

"That was amazing, baby," Chloe purred, her voice loud enough for Letty to hear over the music. She gently placed her hand on Dante's massive thigh, her fingers beginning a slow, possessive caress. "I'll come back to your room tonight."

Letty froze, the familiar, sick knot of shame and fear tightening in her stomach. Chloe's bold, physical assertion was painful to watch. The raw display of intimacy made Letty feel small, insignificant, and terribly out of place.

But beneath the shame, something else sparked: a sharp, intense surge of jealousy. It was a savage, hot emotion that surprised and terrified Letty, making her realize just how much of a claim she had internally ceded to Dante.

Dante, feeling the pressure on both sides, didn't look at Chloe. He kept his head tilted toward Letty, his eyes fixed on the waiter pouring the drinks. He gave Chloe's hand a small, dismissive squeeze and spoke in a low, cold tone.

"We'll see, Chloe."

His answer was a rejection, but it wasn't a final dismissal, and the jealousy twisted painfully in Letty's chest.

A waiter presented a fresh tray of drinks. Letty, determined to dissolve the sharp, painful edge of her emotion, grabbed the nearest glass. It was another Margarita.

She took a huge, desperate gulp. The strong, sweet alcohol hit her bloodstream instantly, chasing away the remnants of the earlier champagne. The burning in her throat was a welcome distraction from the burn of her jealousy and the humiliation of Chloe's presence.

"Slow down, scholarship girl," Isabella drawled, grabbing a handful of limes. "We just got here."

Letty ignored her, finishing the first Margarita in three quick swallows. She didn't want to be timid, exposed, or jealous. She just wanted to be numb.

She reached for a second glass. The night was just beginning, and Letty knew that if she was going to survive the next few hours, she needed more than compliance; she needed to disappear into the blur.

The low, heavy beats of the club suddenly shifted, and a familiar track surged through the speakers—"Can't Keep My Hands to Myself" by Selena Gomez.

"Oh my God, I love this song!" Isabella shrieked, instantly on her feet, dragging Lisa with her. Isabella grabbed Letty's arm, her grip surprisingly strong.

"Come on, Nicolette! Let's see what you got!"

Letty was going to decline, the anxiety about public movement still fierce, but the potent mix of the Margarita and the infectious energy of the moment overruled her trauma. Isabella was already pulling her out of the seat and dragging her across the sticky, pulsating dance floor.

They immediately formed a tight circle. Lisa and Isabella, bodies fueled by alcohol and uninhibited confidence, quickly sandwiched Letty. Isabella was positioned in front of her, facing her, while Lisa settled behind her. Their bodies were instantly rubbing against hers with the casual, sensual closeness of girls who owned the space.

Letty hesitated for a terrifying second, unsure of what to do with the intense, sudden physical intimacy. But the surge of confidence, a feeling entirely new and thrilling, won the battle.

She started to grind her body against them in return.

Isabella laughed, her head thrown back, her front pressing firmly into Letty's front. "There you go, girl!"

Letty felt completely free and, for the first time in her life, profoundly sexy. Isabella and Lisa’s hands added to the sensation, gently resting on her hips and back.

Letty threw her hands above her head and moved her body to the music, laughing and moving fluidly between the two.

Dante, back at the VIP banquette, was intently watching the entire display. The sight of Letty, transformed and uninhibited, laughing and grinding against his sister and Lisa, sent a brutal, sharp wave of desire through him. He bit his lip, his eyes dark with possessive hunger.

He felt a hand slowly making its way up his thigh. Chloe was leaning against him again, attempting to salvage her claim.

He shrugged her off, creating space. "Stop," he commanded, his voice cold.

Chloe scoffed, hurt slicing through her voice. "What's wrong? You always liked me touching you after a fight."

Dante tightened his jaw, his eyes never leaving the dance floor. "I'm not in the mood tonight."

His focus returned to Letty. Isabella spun, turning her back to Letty and grinding her butt against Letty's hips. Lisa rested her arms on Letty's shoulders, grinding her own body against Letty's back. Letty held Lisa's arms, her head thrown back, smiling and laughing freely between them.

Dante couldn't help but smile—a genuine, private reaction—at her raw, uninhibited joy.

Chloe followed his gaze. She saw Letty, her skin shining, her hips moving against Isabella's, radiating a happiness Chloe could never replicate. Tears pricked the corners of Chloe's eyes as the sad hurt of rejection settled in, but it was quickly replaced by a hot, visceral anger and raw jealousy.

Dante watched the uninhibited joy radiating from Letty on the dance floor, and the last of his self-control snapped. He pushed off the banquette and began to slowly walk toward her, cutting through the crowded floor with the casual authority of a king.

Isabella and Lisa saw him coming. They shared a knowing smirk and, with a subtle shift in their movements, slowly walked away, leaving Letty alone in the center of the crowd, eyes still closed, lost in the music.

The song shifted—the heavy, possessive beat of Kehlani’s "Gangsta" filling the club.

Before Letty realized she was alone, Dante was behind her. He gently glided his massive hand around her waist to her stomach and, with a deliberate, firm pressure, pulled her back against the solid front of his body.

Letty gasped lightly, freezing for a single, stunned second before realizing the familiar scent and overwhelming heat belonged to Dante.

He began to move, his large body grinding lightly against her smaller frame. Letty felt her pulse quicken immediately. The intoxicating dominance of his presence, combined with the explicit lyrics now filling her ears, commanded her response:

"I need a gangsta to love me better than all the others do..."

Subconsciously, her body had already made the decision. Letty responded to him, moving her hips in a soft, gentle grind against his.

Dante’s hands began to slowly roam her body, a possessive exploration of her waist and the exposed skin of her back. Letty leaned into the touch, craving the sensation, desperate for the intensity.

"I'm f****d up, I'm black and blue I'm built for the abuse..."

Dante was losing himself in the feel of her—she was warm, soft, and so small against his strength. For the first time, he wanted to let everything go, to lose himself in her scent, her warmth, and the sweet reality of just... her.

He leaned down, his mouth near her neck.

Letty’s breath hitched, her body entirely out of her control. She tilted her head to the side and back slightly, giving him better access, her submission a silent, burning invitation.

"I don't want, what I can get I want someone with secrets..."

Dante slowly glided his lips feather-light along the curve of her smooth, flawless neck, breathing her in. He was consumed by the urge to taste her skin, to confirm that she was as sweet as she smelled. He moved along her jawline, his warm breath fanning across her skin, making her knees weak and her core throb with a desperate need for sweet release.

"Please take me to places that nobody, nobody knows You got me hooked up on the feeling..."

Letty turned her head slightly, their faces inches away, their eyes locking.

The intimate, fragile tension was shattered by a load crash from their VIP table.

Dante and Letty instantly turned their heads toward the sound, Dante's predatory switch slamming back on. Chloe was standing beside the table, laughing hysterically, having just knocked over an entire tray of drinks directly onto Isabella.

Isabella was drenched—her aggressive glamour ruined—and her face was a mask of incandescent fury. She screamed, ready to start a vicious fight right there in the VIP section.

Dante huffed, a sound of profound annoyance. He knew his sister; a public brawl was moments away. It was time to go.

"It's over," he commanded, his voice firm as he pulled Letty away from the heat of his body. He steered her toward the exit, ignoring the chaos erupting behind them.