Chapter Fifteen — Shadows Always Watch
842 Words
Dante’s POV
The night was silent. Too silent.
Dante liked silence. It made people uncomfortable. It made them think something was wrong—even when everything was exactly as he planned.
He sat in the penthouse office of his private club, watching the city lights shimmer below like dying stars. Two fingers of whiskey swirled in a crystal glass, untouched. His mind wasn’t on the drink.
It was on her.
Alessia Romano.
No—Katherine Rowland.
He’d gotten the file just hours ago. His men had trailed her, pulled her records, dug into her past. And what a beautiful web of lies she’d spun.
An American. Undercover. Using a fake identity. Working directly under Massimo. And the fool let her in without a second thought.
Dante smiled coldly.
“People are the easiest to break when they think they’re in love,” he said aloud, mostly to himself.
She wasn’t just a weakness in Massimo’s armor.
She was the crack in his soul.
He leaned back in his chair, swirling the whiskey again. His reflection in the glass was calm, polished. But his mind—his mind was always calculating.
“She’s either the best liar I’ve ever seen,” he murmured, “or she’s already caught in something deeper than she planned.”
A knock on the door.
“Enter,” he said without turning.
One of his men, Luca, stepped inside. Nervous, as usual. Dante liked that about him. Fear kept people sharp.
“We have a visual,” Luca said. “Tonight. Club Nero. Massimo took her again.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And?”
“She stayed close to him. Danced with him. Whispered things in his ear. Looked like... more than just business.”
Dante smiled, slow and deliberate. “Good. Let her fall harder. Let him fall too.”
He stood, moving to the tall windows. His reflection watched him—a man made of darkness and charm.
“I want her watched,” he continued. “Every step, every look. I want to know what she eats, who she calls, what she dreams about.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And when the time is right…” Dante turned, his eyes like steel, “we take her.”
Luca blinked. “Kidnap her?”
“No,” Dante said, chuckling low. “We invite her. We make her see what Massimo really is. Then we let her decide.”
“And if she chooses him?”
“Then she burns with him.”
---
Later that night, Dante walked through his private casino beneath the club. Every step he took made people tense. Bartenders straightened up. Dealers got quieter. Eyes followed him, carefully.
He was power. He was fear. He was the shadow that Massimo tried to ignore.
In the back lounge, he met with an old associate—Marco Rizzi, a corrupt politician with ties to both families.
“You're making waves,” Marco said, sipping his wine. “Massimo doesn’t like waves.”
“Massimo likes control,” Dante replied. “But control is fragile. All you need is one good push.”
Marco raised a brow. “And the girl?”
“She’s the push,” Dante said. “Massimo is blinded by her. He thinks he can protect her from me. But he forgets... I always go for the heart.”
Marco whistled low. “She’s got you curious.”
“She’s got me watching,” Dante corrected. “There’s a difference.”
But was there? A part of him wasn’t sure anymore.
She moved like a whisper. Smart eyes. A quiet fire. Not the usual type to get involved in mafia mess. And yet—she was neck-deep already. That made her interesting. That made her dangerous.
And dangerous women? Dante liked them most of all.
He leaned in toward Marco. “Sooner or later, Massimo will have to choose. Her or the empire.”
“And you’ll make sure he loses both.”
Dante raised his glass. “Exactly.”
---
When he returned to his private suite, the night was deep and still.
He stood at the edge of his bed, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, watching his own face in the mirror.
“I wonder what you dream about, Katherine,” he murmured. “What you hide under that calm face.”
He imagined her standing before him—furious, scared, maybe intrigued.
Would she hate him? Or would she understand him?
He didn’t want to just ruin Massimo. That would be too easy.
He wanted to peel him open. Destroy his love. Break his control. Take what he cherished and twist it into something else.
And Alessia?
Maybe he wanted to break her too.
Or maybe... maybe he wanted her to understand the darkness in him. To choose him, not out of fear—but because she saw something Massimo never could.
Dante grinned darkly to himself.
He was going to have fun playing this game.
And no matter what happened...
Someone was going to bleed.
- Writer
