Chapter 2
His sudden move made my scalp prickle with fear.
My fingers suddenly went limp, and the gun slipped from my hand, hitting the carpet with a dull thud.
Dante glanced at the gun on the floor, then looked up and flashed a smile.
"Is that all you've got, Isabella?" Dante said.
The next second, everything spun out of control.
Dante grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder.
He swallowed my scream with a fierce kiss, his lips and tongue leaving me breathless.
I'd never felt such raw emotion from him in all these years.
His eyes were rimmed with red, like a beast gone wild.
Tears, mixed with sweat, trickled from the corners of my eyes.
But I didn't give up.
My fingers crept toward the hilt of the dagger.
The cold marble floor pressed painfully against my spine.
From the funeral hall, the priest's solemn prayers echoed faintly, dignified and reverent.
His husky voice was right by my ear.
"Call my name like you used to," he said.
I choked out a cold, mocking laugh.
"Bastard," I spat.
His eyes turned ruthless in an instant.
"Good." He released my chin and clamped his hand around my throat instead.
He didn't squeeze hard, but the threat was unmistakable.
Now!
I stabbed the dagger right between his shoulder blades with everything I had.
Go to hell! I'm dragging you down with me!
There was a sickening 'schlick' as the blade pierced his flesh.
Warm blood splattered across my hand.
Blood. No mistaking it.
Did I really pull it off?' I thought, disbelief flooding my mind.
Dante grunted, his whole body stiffening.
Then, he turned his head, slow and deliberate, locking eyes with me.
For the first time, those blue eyes showed something I couldn't make sense of.
Pain, shock, and... was that a hint of sadness?
"So you really want me dead?" Dante said, his voice low and raw.
The dagger barely sank in.
It didn't hit anything crucial.
He grabbed my wrist holding the dagger and slowly, inch by inch, pulled it out of his back.
Blood gushed out, soaking his black funeral suit in a dark, spreading stain.
It stained my vision red too.
He licked the blood off the tip of the dagger.
Then he lowered his head, sealing my lips with his bloodied mouth.
This time, he didn't bite.
Instead, he licked softly, the taste of blood lingering between us.
He mingled the blood from my lips, my mouth, and his own, making me swallow every drop.
"Our blood tastes just alike."
He said it softly, like a lover's whisper.
Even with blood seeping from his wound, his movements grew even more feral, as if he was trying to break every bone in my body.
He raised his head, fixing me with that predatory, hawk-like stare.
I was suffocating in that blood-soaked kiss, sinking deeper and deeper.
As my consciousness faded, I caught a glimpse of the shattered light in his eyes.
Before I passed out, one thought burned in my mind.
Dante, I will kill you.
I swear it.
In the days that followed, I was every bit the canary in a gilded cage.
Dante didn't bother locking me away.
I was free to roam anywhere I wanted in the estate.
Every exit was blocked except the front gate.
As the new Don, Dante asserted his authority and took over the Rossi Family's business with ruthless speed.
He moved fast, and his methods were downright brutal.
The old-timers who used to play both sides with Marco now didn't even dare to breathe in his presence.
In no time, he made it clear who was the new boss around here.
Me? As the widow of the old Don and the mistress of the new one, I was the most out-of-place person in the whole estate.
The servants' eyes were full of pity, contempt, and fear whenever they looked at me.
I didn't care.
All I cared about was killing Dante.
I never stopped hunting for a chance to take him out.
I tried slipping poison into his drink.
It was extracted from a plant in the estate garden... so plain, it never drew any attention.
The poison was colorless and tasteless, but lethal.
But that night, he didn't touch the drink at all.
Instead, he pinned me to the dining table and took me from behind.
Breathing hot against my ear, he drawled, "Baby, that oleander is blooming so beautifully."
I went cold all over.
I even tried to steal the gun from under his pillow.
But as soon as my fingers brushed the cold metal, a bigger, stronger hand grabbed mine.
In the darkness, he opened his blue eyes, their depths darker than the night.
"Can't sleep? Let me help you with that," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
That night, he pushed me to the edge until I was barely conscious.
Every time I failed, his revenge got even crazier... he pushed me further, like he was daring me to try again.
He let me know, loud and clear, that every scheme I tried was just a tease to him, nothing more than me playing hard to get.
This failure made me realize... I'm no match for him in a straight fight.
I needed a chance.
I needed a plan that was foolproof.
Then, someone totally unexpected appeared out of nowhere.
Leonard Rossi was Marco and Dante's paternal uncle and a senior elder of the Rossi Family.
At Marco's funeral, he was even more heartbroken than I was.
In everyone's eyes, he was a loyal elder who always put the family's interests above all else.
That afternoon, I was out in the garden, pruning roses.
Dante kept me trapped in the estate... this garden was the only spot I could actually breathe.
"My poor Isabella," Leonard said, his voice full of sympathy.
He sat across from me, his face full of heartbreak.
"Just look at you, you've gotten so thin," he said, his tone heavy with concern.
I curled my lips into a sarcastic smile.
"Guess I owe Dante for still being alive," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.