: What if it was drugged, or worse, poisoned?

Gianna’s POV

My mouth went dry as I backed away, each step slower than the last. Dante’s voice, deep and terrifying, sent a chill crawling down my spine.

This wasn’t a nightmare I could wake up from.

This was real.

Dante De Luca, the monster who shot my father, was real. Flesh and blood. And I was alone in his home with no way out. There was only one path laid out for me: to be his mistress. For life.

Terror pressed down on my chest. I couldn’t breathe. My lips trembled.

“God help me,” I whispered, barely able to get the words out. “This can’t be my life. I can’t belong to this monster.”

He tilted his head, amused.

Then he laughed, cruelly.

“No one’s coming to save you,” he mocked.

The dark humor in his tone pierced through my chest, driving the panic deeper. The room seemed to tilt, everything fading around me.

“I can’t be trapped here,” I muttered. “I refuse to be trapped here.”

My breathing quickened, and it felt like my senses slipped away from me.

“Help!” I screamed, eyes darting around the lavish living room until they landed on the massive steel door across the room. My adrenaline surged. That was it, the way out.

I didn’t think, I just ran. I threw myself at the door, gripped the handle with both hands, and yanked hard.

Nothing.

“Help!” I screamed again, banging my fists against the metal. “Please! Anyone, please!”

Suddenly a screen lit up on the wall beside the door, blinking cold blue text.

To open, enter code.

Dread crashed into me like a wave. I had no code. No way out. I was locked in.

Behind me, I heard him laugh again. He sounded amused, like I was putting on a show just for him.

“Little firecracker,” Dante murmured. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

I spun around, breathing ragged, but he was already there, towering over me.

“Surely you’ve figured it out by now,” he said, his tone colder than stone. “I own not just this building, but the entire estate. Even if by some miracle you got through that door, you wouldn’t make it ten steps. My men are stationed at every exit. You’d be dragged back to me, bleeding, if they’re feeling generous.”

His eyes darkened as he stepped closer.

I stepped back, one foot at a time, until my spine hit the steel door. His words made it clear, there was nowhere to run. I didn’t even know where I was or how to make it out.

Still, what was I supposed to do? Just give in?

I had to try. Who wouldn’t try to run from their father’s killer?

I opened my mouth to scream again, but before a sound could escape, he grabbed me. His hand clamped over my mouth.

“Strike one, little girl,” he hissed into my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Try that again, and I’ll punish you.”

My blood boiled with fear and fury. I wasn’t a child. I wasn’t some pet he could threaten into obedience. Rage surged up and took over.

So I bit him.

Hard.

He cursed under his breath and pulled back. I slipped from his grasp and stumbled away.

“Let me out of here!” I cried. “I’m not interested in being your whore!”

He looked at little bite mark on his palm,

and fury overtook him.

Before I could move again, he grabbed me and slammed me back against the door. The impact rattled through my bones.

I gasped, but it turned into a choked whimper as his hand wrapped tight around my throat and lifted me off the ground. My feet dangled in the air.

I clawed at his arm, kicking helplessly, lungs burning.

“Little girl,” he growled, his eyes burning into mine, “I could end it all right now. I could squeeze the life from you and watch your body hit this floor, and not lose a single hour of sleep.”

My vision blurred. My body trembled.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t think.

“Please,” I rasped, voice barely a whisper. “Stop. I can’t breathe.”

“Can’t you now?” he sneered, his grip loosening slightly. “And what exactly did you think, Gianna? That you could go against me and walk away?”

I shook my head wildly, tears spilling down my cheeks. My limbs started to go numb.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” I choked out. “It was a mistake. Just don’t kill me, please.”

The look in his eyes softened, just for a moment.

And then, slowly, he released his grip and let me down.

My feet hit the ground shakily, knees threatening to give out beneath me as I gasped for air.

Instinctively, my hand flew to my throat, coughing uncontrollably, each breath scraping against the pain circling there.

A painful reminder of how close I’d come to losing it all. I didn’t even know what I’d been thinking. How could I have been so reckless?

I didn’t want to see his face, not after feeling his fingers wrapped around my throat, squeezing the air out of me like I was nothing. A toy to be broken. A lesson to be taught.

But then I felt his arms, warm and strong, wrap around me. And before I could flinch, he lifted me with a startling gentleness, as if none of it had just happened.

I gasped again, stunned by the softness in his touch, but I knew better than to fight him now.

I knew exactly what he was capable of.

He walked across the massive living room with me cradled in his arms like a doll. Then he lowered me onto the velvet sofa carefully, as though I might break if he set me down too hard.

Still not knowing what to make of this version of him, I crawled away from him, just a few inches, but he reached out, brushing my hair gently away from my face.

His fingers trailed to my neck, slow and careful. His touch was soft, but it still made me tense. He examined the marks, fingertips grazing the skin he’d just tried to crush.

“It’s just faintly bruised,” he said, his voice tender now. “I’ll get you something for it.”

I simply nodded.

I didn’t trust myself not to say something provoking, and I didn’t want to risk angering him again.

Then he stepped back and looked at me with a coldness that made my blood run colder.

“That was strike two,” he warned.

“And by the third strike, you’ll regret you ever went against me.”

My heart stilled.

“You want to get punished, Gianna? Keep pushing.”

It was the first time he had said my name out loud, and for some unexplainable reason, shivers raced down my spine at the way the last syllable rolled off his tongue.

He rose without another word and crossed the room, pressing a button on a small control panel built into the wall.

A few seconds later, the massive steel door swung open, and a woman walked in. She looked like she was in her forties, and she held a silver tray with a glass of water.

“Here, young lady.” She offered the glass with a kind voice, though her eyes darted between me and Dante like she was scared for me.

I blinked at her. How could someone who looked so decent, so normal, work for a man like this?

Then I felt his gaze on me again.

I slowly reached for the glass, my hand shaking. The woman gave me a quiet nod, then stepped back. She and Dante exchanged a single glance. Nothing was said, but she passed something to him that I couldn’t quite make out.

And their mannerism told me everything I needed to know about their relationship. They’d probably worked together for a long time. Maybe she had seen worse. Maybe she was used to it.

My dad had taught me how to read people’s body movements in one of the many lessons he put me through. Now I wished I had paid more attention when he spoke, but I had been too busy living a sheltered life, never knowing the day would come when I would be all alone.

The glass shook in my hand as I stared down at the clear liquid.

It looked normal, but I didn’t feel safe.

My thoughts raced. What if it was drugged, or worse, poisoned?

: Finding Out My Father Is Still Alive

Gianna’s POV

“Do you think I’m going to poison you?” Dante asked suddenly, his voice much calmer than it had any right to be.

My fingers shook around the glass, then, slowly… I nodded.

A dry chuckle left his lips, as though he was mocking my response. “If I wanted you dead,” he said coldly, “you’d have been dead the moment you passed out in my car.”

When I didn’t respond, he let out an irritated sigh, grabbed the glass from my hand, and took a sip himself. Then he pushed it back toward me.

“Drink it, now. You’ll need your strength. And you’ll need to stay hydrated… for what I have planned tonight.”

I wanted to ask what he meant, but changed my mind. The less conversations I had with this man, the better for me.

So I tipped the glass back and gulped down every drop. Only then did I realize how thirsty I was, how dry my throat had been as the cool liquid slid down my throat. I drank like I hadn’t seen water in days.

When I was done, he took the glass from my hand and set it on the side table.

Then, without speaking, he retrieved something from the tray the woman had brought in earlier. A small tube.

He opened it, dipped his fingers inside, then sat beside me once more.

I tensed.

“Relax,” he voice was low and reassuring.

His fingers brushed against my neck again, this time with cool gel between them.

The tenderness of it made my skin shiver.

My body jerked involuntarily at the contact, but he pulled me closer, holding me steady with his other hand.

“Stop moving,” He commanded. “Or else you could smear it all over your body.”

“Alright.” I replied softly.

He moved slowly, carefully, applying the ointment in soft, circular strokes into my skin.

And I hated that it felt good.

That his touch was gentle and soothing sent little sparks dancing beneath my skin.

Once he was done, he let his fingers linger just a second too long before pulling back.

“Does it feel better?” he asked.

I hesitated, my voice thin and brittle. “…Yes.”

“Good,” he said, his tone shifting again, colder. Distant.

As if whatever part of him that showed me kindness… had already vanished.

And the monster I feared was back.

The contradiction of this man was enough to make me dizzy.

Then he tilted my face up with a rough, confident grip, forcing me to meet the cold darkness in his eyes.

“I expected you to be a little shaken,” he said, his tone flat, almost amused. “But not this damn stubborn. Or downright obnoxious.”

How dare he call me stubborn?

After everything he’d put me through, threatening to sell me, shattering what little life I had left, he still expected me to just nod and obey? What kind of delusional world did this man live in, where no one challenged him?

His voice was laced with irritation as he continued.

“I thought, knowing your life was at risk, you’d be grateful and accept my offer willingly. Knowing that I'm the best option you have.”

I folded my arms across my chest, more to hide how badly I was shaking than to look defiant. “How am I supposed to be sure you really are my best bet?”

His eyes narrowed. “Well, for one,” he leaned closer, “you can be sure I would never auction you off to another man. I’m the only man you’ll ever belong to.”

I couldn’t help it, my eyes rolled before I could stop myself. The way he said it, like I was supposed to feel grateful that only one man would own me. How sick was that?

He caught it. Of course he did.

His stare hardened. “Can you say the same about those vile men at Vincenzo’s club?”

I matched his gaze. “Maybe you should let me go so I can find out for myself.”

Dante's mouth curved into a tight, mocking smile. “I’ve given you more grace than most, firecracker. But you’re bent on making this harder than it needs to be.”

“I’m not trying to be difficult,” I replied, my voice shaky. “I know you don’t have a conscience, but if there’s even a piece of one left in you, then try to understand… all of this is new to me. My father is dead. I was sold to the man who killed him, like an object. And now I’m supposed to just… adjust to the mafia world overnight? I don’t even understand any of this.”

He didn’t speak. Just looked at me.

My throat burned as I forced out the rest.

“If this is all about revenge… if my father’s truly dead… then why not just kill me, instead of torturing me slowly?”

Dante let out a low, cruel laugh.

“Moments ago, you were begging me to spare your life. Now you’re asking me to end it?”

He tilted his head mockingly. “Interesting.”

“That’s not what I meant….”

But he cut me off, eyes gleaming coldly.

“The reason you’re still alive is because Lorenzo escaped. I shot him, but he got away.”

The words hit me hard. Shock tore through me like a lightning bolt.

“That’s not possible,” I breathed. “I watched you shoot him. He fell... there was blood...”

“Yes,” Dante admitted, almost bored now. “But when you screamed… it distracted me. I turned my head for one goddamn second. Long enough for a few of his men to get in and drag him out. By the time mine reached the courtyard, he was gone.”

My head was spinning.

“Gone?”

“Vanished,” he confirmed. “Two hours later, his car was found set ablaze. Police said it was a head-on collision, and all bodies were burnt beyond recognition.”

He paused. His eyes stayed locked on mine.

“My men swore it was him,” Dante went on. “But my instincts, which have never failed me, tell me otherwise. Lorenzo is alive. And until I know for certain, I’ll use the one thing he loved most to draw him out.”

His voice dipped, full of vengeance. “You.”

My heart dropped as a mix of fear and relief washed over me.

My father might be alive.

I held onto the thought with everything I had. I prayed it was true. That he escaped. That somewhere, somehow, he was safe. Maybe even planning to come for me.

He always said I was his world. That he’d die for me.

That had to mean something. And just maybe, there was a way out of this for me. I just had to survive long enough for him to find me.

But Dante had other plans.

“This is taking too long. Clearly, you need some convincing.”

He turned abruptly, pulled out his phone and walked a few steps away, speaking low into it. I couldn’t hear much, just enough to know I didn’t like whatever was coming next.

Then the steel door opened.

A tall man stepped in, brown-haired, broad-shouldered, with the kind of calm confidence that screamed danger. I recognized him instantly. He’d been at the auction. He’d driven the car that took me from hell to… wherever this place was.Gianna’s

His eyes shifted to Dante, waiting.

“Bruno,” Dante said, “bring her in.”

Bruno gave a silent nod and walked out.

My blood turned cold.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice rising in panic. “Who are you bringing in?”

No answer. Just silence.

The minutes stretched too long and finally.

Then the door opened again.

And I froze.

“Aunt Camilla?”

My voice broke on her name.

Shock slammed into my chest. I stood, legs wobbling, unsure if I was dreaming.

She stepped inside slowly. Her eyes met mine, and for the briefest moment, I saw the same exhaustion, the same fear, mirrored in her gaze.

Before I could move, Dante spoke.

“I’ll give you both some time.”

He turned without another word and walked out, leaving me alone with the woman I once believed had tried to protect me.

But now… I wasn’t so sure.

: Striking A Bargain

Gia’s POV

“Aunty Camilla?” I said, blinking fast as if the sight of her might disappear. “What… are you doing here? How?”

I didn’t wait for her to answer. I rushed forward and threw my arms around her. For a second, she held me. Just a second, then she pulled back.

Her arms dropped from around me like I was something she didn’t want to hold onto for too long.

She looked at me carefully, her voice steady. “Dante’s men brought me here.”

I frowned. “What? Why would they bring you…?”

She stepped closer, placing a hand gently on my arm, like she was trying to calm a wild animal.

“Gia… listen to me. Calm down. Everything is going to be fine.”

“No,” I snapped, stepping back. “No, it’s not going to be fine!”

My chest was tight. I couldn’t breathe. My hands were trembling.

“I need to get out of here,” I begged. “Back at Vincenzo’s club, you promised if we got our twenty percent from the auction, we’d disappear. Start over.”

Her eyes dropped to the floor, and for the first time, I saw guilt flash in her eyes.

“Oh child,” she murmured, her voice cracking. “How I wish… but we can’t.”

I shook my head violently. “Why not? Dante said Dad might be alive. If that’s true, then we should be out there looking for him! He could be hurt. He could need us.”

Her face softened, not with hope but pity.

“Gia,” she said slowly, “you’re too naïve.”

My heart sank.

“You saw those names Dante showed you, the men Lorenzo owes. They’re monsters,” she continued. “If by some miracle your father’s still breathing, he’s hiding. Because even he knows those men don’t leave debts unpaid.”

I stared at her, blinking in disbelief. “So that’s it? You want me to just… give in? Don’t you care about me?”

She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, the way she used to when I was little and scared after a nightmare.

“My sweet Gia,” she murmured. “Of course I care. But we don’t have a choice. Dante is offering you something no one else will. Protection. Security. A home. He’ll settle all your father’s debts. You’ll want for nothing.”

My mouth dropped open. She truly had grown heartless overnight.

“You’ll get used to it,” she added, her tone slipping into something almost rehearsed. “He’s handsome. Strong. Better than half the men who could’ve won you.”

“You’re not hearing yourself,” I choked out.

“This is the world we live in, Gia,” her voice was even harsher. “Either you accept Dante’s offer… or he’ll cast us out in the street, where your father’s enemies are waiting. You think they’ll offer you contracts? Negotiations?”

She stepped even closer, her tone clearly a warning.

“They’ll drag you into a basement. Tie you up. And take turns, one after the other. And when they’re done, they’ll sell you off again, maybe in pieces this time.”

My breath caught.

That was exactly what Dante said, word for word.

The same vile, brutal scenario he used to scare me.

Did he tell her to say this? Or was this just the dark reality of the mafia world?

“You can’t afford to fight him,” she went on. “You’ve always had that fire, that defiant spirit. Always believed we women had a choice. That we could rewrite the rules. But this isn’t the world you dreamed of, Gia. This is the mafia. And in this world… women don’t get choices. We get assigned.”

She reached for my hand and began massaging my palm in a slightly cynical manner.

“I’ve spent years trying to tame that wildness in you,” she murmured. “Always hoping you’d learn your place before it got you hurt. But maybe now… maybe Dante will do what I couldn’t.”

She lifted my chin gently, forcing my eyes to meet hers.

“You can make this easier for yourself. Be his. Please him. Give him what he wants, and in time… it won’t feel like punishment, you might even begin to enjoy it. Men like Dante, they take what they desire, but they’re not always cruel about it.”

I staggered back in disbelief at the words my aunt was spewing. Her eyes were calm, as if she believed every word she’d just said.

She had become a woman with no conscience.

How could she think I’d ever enjoy being touched by a monster?

As though on cue, the door pushed open.

Camilla flinched and stepped back.

He crossed the room like a storm wrapped in human skin, and I hated how my body still reacted to his presence. He carried a certain aura of power and heat that both confused and awakened something in me at the same time.

“That’s convincing enough,” he said coolly. “I’m sure she understands now.”

Camilla turned back to me. She leaned in, kissed my forehead gently.

“Remember everything I said,” she murmured. “Use what you have. Get what you can. Survive.”

And just like that, she was gone.

It all made sense now. That was why Dante brought her in.

She wasn’t trying to save me. She was here not just to prepare me, but to break me, before he even had the chance.

Dante grabbed my hand, ignoring every protest I made, and walked me back to the table, where the document was laid out.

“Are you ready to sign now?”

I stared at the pages. My vision blurred, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if it was the ink or my tears smearing the print.

This was it.

I was about to sign away my freedom.

My body.

My will.

Everything.

But my fingers froze over the pen. A little part inside me screamed for leverage. A possible chance that offered me a way out someday.

If I had to sell my soul, I needed to at least choose one condition.

My eyes met his. “If I’m going to sign this… I want something in return.”

Dante’s face hardened, his patience wearing thin. “I’m paying off your father’s debt. I’m offering you not just protection but provision of the finest things life has to offer. And you want more?”

“There’s something else,” I continued, my voice firmer this time. “Something that mattered to me before all of this. I’d like to finish it.”

He exhaled sharply, frustrated. “Let me hear this thing that’s worth more than everything I’ve already offered you.”

I dropped the pen and stood straight. “I want to go back to college.”

His expression shifted.

“I already started my degree in Business Management. This is my final year. I want to finish it.”

The coldness returned to his face immediately. “No.”

“Why?”

“That’s not happening,” he said, flat and final. “I’m not letting you go back to college, for obvious reasons.”

“But…”

“If you sign this,” he cut in sternly, “you’re giving up your freedom. That includes where you go, who you see, what you do.”

My voice cracked. “What could I possibly do at school that threatens you?”

He leaned in, eyes like steel. “Spending hours away from my supervision. Without my men. No eyes on you. You could run. Disappear. And we both know you’d try.”

“But your men would find me,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “Isn’t that what you told me before? That there’s no escaping you?”

I don’t know where the courage came from, but I reached for his hand.

His eyes moved down, surprised. So was I.

“I need this degree,” I whispered. “It’s been my dream since I was little, to one day prove my father wrong. To take over his company. To make something of myself.”

Tears welled up again, but this time, I let them fall. Then I said the words I didn’t know I had in me.

“Imagine if I was your daughter. Imagine if everything was stripped away from her in one night. Wouldn’t you still want her to have that one thing that was hers?”

For a moment, he didn’t move.

Then a wave of emotions flashed across his features, like the word daughter opened something in him he didn’t want anyone to see.

His voice was lower when he finally spoke. “I’ll have the lawyers add it to the contract… but under my strict conditions. Is that understood?”

I nodded quickly. “Yes. Thank you.”

My gaze dropped, and I realized my hand was still over his.

Before I could pull away, he caught my wrist, and in one swift move, pulled me toward him until my body collided with his chest.

“We’ll finalize the contract in the coming days,” he said, low and commanding.

Then, without warning, he lifted me into his arms, slinging me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing.

I gasped. “What are you…?”

“It’s time I claimed what I own.”

And just like that… the illusion of mercy I had vanished.