Raven didn't sleep.
She lay awake in Dante's penthouse bed, staring at the ceiling as the storm outside raged on.
Every roll of thunder reminded her of the ticking clock in her chest.
Three days.
That's all Hawk had given her.
Three days to finish the mission.
Three days before they came for Dante.
Three days before they killed her, too.
Beside her, Dante was already awake, though he hadn't moved. His breathing was too measured. His grip on her hip too deliberate.
He was thinking.
Planning.
Just like she was.
Only one of them would make it out of this alive.
She wasn't sure who she wanted it to be anymore.
🖤 The Morning AfterDante stood by the window, shirtless, a cigarette burning between his fingers. The city spread out behind him like a battlefield.
Raven wrapped the silk sheets around herself and sat up.
"I should go," she said quietly.
He didn't look at her.
"I didn't say you could."
Her fingers tightened around the fabric. "You don't own me."
He turned slowly. "Don't I?"
She stood, dropped the sheet, stood naked in front of him.
"If you think you do," she said, "then prove it."
A beat of silence passed between them.
Then he crushed the cigarette in a tray and walked to her, stopping inches away.
"I don't want to prove it," he said. "I want you to admit it."
She smiled darkly.
"I'd rather die."
🩸 Bratva Surveillance Van – Two Blocks Away"He hasn't left the building," said the agent in the front seat, tapping the screen. "Neither has she."
"They're nesting," replied the man in white from the back. "That makes them vulnerable."
"Orders?"
"We move at midnight."
"And if she's still inside?"
He smiled.
"Collateral."
🔥 That Afternoon – Dante's OfficeRaven stood across from Dante as he poured two glasses of whiskey.
She hadn't told him everything. Not yet.
But she was close.
Too close.
He slid her glass across the desk. "The Russians want me dead."
She blinked. "You're not surprised."
"No. But you were."
Her throat tightened.
He stepped around the desk, leaned on the edge, arms crossed.
"You were never sent by them," he said. "That much I believe."
"Then why do you keep me here?"
His eyes darkened. "Because I haven't decided what to do with you."
She took a sip of the whiskey.
"Do whatever you want," she said. "Just make it quick."
Dante laughed.
Low. Dangerous.
"You think I want to kill you?"
"I think you don't know what you want anymore."
He stepped forward and pulled her against him, hand slipping into her hair.
"You're wrong," he said against her ear. "I want to ruin you."
🥀 The Vault – Dante's Private RoomLater, he brought her to a room beneath the club she hadn't seen before.
A long, narrow hallway behind a steel-reinforced door.
Inside: velvet drapes, mirrors, leather cuffs bolted into stone, silk ropes coiled in corners like snakes.
Her breath caught.
"This is where I take the people I don't trust," Dante said. "And teach them to be honest."
She turned to him, pulse racing. "And what do you want from me?"
He grabbed her wrists and bound them to the cold bar behind her back.
"Everything," he said.
Then he kissed her—hard and punishing—before dropping to his knees in front of her like a sinner before the altar.
🖤 Pleasure as PunishmentHe didn't undress her completely.
He wanted to control what she felt, when she felt it, how much she could take.
His mouth worshiped her thighs, her hips, her trembling skin. His fingers left bruises, and his tongue made her forget her own name.
And when she finally broke—moaning, shaking, helpless against him—he didn't untie her.
He simply stood, watched her squirm, and whispered:
"Now you'll tell me what I want to know."
But she didn't.
She couldn't.
Because her body was his.
But her soul was still in hell.
🕯️ After – A Moment of TruthHe untied her slowly, gently, hands lingering too long.
When she collapsed into his arms, he carried her to a couch, wrapped a blanket around her, and sat beside her.
They said nothing for minutes.
Then—
"My name is Evelyn Hart," she whispered.
Dante looked over sharply.
"I used to work for Homeland," she said. "Undercover unit. My assignment was you."
His jaw clenched, but he didn't interrupt.
"I was supposed to take you down," she said, voice shaking. "But I didn't know you'd be…"
She stopped herself.
Didn't finish.
But she didn't need to.
"I should kill you," Dante said.
"I know."
"I should turn you in."
"I know."
He stood.
Then pulled her up with him.
And kissed her.
Long. Slow. Devastating.
Then he whispered:
"Too late."