The Romano mansion carried the uneasy calm of a storm waiting to break. Guards lined the halls. Every shadow felt like an enemy. But inside, another storm brewed—between Dante and Elena.
Since the kiss in the basement, neither of them had spoken of it. Yet every glance burned hotter, every brush of fingers lingered too long.
That night, Arianna begged Elena to read her bedtime story. Dante lingered at the doorway, watching Elena's voice soften the edges of his daughter's world. When Arianna drifted to sleep, Elena set the book aside.
"You don't have to stay," Dante said, voice low.
Elena looked at him. "Do you want me to leave?"
His jaw tightened. He didn't answer. Instead, he stepped closer, until the air between them sizzled. His hand brushed her wrist, trailing upward slowly, dangerously.
"You're a distraction I can't afford," he murmured.
"And yet," Elena whispered, her breath shaky, "you can't stay away."
His lips crashed against hers, harder this time—hungry, claiming. She melted into him, his hands gripping her waist as if she were the only thing anchoring him to earth. For a moment, Dante Romano—the feared Mafia boss—was just a man on fire.
But fire never lasts long in a world of bullets.
BOOM!
The mansion shook as an explosion ripped through the gates. Shouts and gunfire erupted outside. Dante tore away, his weapon already in hand.
Marco burst in. "Boss, they're inside! They came for the girl—and the nanny!"
Elena's blood turned cold. Arianna screamed from her room.
Dante ran, heart pounding. Masked men were storming the halls. He fired without hesitation, dropping one after another. Elena grabbed Arianna, shielding her small body as the child sobbed into her chest.
But then—hell struck.
One of the attackers seized Elena from behind, gun pressed to her temple. Another aimed at Arianna, who clung to her stuffed bunny.
Dante froze, gun raised. His enemies smirked.
"Choose, Romano. The nanny… or the child."
The world stilled. His finger tightened on the trigger. Sweat dripped down his temple. His heart screamed one thing. His blood screamed another.
Arianna's tearful eyes met his. "Papa…"
Elena's voice trembled, but she met his gaze steadily. "Save her. Don't think about me."
Time fractured into a single heartbeat. Dante Romano—the man who never bowed, never hesitated—was forced into the choice every enemy prayed he would face.
And in that split second, something inside him shattered.
BANG!