Chapter 3

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Giada

"Let's start with my questions, why don't we? But first, it's time for a proper introduction. I'm Luciano Dante, nice to meet you."

My mind comes to a sudden halt. "Dante like the famous poet?" I ask dumbly. If I could, I'd totally slap a hand across my already aching face right now.

The man- Luciano- only seems entertained by my question and chuckles softly. "The one and only," he says, then winces. "That sounded slimy. I apologize." His cheeks heat and it's so unexpected, not to mention inappropriate and borderline ridiculous, that I nearly smile. Nearly.

Instead, I keep my expression cool and guarded as I repeat, "Where am I? What do you want from me?"

"That's not how it works, Princess. I ask the questions and you deliver the answers, not the other way around."

"Don't call me princess," I say through gritted teeth, sitting up in my bed so I feel less insignificant and small compared to the standing man. He must be six feet something all the while being sinfully handsome. It's so not fair. My hormonal brain keeps getting caught in loops instead of figuring out a way out of this mess. Treacherous body.

"Then tell me your name," Luciano shoots back without missing a beat. He's no longer smiling, his face a mask of stone. He's still beautiful, just more professional. It's not helping me on my mission to focus.

"Sofia," I lie smoothly. Just like I've been doing for months.

"Last name?" he asks.

"None of your business," I snap. A flash of irritation or anger flits in and out of his eyes so quickly I can hardly grasp it. It was there though. I saw the darkness this man hides behind his charming shell and it's all I needed to pull myself together. To remember the danger I'm in.

"Listen, Sofia, I'm trying to help you. I'm only in charge as long as you're cooperative. If I don't get results, he'll bring in someone else. Someone who will be allowed to touch you," Luciano tells me urgently.

It's tempting to believe his threat, especially considering they've already kidnapped me. Besides, if my suspicion is correct and I'm truly in Capo Crimini's clutches, whatever his real name might be, then I'm far from safe. On the other hand, I've never been this close to getting answers either.

And now that I'm here, I sure as hell won't leave without knowing every last reason this person had to kill my father.

Just as I decide I'll cooperate, Luciano lifts one hand to his ear. "Yes? I understand, be right out," he mutters against his wristband. That must be how they communicate, a little speaker in their ear and a mic on their wrists.

Luciano straightens and levels me with a look I can't decipher. "I have to go. Good luck." With that, he leaves my cell.

I'm not alone for long before my door slams open again. A bear of a guy enters and takes place beside the open door, looking straight ahead while his body is perfectly tense and poised. He doesn't hold my attention for long before another person enters the cell.

He might be an inch or two shorter than the guard and a lot less bulky but as he heads towards me, eyes fixed on mine, his presence is almost overwhelming. I've never experienced anything like it.

I can't seem to breathe, can't even take him in properly since he won't allow me to break eye contact. There's nothing for me to do but stare back and let the anticipation kill me.

I forget where I am and what I should do. All I know is the undeniably pull toward this gorgeous person.

He takes his time diminishing the distance between us and as his determined steps bring him closer, I can't help but think I've never seen anyone move like that. Utter confidence, that's what he radiates. Confidence and power.

Finally, he takes a seat in the only chair in the room, the movement calculated and controlled. How does someone have so much control of their whole body? He's now only mere feet away from me.

Only when he looks away from me to roll up the cuffs of his shirt do I finally breathe again. What the hell just happened?

"So, Sofia," he breaks the silence, pronouncing my name as if it were a joke. I can't seem to care though. Not when my mind is still hung up on the sound of those two words from his lips.

If I thought Luciano's voice was smooth, this man's is pure silk. Or pure sin, perhaps, judging by the unbidden heat spreading through my body.

Noticing he's waiting for some kind of response, I try to snap out of my trance. Though when I attempt to say something, the sound leaving me is no more than a pathetic squeak in the back of my throat. God, I hate myself sometimes.

The man's face darkens, his eyes narrowing, jaw clenching brows furrowing as he looks me over once. When he meets my eyes again, the disgust in his is so clear it makes me want to curl up in a ball and hide.

What is wrong with me? I don't even know this person! I shouldn't care.

I'm still wearing my muddy dress from the park though they are dry now. My hair must be a tangled, dirty mess and my arms and legs are still covered in dirt. I probably feel worse than I look nonetheless.

"Dante tells me you've been uncooperative, so far," he finally goes on. It takes me a beat to realize Dante is Luciano's last name.

"Who are you?" I whisper, finally regaining my ability to think clearly. The man raises an eyebrow at me, almost looking amused in a cruel way.

"Who am I." He shakes his head to himself. Then his expression slips and he's back to being stone cold. "You have absolutely no illusion of power or leverage in this scenario so I suggest you quit the act and tell me what I want to know like a good little girl," he says, his voice insinuating so much more than his words. It makes my blood boil.

No power and no leverage.

"Excuse me? If that's so then why am I here, huh?" I challenge him, ignoring the voice in my head yelling at me to shut up. To just do what he tells me so I'm less likely to end up in a ditch.

Somehow, no matter how stupid it must sound, I feel like this man wouldn't hurt me. That reminds me of something Luciano said.

"What happened to the guy who hit me?" I ask without giving it much thought. Only when the man opposite me, let's start calling him Mr. Grump, seems to get even more enraged do I realize it might've been better had I stayed silent. Well, too late to regret it now.

Mr. Grump doesn't answer. Might be due to the intense teeth-gritting, to be fair.

"Luciano mentioned something. He said he couldn't touch me. Does that count for everyone? Even you?" I go on, unable to close my mouth now that I've opened it.

In a flash, Mr. Grump is on his feet and right beside my bed. His hand darts forward and I flinch but instead of hitting me, he grips my chin tightly. His touch is searing, the heat reflecting in his eyes as they search the bruise one of his men left me.

He must be the boss here. No way he's not.

As quickly as it appeared, the heat in his gaze evaporates, the gates in front of his emotions closing shut so I'm faced with the collected man from before.

"It's Dante to you. Even better, nothing at all. You're not here to speak to or of my men. And to answer your questions, the man is dead, on his way down to the bottom of the ocean by now, I assume," he says coldly. Then he leans in, tightening his grip on my face almost painfully as he holds my gaze. "And I will touch you however I think appropriate."

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Guys Imma try to update a few more chapters today bc I'm feeling a bit better.

How is the story so far?

Have a good day/ night<3

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