Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Ellie

Thoroughly spent, I sighed as I slumped against the wall in the shower. My pussy still pulsed, and it was a long few moments before I felt as though I’d come back down to Earth.

Robotically, I reached for the shampoo, working it through my hair thoroughly and taking a bit of time to massage my scalp. When I was done, I ducked my head under the water.

After rinsing the shampoo, I applied conditioner, letting it soak into my hair, hoping for some semblance of self-care in this luxurious yet confining space. Then, I squeezed a bit of body wash on a loofah, its scent light and refreshing, and lathered it over my skin.

Finally, I turned off the shower, the absence of water sounding abrupt in the suddenly silent bathroom. I reached out for a fluffy towel, wrapping it around myself and sighing softly. The towel was still warm.

I stepped into the closet, still wrapped in the towel, pondering over what to wear. My eyes settled on a pair of black Lululemon yoga pants and an oversized purple sweater. The pants were comfortable yet form-fitting, while the sweater, despite being oversized, clung to my body in a way that was both comfortable and flattering.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever the rest of the day would bring.

With a sense of cautious optimism, I approached the bedroom door and tested the doorknob. To my surprise, it turned easily under my hand—it was unlocked.

Quietly, I stepped out of the room, my movements almost silent as I crept through the penthouse. It was oddly quiet, and I found myself holding my breath.

As I neared the living area, the sound of hushed voices stopped me in my tracks. Dante and Rafael were talking in the kitchen, their conversation barely above a whisper. I hesitated, torn between the urge to retreat and the overwhelming curiosity to know what they were discussing.

I decided to stay.

Hiding just out of sight, I leaned closer to catch fragments of Dante and Rafael’s conversation. Their voices were low, the topic evidently serious.

“Marco made his move at the docks last night,” Dante’s voice was tense, a hint of frustration threading through his words.

“Do we know how bad it is?” Rafael asked, his tone equally grave.

“It’s a mess. He hit two of our shipments, and there’s talk of his men pushing further into our territory,” Dante replied. His voice was controlled, but the undercurrent of anger was clear with every syllable.

Rafael’s response was a soft curse. “Fuck. A turf war is the last thing we need right now. We’re spread thin as it is.”

“We can’t show any sign of weakness,” Dante asserted firmly. “We strike back, hard and fast. Let Vargas know they can’t encroach on our territory without consequences.”

“We hit his operations where it hurts. Marco relies heavily on his gambling rings. We disrupt those, we disrupt his cash flow,” Rafael suggested.

“It’s a sound plan, but we need precision. Any misstep and we escalate this into an all-out war. We need to be smart, make it clear that it’s a response, not an initiation,” Dante replied.

“The key is to be strategic about it,” Rafael added, his tone now laced with a cold professionalism. “A couple of well-placed moves, just enough to send a message without going overboard.”

“Exactly. We’ll plan it out tonight. Get our best men on it. We need to act swiftly but carefully. Let’s remind Marco why he shouldn’t cross us.”

There was a lengthy pause, and Dante cleared his throat.

“What is it?” Rafael asked, and I leaned in closer.

“There’s something else,” Dante said, a slight change in his tone. “One of Marco’s men approached me.”

Rafael’s surprise was evident even in his hushed tone. “Marco? What did he want?”

“He’s proposing a peace deal,” Dante continued, his skepticism clear. “Claims it’s time to end the hostilities, for the sake of ‘mutual interests’.”

“And you believe him?” Rafael’s question was laced with doubt.

“I don’t trust Marco, not for a second.” Dante’s voice was cold, decisive. “But we need to consider all our options. If there’s a way to avoid further conflict without compromising our position, we should take it.”

“I still don’t like it,” Rafael replied.

“You and I both know that there’s a possibility Marco has found out about Ellie,” Dante said, his voice dropping even lower.

Rafael’s reply was tinged with worry. “That could change everything. He could use her against us, leverage her safety for his benefit.”

Dante’s response was a mix of contemplation and strategy. “It’s a risk, but it also gives us an advantage. Marco’s interest in Ellie could be the key to keeping him in check.”

“But at what cost?” Rafael’s voice was tight, a hint of conflict in his tone. “We can’t forget she’s a person, not just a pawn in our game.”

There was a brief silence, and I could almost feel the weight of their moral dilemma hanging in the air.

Finally, Dante spoke again, his voice firm. “We need to tread carefully. Use the situation to our advantage, but ensure Ellie’s safety at all costs. She may be our leverage, but we are not like Marco. We protect our own and she’s ours.”

I took a step back, fear whirling through me. Thoughts raced through my mind, each more alarming than the last. What if Marco found me? His reputation for ruthlessness and cruelty was well known, especially to me.

Marco was notorious for his brutality. I knew firsthand how he treated his women—with a cold, abusive indifference that chilled the soul. He viewed people as tools, to be used and discarded without a second thought. His network was vast, his reach far and wide across the city. The idea that he’d somehow found out where I was sent shivers down my spine.

At the same time, a nagging suspicion crept into my thoughts. What if this was all a trap? A clever ploy by Marco to lure Dante and Rafael out into the open so that he could strike when they least expected?

Marco was known for his cunning, for laying traps that seemed innocuous until they snapped shut. The possibility that they were walking into one of his schemes was terrifyingly real.

I couldn’t shake the image of Marco’s cold, emotionless eyes, the way he could inflict pain without a flicker of remorse, the way his backhand felt across the side of my face. The idea of falling back into his hands was unbearable.

Yet as much as I was worried about myself, I was far more concerned with what might happen to Dante and Rafael.

They could die.

Determined not to let Marco hurt them, not if I could help it, I made a quick decision. I was going to follow Dante and Rafael. If there was a way I could warn them, or even just be there to support them, I had to take it. It was a risky move, but sitting back and doing nothing was not an option—not when their lives might be on the line.

I would do whatever I needed to do to keep them safe.

I didn’t think about what that might mean.

Especially between the three of us.