11. Chapter 11 Natalie

Chapter 11 Natalie

M y lungs burn as I tear through Shadowcrest's maze-like corridors, my bare feet slapping against cold marble. The thin lace of my underwear clings to my damp skin, offering zero protection from the chill or Dante's predatory gaze.

Jesus, what I wouldn't give for a coat. Or better yet, a fucking tank.

"Where are you, tiny paintbrush?" Dante's voice booms, echoing off the walls. "You can't hide from me forever!"

Shit. Shit. Shit. He's closer than I thought. I duck into an alcove, pressing my back against a priceless tapestry as I try to calm my racing heart. Think, Natalie. There has to be a way out of this nightmare.

A maid rounds the corner, and hope flares in my chest. "Please," I whisper, reaching for her. "Help me!"

Her eyes widen in fear, darting between me and the hallway where Dante's voice grows louder. She shakes her head frantically, scurrying away without a word.

Fuck. Of course Dante's staff won't help. They're probably more scared of him than I am.

I peek around the corner, and my breath catches in my throat. There he is, prowling down the hall like a panther on the hunt. And holy hell, he's practically naked. Dante's wearing nothing but a pair of black silk boxers, leaving every inch of his muscled torso on display.

I hate myself for the way my mouth goes dry at the sight. His body is a work of art, all chiseled abs and powerful arms. Intricate tattoos wind across his skin, telling stories I'm almost tempted to unravel. Almost.

No. Focus, you idiot. He's a monster, remember? A murderer. A kidnapper. The fact that he looks like he was carved from marble by a horny renaissance artist doesn't change that.

I tear my eyes away, scanning for an escape route. There – an open door, just a few yards away. If I'm quiet, maybe I can—

"Found you."

Dante's voice, low and too close, freezes me in place. I turn, heart in my throat, to find him blocking my path. His eyes rake over me, dark and hungry.

"Quite the game of cat and mouse you're playing, moy voron," he purrs, taking a step closer. "But playtime's over."

I back away, my hands curling into fists at my sides. "Stay the fuck away from me, you psycho."

He laughs, the sound rich and mocking. "Such fire. It only makes me want you more."

"I'm not yours to want!" I snarl, even as a traitorous part of me thrills at his words. "I'm a person, not a toy for you to play with!"

"Oh, but you are mine," Dante counters, his voice a silken threat. "You just haven't accepted it yet."

He lunges for me, but I'm ready. I duck under his arm, sprinting down the hall. I hear him curse behind me, his footsteps thundering in pursuit.

I race through room after room, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The opulence of Shadowcrest blurs around me – glittering chandeliers, priceless art, antique furniture that probably costs more than my worthless existence. It's like running through a museum while being chased by the devil himself.

I burst into what looks like a study, frantically searching for another exit. Shit. No doors, just floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a massive desk. I'm trapped.

"End of the line, solnyshko," Dante calls from the doorway, triumph coloring his voice.

I whirl to face him, backing up until I hit the desk. He stalks towards me, all coiled power and dark intent. My heart pounds so hard I'm sure he can hear it.

"Now, now," he tuts, closing the distance between us. "Don't look so scared. I'm not going to hurt you." His lips curve in a wicked smile. "Much."

"Fuck you," I spit, even as heat pools low in my belly. God, what is wrong with me? Why does his proximity make me feel like I'm about to combust?

Dante's hand shoots out, gripping my chin. "Such a filthy mouth," he murmurs, his thumb tracing my lower lip. "I can think of much better uses for it."

Before I can retort, his mouth crashes down on mine. The kiss is all teeth and tongue and dark hunger. I should bite him. I should knee him in the balls and run.

Instead, I moan, my traitor body melting against him.

Dante growls his approval, deepening the kiss as his hands roam my exposed flesh. One tangles in my hair, tugging sharply to angle my head. The other grips my ass, pulling me flush against him. I can feel every hard plane of his body, the heat of him searing through the thin lace of my underwear.

"That's it," he rasps against my throat, nipping at the sensitive skin. "You know what I want. What you want…"

His words are like a bucket of ice water. What the fuck am I doing?

I shove hard against his chest, catching him off guard. As he stumbles back, I make a break for the door.

"Natalie!" Dante roars behind me. "Don't you dare—"

But I'm already gone, racing down the hall like the hounds of hell are on my heels. And in a way, they are. Dante Corleone is every bit as dangerous as any demon, and twice as determined to drag me down to his level.

I skid around a corner, nearly colliding with an elderly man in a butler's uniform. He steadies me with surprisingly strong hands, his rheumy eyes widening as he takes in my disheveled state.

"Please," I gasp, hearing Dante's footsteps growing closer. "Is there another way out? A secret passage or something?"

The butler hesitates, conflict clear on his weathered face. Then he nods, ushering me towards a large painting of a long-dead man with cold, calculating eyes and a serpentine smile, embodying the essence of a Machiavellian monster.

"Quickly now," he whispers, pressing a hidden mechanism. The painting swings open, revealing a dark tunnel beyond. "This will lead you to the forest. But be careful, miss. The master... he doesn't take kindly to those who defy him."

I want to hug the old man, but there's no time. "Thank you," I breathe, ducking into the passage.

The painting swings shut behind me just as Dante's voice booms through the hall. "Where is she? Tell me, or I swear to God—"

I don't stick around to hear the rest. I plunge into the darkness, one hand trailing along the rough stone wall to guide me. The passage slopes downward, twisting and turning until I lose all sense of direction.

Just when I think I can't take another step, I see a faint glimmer of moonlight ahead. I burst out of the tunnel and into a moonlit forest, gulping in the crisp night air.

Freedom. Finally, gloriously free.

But my relief is short-lived.

"I can smell you, moy voron," Dante's voice rings out, closer than I'd like. "Your fear, your arousal... it calls to me like a siren's song."

Fuck. Of course he knows about the tunnel.

I take off running, branches whipping at my face and legs as I crash through the underbrush. The forest floor is rough against my bare feet, but the pain is nothing compared to the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

"Run all you want, Natalie," Dante calls, sounding entirely too amused. "It only makes the hunt sweeter. And when I catch you... oh, the delicious punishments I have planned."

A shiver runs through me that has nothing to do with the cold. I push myself harder, lungs burning as I weave between trees. But it's no use. Dante's footsteps grow louder, his presence like a red target on my back.

I burst into a moonlit clearing, skidding to a stop as I realize there's nowhere left to run. I spin around, panting, to face my pursuer.

Dante emerges from the trees like some pagan god of the forest. Moonlight gleams off his sweat-slicked skin, highlighting every sculpted muscle. His eyes are wild, filled with a hunger that makes my knees weak.

"Caught you," he growls, stalking towards me with predatory grace.

I back away, my defiance warring with a sick sort of readiness. "Stay back," I warn, but my voice trembles. "I swear to God, Dante, if you touch me—"

"You'll what?" He smirks, closing the distance between us. "Scream? Run? We both know how that ends, solnyshko."

In a flash, he's on me. We tumble to the forest floor, a tangle of limbs and heated skin. I struggle, but it's halfhearted at best. Dante pins my wrists above my head, his body a cage of muscle and sinew.

"Surrender," he demands, his lips a breath away from mine.

I meet his gaze, storm-gray eyes blazing with a cocktail of emotions. "Never," I whisper.

Dante's eyes darken, a growl rumbling in his chest. "Have it your way, then."

His mouth crashes down on mine, stealing my breath and what's left of my sanity. The kiss is all it takes, and I arch against him, hating myself for the moan that escapes me.

"That's it," Dante purrs, releasing my wrists to roam my body. "Let me hear you, moy voron. Let me taste your surrender."

His hand skims down my side, fingertips tracing the curve of my breast through the damp lace. I gasp as he tweaks my nipple, the sensation shooting straight to my core.

"Dante," I pant, not sure if I'm begging him to stop or keep going.

He chuckles darkly, lips trailing fire down my throat. "Say it again," he commands. "Say my name like the prayer it is."

"Fuck you," I snarl, but it comes out breathy and weak.

Dante's hand dips lower, ghosting over my stomach before cupping me through my panties. I can't help the way my hips buck into his touch, seeking more friction.

"So wet for me," he murmurs, fingers stroking teasingly. "Your body knows who it belongs to, even if your mind's still catching up."

I shake my head, desperately clinging to the last shreds of my resistance. "I don't belong to anyone," I insist. "Least of all you."

Dante's eyes flash, something dark and possessive flaring in their depths. "Wrong answer, solnyshko."

Without warning, he rips my panties clean off. The cool night air hits my exposed flesh, making me shiver. But then Dante's fingers are there, hot and insistent, and I'm on fire.

"Look at you," he growls, circling my clit with maddening precision. "So responsive, so hungry for my touch. Tell me you don't want this. Tell me to stop."

I open my mouth, fully intending to do just that. But all that comes out is a broken moan as he slides two fingers inside me.

"That's what I thought," Dante says smugly, pumping his fingers in a steady rhythm. "Your cunt doesn't lie, Natalie. It's greedy for me, clenching so sweetly around my fingers."

I should be disgusted. I should be terrified. Instead, I'm arching into his touch, chasing a release I know will shatter me completely.

"Please," I whimper, not even sure what I'm begging for anymore.

Dante's thumb finds my clit, rubbing tight circles as his fingers curl inside me. "Please what, moy voron? Use your words."

"I— I need—" I can barely think straight, let alone form coherent sentences.

"What do you need?" Dante presses, his movements slowing to a torturous pace. "Tell me, and maybe I'll give it to you."

I crack my eyes open, meeting his heated gaze. The hunger I see there should terrify me. Instead, it makes me burn hotter.

"You," I finally gasp out. "I need you, Dante. Please."

His answering grin is pure sin. "Good girl."

In one smooth motion, Dante sheds his boxers and positions himself at my entrance. I have a moment of clarity, a last fleeting chance to put a stop to this madness.

But then he's pushing inside me, stretching me in the most delicious way, and all thoughts of resistance fly out the window.

"Fuck," Dante groans, bottoming out. "You feel like heaven, solnyshko. Like you were made for my cock."

I can't argue, not when he fills me so perfectly. Not when every nerve ending in my body is singing with pleasure.

Dante starts to move, setting a punishing pace that has me seeing stars. Each thrust drives me higher, closer to a peak I both crave and fear.

Before I can even enjoy it, a twig snaps in the distance. Dante's head whips around, body tensing like a predator scenting danger.

"Boss?" a voice calls out. "You out here?"

Dante curses under his breath. "Alonzo," he growls. "Impeccable timing as always."

He turns back to me, conflict clear on his face. For a moment, I think he might let me go. But then his expression hardens, resolve settling over his features like a mask.

"I'm sorry, moy voron," he says, and for once, I almost believe him. "But I can't risk losing you. Not now. Not ever."

Before I can react, one large hand clamps over my mouth, muffling my startled cry. The other snakes around my waist, lifting me easily.

"I've got her, Alonzo!" Dante calls out, his grip on me tightening. "Meet me back at the house."

I struggle against his hold, but it's useless. He's too strong, too determined.

As he carries me back through the forest, his cock still lodged in me…I can't help but wonder - is this my fate now? To be forever caught in this twisted game of cat and mouse, desire and defiance?