17. Chapter 17 Natalie

Chapter 17 Natalie

T he pulsing beats of Club Lusso's music reverberate through my bones. Dante's arms encircle me, his hard frame presses against mine, and I can't resist running my hands up his muscular back. Even as we sway to the driving rhythm, I sense the gears turning in his mind. His piercing gaze darts around, assessing every shadow and glittering facade.

A familiar face catches my eye across the dance floor. Luca Corsini, Nazarov's heir and my ill-fated attempt at finding protection from Dante's obsession. The memory of Sienna's sly introduction floods back:

"Natalie, darling, you simply must meet Luca. He's positively divine, and I'm sure you two will hit it off splendidly."

I'd grasped at the opportunity like a drowning woman, hoping Luca's family connections might shield me from Dante's ever-tightening grasp. How naive I was.

Luca's eyes meet mine now, a predatory glint matching the cruel curve of his lips. I shudder, burrowing closer to Dante despite myself.

"Getting distracted, solnyshko?" Dante's low growl sends shivers down my spine.

I arch an eyebrow, forcing a teasing lilt into my voice. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? Your little empire seems to have your full attention tonight."

His grip tightens, eyes darkening with that familiar, terrifying hunger. "Oh, I can assure you," he purrs, "you have my undivided attention."

Before I can retort, his mouth crashes into mine. I hate how my body responds, melting against him as heat pools low in my belly.

We stumble to a secluded booth, hands roaming, kisses growing more frantic. I want him - god help me, I want every inch of this beautiful, dangerous man. His touch ignites a fire within me that threatens to consume us both.

"You're so infuriating," Dante growls against my throat, teeth grazing my pulse point. "Always pushing, always testing my control."

I gasp as his hand slides up my thigh, bunching the fabric of my dress. "Maybe I like seeing you lose control," I breathe, even as alarm bells scream in the back of my mind.

His eyes flash, primal and hungry. "Careful what you wish for, little bird."

In one fluid motion, he pulls me onto his lap, my back pressed to his chest. His fingers ghost along my inner thighs, teasing, tormenting. "Spread your legs," he commands, his voice rough with need.

I obey without thinking, parting my thighs as his hand inches higher. When his fingers brush against my already-slick folds, I can't hold back a whimper.

"So wet for me," he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. "Always so ready, aren't you? Such a good little slut for me."

The crude words should repulse me, but instead, they send another wave of molten heat through my core. I rock my hips, desperate for more friction.

"Please," I whisper, hating the needy edge in my voice.

Dante chuckles darkly. "Please what, solnyshko? Use your words. Tell me what you want."

"Touch me," I gasp as his thumb circles my clit with agonizing slowness. "Please, Dante, I need-"

My plea cuts off in a choked moan as he slides two fingers inside me. The stretch burns deliciously, and I clench around him, greedy for more.

"That's it," he growls, setting a ruthless pace. "Take what I give you. Show me how much you need this, need me."

I'm lost in sensation, the world narrowing to Dante's fingers pumping in and out of me, his thumb working my clit in tight circles. My climax builds with embarrassing speed, and I'm teetering on the edge when-

A deafening crack splits the air. Gunshots.

Dante reacts instantly, shoving me behind him as chaos erupts around us. Bodies surge toward the exits, screams and shattering glass creating a hellish cacophony.

Through the pandemonium, I catch sight of Luca Corsini. He stands unnaturally still amidst the mayhem, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he meets my gaze. A chill runs down my spine as understanding dawns - this is the Corsinis making their move.

"Stay close," Dante snarls, his body coiled with lethal tension. He pulls me from the booth, one arm wrapped protectively around my waist as he guides us through the panicked crowd.

A flash of movement catches my eye, and my heart leaps into my throat. For a split second, I swear I see a familiar face - Daddy? But that's impossible. He can't be here, can't have found me.

The image of my father, weathered and worried, burns itself into my mind. A thousand questions race through my head. How did he find me? Does he know what I've become? The shame and longing that well up inside me are almost overwhelming.

Before I can process the impossibility, Dante's pulling me down a hidden corridor. The sounds of violence fade, replaced by the staccato click of my heels against marble.

We emerge into a private garage, and Dante wastes no time shoving me into a sleek black car. The engine roars to life as he peels out, tires squealing in protest.

"What the hell was that?" I demand, fear and adrenaline making my voice sharp.

Dante's knuckles are white on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched tight. "The fucking Corsinis," he spits. "They've been circling like vultures for months. Seems they finally got bold enough to make a move."

My mind reels, trying to process everything. "But why now? Why-"

I cut myself off as a horrifying thought strikes me. "Oh god. It's because of me, isn't it? Because you brought me there tonight?"

Dante's silence is all the confirmation I need. Guilt and self-loathing wash over me in nauseating waves. How many people died tonight because of me? How much blood is on my hands?

"Don't," Dante says sharply, as if reading my thoughts. "This isn't your fault, Natalie. The Corsinis have always been ruthless opportunists. They would have made their move eventually."

I shake my head, unable to accept his words. "But I'm the one who gave them the opening. If I hadn't tried to use Luca as a shield against you-"

"You did what?" Dante's voice is dangerously soft, a stark contrast to the white-knuckled grip he maintains on the wheel.

Ice floods my veins as I realize my mistake. "I- It was before. When you first...visited me. I thought maybe if I had powerful connections, you'd..." I trail off, unable to finish the thought.

The car screeches to a halt, and before I can blink, Dante has me pinned against the door. His eyes blaze with fury and something darker, more primal.

"You're mine," he snarls, one hand wrapping around my throat. "No one else gets to touch you, to protect you. Do you understand me?"

I should be terrified. I should be fighting, screaming, doing anything to get away from this possessive madman. Instead, I feel a sick thrill of arousal coiling in my gut.

"Yes," I whisper, my pulse racing beneath his palm.

"Say it," he demands, squeezing just hard enough to make my vision swim. "Tell me who you belong to."

"Don Corleone," I gasp, heat flooding my cheeks. "I'm yours, Dante. Only yours."

His mouth crashes into mine, the kiss brutal and claiming. I moan into it, my body betraying me once again as I arch against him.

When he pulls back, his eyes are molten with lust and dark promise. "I'm going to remind you exactly who you belong to," he growls. "By the time I'm done with you, moy voron, you won't be able to think of anyone but me."

A shudder runs through me, equal parts fear and anticipation. As Dante starts the car again, speeding us towards Shadowcrest and whatever exquisite torments he has planned, I can't shake the feeling that I've crossed a point of no return.

The familiar gates of Shadowcrest loom before us, and my stomach churns with dread and anticipation. Dante hasn’t spoken a word since his declaration in the car, but the tension radiating off him is palpable.

As soon as we’re through the door, he’s on me. His mouth claims mine in a bruising kiss as he shoves me against the wall. I gasp, the impact stealing my breath, but Dante swallows the sound, his hands moving with an intensity that ignites every nerve in my body.

His fingers trail down my spine before his hands grip my hips, and in one fluid motion, he spins me around. The cool wall presses against my cheek, grounding me as the first sharp slap lands on my ass. The sound echoes in the room, followed by the heat blooming across my skin.

"Count," he orders, his voice low and dangerous, but I can hear the edge of his control fraying.

"One," I gasp, bracing myself for the next strike.

The next blow lands harder, making me yelp, but I count again, my voice shaking. Each slap sends a wave of stinging heat through me, and with every strike, I feel my body responding more to the mix of pain and pleasure. By the tenth, I’m trembling, aching for more than just his punishment.

"Ten," I whimper, weakly clinging to the wall. Dante’s hand soothes the stinging skin, and I moan at the gentle touch that contrasts with the violence of his blows.

"You take your punishment so well," he murmurs darkly, fingers sliding between my legs to find me soaked and needy. "So ready for me. Always ready."

I whimper as he unbuckles his belt. The metallic clink of the belt buckle sends a shiver down my spine, anticipation coiling in my stomach.

"On your knees," he commands, his voice low and dangerous.

I obey without hesitation, sinking to the plush carpet My heart races as I drop to my knees, looking up at him, my mouth already open like the greedy little whore I was. But instead of guiding his cock into my mouth, he wraps the belt around my wrists, binding them tightly behind my back.

"Let’s see how you handle this," Dante growls, tugging the belt to test the restraint. I can’t move my hands, the leather digging into my skin as he growls, fisting one hand in my hair. When he finally guides his impressive length past my lips.

The taste of him, musky and male, floods my senses.

"That's it," Dante hisses, pushing deeper. "Take all of me, like a good little slut."

I gag slightly as he hits the back of my throat, but force myself to relax. Tears prick my eyes as he sets a punishing pace, using my mouth for his pleasure.

"Look at me," he demands, tugging my hair sharply.

I meet his gaze, my eyes watering from the intensity of his thrusts. The raw hunger I see there both terrifies and thrills me.

"Did you think Luca could touch me?" Dante sneers, his words harsh. "I'm the king of Accel City. No one compares to me, least of all that pathetic excuse for a man."

He thrusts deeper, the head of his cock hitting the back of my throat. I choke, my eyes watering even more, but I keep my gaze locked with his.

"That's right, choke on it," he growls, his voice filled with dark pleasure. "You're nothing but a whore, Natalie. My whore. No one else will ever compare to me."

His words cut deep, a mix of pain and twisted pleasure blooming in my chest. I can't deny the truth in his words, the way my body responds to his every command.

"You think you can look at another man? Even consider him?" He thrusts harder, making me gag again. "You're mine, Natalie. Mine to use. Mine to punish, mine to fuck."

His hand tightens in my hair, pulling me closer as he drives deeper into my mouth. I can barely breathe, my vision blurring, but the raw intensity of the moment is intoxicating.

"Remember this," Dante hisses, his eyes burning into mine. "Remember who owns you. Who makes you feel like this."

I nod as best as I can, my throat stretched around him, my body trembling with need and submission.

“Takaya khoroshaya devochka.” Dante praises me, and I almost soak the freshly polished floor again. It’s one of the few phrases I've learned to crave in captivity.

Honestly, I even remember begging for it… time and time again.

His pace quickens, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure and pain through me. I feel the building tension in his body, the way he's holding back, and it only makes me more desperate.

"Do you feel that?" he growls, his voice rough. "Feel how much I want you? How much I need to claim you?"

I moan around him, the vibrations making him shudder. He pulls out suddenly, and I gasp for air, my lips swollen and slick with saliva.

In one fluid motion, he lifts me, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries me to the bedroom. Dante unbinds me before he tosses me onto the massive bed, and I bounce slightly, my breath catching as I watch him strip.

Dante's body is a work of art, all lean muscle and dangerous grace. Tattoos cover the scars marring his olive skin, each one a reminder of the violent world he inhabits. My mouth goes dry as my gaze travels lower, taking in the impressive length of his cock, already hard and straining towards his stomach.

He stalks towards me, every inch the predator. "See something you like, little raven?"

I nod, unable to form words as he settles between my thighs. His cock slides through my folds, gathering my wetness, and I tilt my hips, silently begging him to fill me.

"So eager," he chuckles, the head of his cock pressing teasingly at my entrance. "Tell me what you want, Natalie. I want to hear you say it."

"You," I moan, past the point of shame. "I want you, Dante. Please, I need you inside me."

With a growl of satisfaction, he slams home in one brutal thrust. I cry out, the stretch bordering on pain, but it's exactly what I need. Dante sets a punishing pace, each thrust driving me higher, closer to the edge of oblivion.

"That's it," he grunts, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise. "Take it, take all of me, Natalie…"

Before I can respond, he slams into me, filling me completely in one brutal thrust. I cry out, the stretch bordering on pain but so, so good.

Dante sets a relentless pace, each thrust driving me higher. His fingers dig into my hips, sure to leave bruises, and the thought only turns me on more.

"Touch yourself," he commands, his voice strained with effort. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

I sneak a hand between my legs, circling my clit with desperate fervor. The dual sensations quickly push me to the edge.

"Dante," I moan, teetering on the brink. "Please, I'm so close-"

"Come for me," he growls, slamming into me even harder. "Now, Natalie."

I shatter with a hoarse cry, waves of pleasure crashing over me.

"Good girl," Dante purrs, his hand now gentle as it caresses my heated flesh. "You took your punishment so well. Now, I think you deserve a reward."

His cock slides through my cunt, and I tilt my hips, silently begging. The stretch as he enters me borders on pain, but it's exactly what I need. Each thrust drives me higher, closer to the edge of oblivion.

Dante’s hand snakes between us, thumb finding my clit with unerring accuracy. The dual sensations are overwhelming, pleasure coiling tighter in my core. Then he pulls me close, his lips brushing my forehead in a surprisingly tender gesture.

"You're incredible," he murmurs, and for a moment, I see a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes.

My heart clenches. This man, this dangerous, beautiful monster, has wormed his way under my skin in ways I never imagined possible. I should be running, should be fighting against this with every fiber of my being. Instead, I find myself melting into his embrace, craving more of his touch, his approval.

"What are you doing to me?" I whisper, not sure if I'm asking him or myself.

Dante's grip tightens, possessive and reassuring all at once. "Giving you what you've always needed," he says, his voice low and certain. "A place to belong. Someone to push you, to challenge you, to make you confront the darkness inside yourself."

His words hit home with frightening accuracy. He sees me - all of me - in a way no one else ever has. The broken pieces, the jagged edges, the parts of myself I've always been afraid to acknowledge.

"It’s too much," I admit, vulnerability making my voice shake. "This... us... it's consuming me. I don't know who I am anymore."

Dante tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. "You're mine," he says simply. "My queen, my partner, my equal in every way. Together, we'll build an empire that will make the world tremble."

Part of me wants to resist, to cling to the person I used to be. But a larger part - a part that's growing stronger by the day - yearns for exactly what he's offering.

"Okay," I breathe, sealing my fate with that single word. "Show me. Show me this world you want us to rule together."

A dark smile curves Dante's lips, triumph and desire blazing in his eyes. "With pleasure, my love. But first..." He reaches for something on the bedside table, and my breath catches as I see what he's holding. A blindfold, sleek and black.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, his voice low and hypnotic.

I swallow hard, my pulse racing. This is it - the point of no return. If I say yes, I'm giving myself over to him completely, surrendering control in a way I never have before.

"Yes," I whisper, closing my eyes as he secures the blindfold.

Darkness envelops me, heightening every other sense. I feel Dante's breath hot against my ear as he speaks. "Good girl. Now, let me show you pleasure like you've never known."

My heart races as I nod, both thrilled and terrified by what might come next.

"Every sensation will be heightened now," he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. "Just feel."

I shiver as my world narrows to the sound of Dante's breathing, the whisper of fabric as he moves, and the electricity in the air reacting to the static energy in my veins. His fingers trail down my arms, feather-light, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I gasp when they brush over my nipples, already pebbling with arousal.

He doesn't linger, moving lower, skimming over my ribs, my stomach, until his hands settle on my hips, grounding me.

"Lie down," he instructs, his voice a soothing command.

I comply, stretching out on the bed. The cool sheets contrast with the heat of my skin, and I tremble with the effort of keeping still, of trusting him completely.

The bed dips as Dante joins me, his presence a comforting weight beside me. I feel him lean over, his breath warm on my neck, followed by the soft press of his lips. He kisses a path down my throat, pausing to suck gently at my pulse point, eliciting a breathy moan.

"Shh," he soothes, his hands gliding over my body in slow, tantalizing strokes. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

I nod, biting my lip to hold back the whimpers threatening to spill out. Every touch, every kiss is magnified in the darkness, sending jolts of pleasure through me.

Dante's hands disappear for a moment, and I hear the faint clink of ice in a glass. My breath catches, anticipation making my heart race. The first touch of ice against my heated skin is a shock, a sharp gasp escaping my lips.

"That's it, " Dante murmurs approvingly. "Sing for me, temny voron."

He trails the ice down my chest, circling each nipple until they're achingly hard. The cold is a stark contrast to the heat building inside me, and I squirm, unable to stay still.

Dante chuckles softly, his free hand pressing down on my hip to hold me in place. "Patience, solnyshko."

The ice moves lower, tracing patterns over my stomach, my hips, dipping between my thighs. I moan as he presses it against my clit, the sensation so intense I nearly come apart right then.

"Easy," he whispers, removing the ice and replacing it with his fingers, warm and insistent. He slides one finger inside me, then another, stretching me slowly as his thumb circles my clit with agonizing precision.

"Dante," I gasp, my hands fisting in the sheets. "Please, I need—"

"I know what you need," he interrupts, his voice a dark promise. "And I'll give it to you. But first, I want to hear you beg for it."

I swallow hard, pride warring with the desperate need coursing through me. But the latter wins out, as it always does with Dante.

"Please," I whisper, my voice trembling. "Please, Dante, I need you. I need you inside me."

"Good girl," he praises, his fingers sliding out of me. "But not yet."

I whimper in protest, but he silences me with a kiss, his lips devouring mine. The taste of him, the feel of his tongue against mine, sends a fresh wave of arousal through me.

When he pulls back, I'm panting, my body strung tight with need. I hear the rustle of clothing, the sound of his belt being unbuckled, and my heart leaps into my throat.

The bed shifts again as he positions himself between my legs, the head of his cock teasing my entrance. He leans over me, his breath hot against my ear.

"Who do you belong to?" he asks, his voice a low growl.

"You," I breathe, arching up towards him. "I'm yours, Dante. Only yours."

"That's right," he murmurs, and then he's pushing inside me, filling me completely in one smooth thrust.

I cry out, the stretch bordering on pain but so, so good. He sets a slow, torturous pace, each thrust driving me higher, closer to the edge of oblivion.

With a broken cry, I shatter, my orgasm crashing over me in waves of white-hot pleasure. Dante follows soon after, his hips stuttering as he spills himself deep inside me.

For a long moment, we lay there, panting and intertwined. As the haze of pleasure fades, reality comes crashing back. What have I done? How have I let myself fall so completely under his spell?

But as Dante pulls me close, his lips pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to my forehead, I can't bring myself to regret it. Not yet, at least.

"Sleep, ," he murmurs, his arms a cage I'm no longer sure I want to escape. "Tomorrow, we have much to discuss."

As I drift off, exhaustion finally claiming me, one thought echoes through my mind: I've crossed a line I can never uncross. I'm not just Dante's captive anymore. I'm his partner, his confidante, his dark muse.

And God help me, I love every second of it.

Days bleed together, a fever dream of depravity and decadence. Dante takes me deeper into his world, peeling back layers of his criminal empire. I witness acts of staggering violence, see enemies tremble and underlings scurry at his command. A dark thrill unfurls in my chest - pride that it's my monster who inspires such fear and devotion.

One drizzly afternoon, we stroll arm-in-arm through Central Park. I'm a lamb in Chanel, led by a wolf in Armani. A flicker of movement catches my eye - a stray dog cowering behind a trash can, painfully thin and filthy.

Something in me cracks. Before I can stop myself, I'm pulling away from Dante, crouching down.

"Hey there," I murmur, extending a hand. "It's okay. I won't hurt you."

The dog inches forward, cold nose brushing my fingertips.

"Natalie." Dante's voice cracks like a whip. "Get away from that filthy beast."

I glance up, ready to comply, but the dog's pleading eyes stop me. I see myself reflected - broken, but clinging to hope.

"I can't just leave it," I say, voice rusty from disuse. "It needs help."

Dante's eyes narrow dangerously. "Don't test me, little raven. You know the price for defiance."

I do. But staring into those hopeless eyes, I find I no longer care. If I let him take this last scrap of compassion, I truly am lost.

Slowly, I rise. "I'm taking it to a shelter. Punish me later if you must, but I won't let an innocent creature suffer."

Surprise flickers in Dante's gaze before his mask slips back into place. "Fine," he bites out. "Have it your way. But don't say I didn't warn you."

As he stalks off, I feel something I haven't in ages - hope, and the stirrings of quiet strength.

The shelter workers are kind, their eyes soft with pity as they take in my designer dress and haunted eyes. They don't ask questions about the bruises peeking from beneath my sleeves. They simply take the dog, promising to give it the care it needs.

As I watch them lead it away, its tail giving a tentative wag, I feel a strange kinship. We're the same, this dog and I. Strays in a world of cruelty, but maybe we can find our way back to the light.

The ride back to the penthouse crackles with dark anticipation. Dante says nothing, his profile etched in stone as he stares out the window. But I can feel the barely leashed fury radiating off him in waves.

Let him do his worst, I think. Nothing can be more agonizing than the slow death of my soul.

When we arrive, Dante turns to me with violence in his eyes. I meet his gaze head-on. Unflinching, unafraid. Ready to face the monster and the lonely girl trapped in his thrall.

The door slams shut. There's no preamble, just Dante's hands on me, bruising and brutal, his lips a snarl against my throat.

"You defied me," he hisses, yanking my head back. "Have you forgotten who owns you?"

"I'm a person, with thoughts and feelings-" I manage, to choke out before the slap cracks across my cheek.

I taste blood.

"Liar," Dante seethes. "You are what I say you are. Nothing more."

He shoves me onto the bed, pouncing like a savage beast. I feel his hardness pressing against me, his hands fumbling at his belt.

But all I feel is a strange, surreal calm. An icy clarity crystallizing in my heart.

He will hurt me, violate me. But he cannot break me. Not anymore.

I am more than the scars he's carved into my skin, more than the shadows he's seared into my soul. As he sinks into me with a bestial roar, as pain and hateful pleasure war within my ravaged body, I lock eyes with my tormentor.

And I laugh.

The sound startles him, his rhythm faltering. Confusion wars with fury on his aristocratic features.

"What's so goddamn funny?" he pants, fingernails sinking into my hips.

"You," I rasp out, my split lip curving in a bloody smile. "Thinking you've won. Thinking you can erase me with the sheer force of your fucked up desires."

I reach up, smearing crimson across his perfect cheekbone. A morbid claiming, mirroring his attempts to brand me.

"But I'm still here, Dante," I whisper. "Still breathing, still fighting, despite everything. And that kills you, doesn't it? Knowing that in the end... you'll never truly own me."

Something flickers in his gaze - uncertainty, maybe. Or a glimmer of respect. Then his eyes shutter, the cruel mask clicking back into place. He slams into me harder, deeper, chasing his pleasure even as he seeks to obliterate me.

But it's too late. The seeds of defiance have been planted. Even as my body shatters beneath his brutal onslaught... my soul remains intact. Bruised and battered, but unbroken.

He collapses atop me, spent and panting. I lie there, sticky with sweat and blood and his release, staring at the ceiling. Waiting for whatever fresh hell he'll conjure next.

But he surprises me.

Rolling off, he sits up, running a hand through his disheveled hair. For a long moment, he simply breathes, his profile limned in the waning light.

"There's something you should know," he says at last, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "About the shelter you took that mutt to."

I tense, bracing for some new cruelty. But his next words steal the breath from my lungs.

"I own it," he murmurs, staring at his hands. "That shelter, and a dozen others like it across the city. No-kill rescues, sanctuaries for the broken and discarded."

My heart stutters. "What? Why would you... how could you possibly...?"

He sighs, a sound of bone-deep weariness. "Because I know what it's like," he says quietly. "To be shattered, left to bleed out on unforgiving streets. To have nothing but the fading hope that someday... the pain will end."

He turns to me, something raw and haunted in his gaze. Something almost... human.

"I see myself in them," he rasps. "The strays, the ferals, the ones the world has given up on. And I couldn't... I couldn't just stand by and watch them suffer. Not when I had the means to help."

I stare at him, this man I thought I knew. This monster who's violated me in every conceivable way, broke me down to my basest elements. And for the first time, I see a glimmer of something beneath the cruelty. A flicker of the broken boy he must have been, before the world turned him into this.

It doesn't erase what he's done. Doesn't excuse the pain he's inflicted. But it cracks the foundation of everything I thought I knew about Dante Corleone.

And in that crack, something dangerous begins to grow. Not forgiveness. Not yet. But understanding. And with it, the terrifying possibility that beneath the monster and the man... there might be something worth saving.