24. Chapter 24 Dante

Chapter 24 Dante

T he deck beneath my feet is solid, yet my mind wavers with each breath I take. The Mediterranean stretches out, a black void, vast and merciless, reflects my nature—unyielding, dominant, and unforgiving.

I gaze into the night, the waves whispering of vengeance and the lives I’ve taken to get where I am. Luca Corsini’s face flashes before me, his arrogance infuriating.

He thought he could take my throne. But he’s mistaken. This world— my world—belongs to me, and I’m about to remind him of that cold, hard fact.

My crew moves silently around me, each one a shadow in the darkness, understanding that this is a moment for silence. They’ve witnessed what I can do; they know better than to disturb me when I’m on the brink of violence. They know that when I make a promise, I deliver.

And I promised Luca he would regret ever crossing my path.

I grip the railing, the cool metal grounding me as I breathe in the familiar, briney air. Control is everything. I can’t afford to lose it, not when so much is at stake. But even as I focus on the coming storm, my thoughts drift to her.

Natalie, the woman who has become my obsession, my weakness, and my strength.

She’s the one thing that makes me question everything. Her presence is like a drug, a need that burns in my veins. I want to protect her, to possess her in every way, to keep her safe from a world that would tear her apart.

The night air cools the fire in my chest, but it doesn’t extinguish it. Nothing can—not until she’s safe, not until she’s irrevocably mine in every possible way.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, pulling me back to the present. It’s Alonzo.

“Boss,” he says, his voice low and steady through the speaker. “Everything’s in place. We’re ready to move on your command.”

“Good,” I reply, my voice sharp and precise. “Make sure the men know the plan. No survivors. Luca lives, but only long enough to beg.”

“Understood,” Alonzo responds, his tone dark and grim.

The call ends, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more. The waves crash against the hull, a rhythmic reminder of the violence that lies ahead. This is the calm before the storm, the quiet moment before I descend into the darkness, before I make Luca pay for his arrogance.

The yacht glides through the water, silent and deadly, a reflection of the man who commands it.

Soon, the Corsinis will learn what it means to cross Dante Corleone. But more importantly, Natalie will learn what it means to belong to me.

It’s not long before my phone buzzes again. Alonzo.

“It’s done,” he says, his voice steady, unflinching. “No survivors. We’ve located Luca. He’s holed up outside Accel City. Your orders?”

“Bring him to me,” I command, my voice as cold as the sea beyond the window. “Ensure he’s in one piece. I want him conscious for what’s to come.”

“Yes, boss.”

The call ends, leaving the weight of what’s to come pressing down on me. Everything must be executed flawlessly, leaving no room for doubt, no space for error. This isn’t just about revenge—it’s a crystal-clear message to Nazarov Corsini and anyone else foolish enough to think they can touch what belongs to me.

Cross Dante Corleone, and you’ll suffer. Challenge me, and you’ll die.

I slip the phone into my pocket and turn toward the door. It’s time to face her—my beautiful, broken bird. My Natalie.

The door to our cabin creaks open under my touch. She’s there, curled up on the bed, a book forgotten in her lap. Her eyes meet mine, wide and questioning, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. The sight of her, so vulnerable and yet so strong, stirs something primal in me.

“Dante,” she breathes.

I close the distance between us in three long strides, cupping her face in my hands. “We dock tomorrow, solnyshko. Things are about to change.”

She swallows hard, her pulse fluttering beneath my fingertips. “The Corsinis?”

“Don’t worry about them,” I growl, pressing a bruising kiss to her forehead. “I’ll handle it. You just need to stay close to me.”

Natalie nods, but I can see the conflict in her eyes. She’s still fighting it—fighting us—even as her body leans into my touch, seeking the comfort only I can provide.

“Come,” I say, pulling her to her feet. “Let’s get some air.”

On deck, the night wraps around us like a velvet cloak. The chill in the air sends a shiver through her, and I pull her closer, my arm an iron band around her waist. She fits against me perfectly, as if she was made to be here, by my side, facing the world together.

“Are you afraid?” I murmur into her hair, my voice soft but commanding.

She’s silent for a long moment, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon, the stars scattered across the sky like a thousand tiny shards of glass. “Should I be?”

A dark chuckle escapes me, low and dangerous. “Always, moy voron. But not of me. Never of me.”

Her laugh is brittle, edged with something close to hysteria. “Isn’t that what all monsters say?”

I spin her to face me, my fingers digging into her hips, the force of my grip pulling her closer until there’s no space left between us. “I’ve never pretended to be anything but what I am, Natalie. You knew what you were getting into.”

“Did I?” she whispers, her eyes searching mine, filled with a vulnerability that tightens something deep inside me. “Sometimes I wonder if I had any choice at all.”

Her words hit me, stoking the fire of possession that burns in my veins. I crush my mouth to hers, swallowing her gasp of surprise. The kiss is fierce, all teeth and tongue, a claiming, a punishment, a promise.

When I finally release her, we’re both breathing hard, the night air between us electric.I growl, pressing my forehead to hers, letting her feel the intensity of my gaze. “You’re stuck with me. By choice or by fate, and I’ll burn the world to keep it that way.”

Natalie trembles in my arms, desire and fear warring in her gaze. “What happens when we dock?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

I brush a strand of hair from her face, my touch deceptively gentle. “You’ll see, solnyshko. You’ll see...”

We stand there, locked in our embrace as the yacht cuts through the inky waters, the shore looming ever closer, bringing with it the promise of blood and retribution.

The horizon draws closer, the dark silhouette of the coastline rising from the sea like a specter. My mind sharpens with the clarity of purpose, the tension between what’s already been done and what’s still to come thrumming through my veins.

This isn’t just about revenge anymore—it’s about reestablishing my dominance, about reminding the world why I am the king of this twisted empire.

As the yacht nears the shore, my phone vibrates again, the number on the screen makes me laugh out loud. Sergei Mikhailov. The Bratva’s Pakhan. He’s a man as cold and hard as the granite of his ancestral homeland, a power broker who’s learned to play the long game with deadly precision.

I answer, my voice a cold, measured whisper. “Sergei.”

“Dante,” Sergei’s deep, gravelly voice rumbles through the speaker, like a distant storm rolling over the horizon. “This war you’ve started with the Corsinis—it threatens everything we’ve built. You know what this means, don’t you?”

I picture him in his fortress of a home, surrounded by the relics of his forefathers, his craggy face set in the kind of grim expression that only decades of ruthless leadership can carve. He’s not a man who wastes words, and the gravity in his tone tells me everything I need to know. The alliance—the fragile, blood-soaked truce that has kept the balance of power intact for years—is teetering on the edge.

“It’s already done, Sergei,” I reply, my tone as unforgiving as the steel in my grip. “Luca crossed a line. There’s no coming back from that. He dared to touch what’s mine. He will pay the price.”

There’s a pause on the other end, a silence heavy with the weight of centuries of tradition and violence. When Sergei speaks again, his voice is lower, edged with something that could almost be called regret. “If this war escalates, it will consume us all. The Corsinis won’t go down without a fight, and when they do, others will follow. You know this.”

“I’m counting on it,” I say, the words slipping from my lips like a deadly promise. “This isn’t just about Luca. It’s about reminding everyone who holds the reins in this world. Who the true power belongs to.”

“Shadowcrest was a warning,” Sergei says, the name of my once-prized estate hanging in the air like a ghost. “They came for you, Dante. They destroyed your sanctuary. They sent a message.”

“They made a mistake,” I respond, my voice dark with the kind of fury that only loss can bring. “Shadowcrest may be gone, reduced to ashes, but everything that mattered was already beyond their reach. My precious pieces are scattered, hidden across the world, waiting for the right time. They can burn the house, but they can’t touch what’s truly mine.”

“Is that what you’ll tell Natalie?” Sergei asks, his tone pointed, as though probing for a weakness, for the chink in the armor that he knows I never show. “That she’s just another piece in your game?”

A dangerous smile pulls at my lips, one that Sergei can’t see, but surely senses. “Natalie is more than a piece. She’s the queen. And I’ll protect her with the same ferocity that I rule with. Luca’s actions were not just a challenge—they were a death sentence.”

“And if the Corsinis come for you again?” Sergei asks, his voice carrying the weight of the inevitable.

“Then they’ll find out what happens when you dare challenge Dante Corleone a second time,” I say, the words edged with finality. “I’ve been unprepared before. I won’t be again. This time, Luca will face the full consequences of his actions. There will be no escape.”

Sergei is silent for a moment, the pause stretching long enough for the gravity of my words to sink in. When he speaks again, his voice is tinged with resignation. “Then this is the end of the alliance. You’ve chosen your path, Dante. Now you must walk it alone.”

“I’ve never needed anyone to walk it with me,” I reply, my tone a dark echo of the solitude that has always been my companion. “But remember, Sergei—the path you walk might soon cross mine. And when it does, be sure you’re ready.”

The line goes dead, the silence that follows heavy with the finality of our conversation. I slip the phone back into my pocket, the weight of the coming battle settling over me like a shroud. Sergei’s warning is clear—the alliance is over. The Bratva will no longer stand by my side, but that doesn’t matter. I’ve fought wars before, and I’ve won them all. This one will be no different.

The yacht slows as we approach the shore, the dark outline of the villa coming into view. The place is a fortress, built for the kind of bloodshed that’s about to unfold. My men are already in position, stationed around the perimeter, their presence a silent promise of the violence to come.

As I step off the yacht, the cool night air sharp against my skin, I know that this is just the beginning. Luca Corsini made a grave mistake when he dared to come for me. He thought he could destroy me, that he could strip me of my power.

But he was wrong.

I will show him—show them all—why Dante Corleone is the king of the underworld. Why I am the one who commands respect, who rules with an iron fist. And why no one, not even the Bratva, can stand in my way.

I reach out for Natalie’s hand, pulling her close as we walk toward the villa. She doesn’t question me, doesn’t ask where we’re going or what’s about to happen. She knows better than that. She knows that this is my world, and in it, I am king.

“Are you ready?” I ask, my voice low, the weight of what’s to come hanging between us.

She looks up at me, her eyes dark and unreadable, but there’s a strength in her that I’ve always admired. “I’m ready.”

“Good,” I say, a dark smile curving my lips. “Because tonight, we remind them who I am.”

The villa’s doors open before us, and we step into the heart of the storm, into the violence that awaits. There’s no turning back now. This war will end only when I say it does.

Luca Corsini wanted to play this game. Now he’ll learn the rules.

And he’ll learn that in this world, there’s only one king.

***

The cool night air is replaced by the oppressive heat that fills the dimly lit room. My steps echo against the marble floor as I lead Natalie inside, her hand secure in mine. There’s a tangible tension in the air, a promise of violence that hangs over us like a storm cloud ready to break.

In the center of the room, bound and bloodied, kneels Luca Corsini. His head hangs low, blood matting his hair, his breath coming in ragged gasps. My men stand around him, their expressions as hard as stone, awaiting my command. The sight of Luca, reduced to nothing more than a pathetic, broken man, fills me with a cold satisfaction.

I release Natalie’s hand and step forward, each movement calculated, deliberate, as I close the distance between us. Luca’s eyes lift to meet mine, and I see the flicker of defiance still burning within him, a last, desperate attempt to hold onto whatever scrap of dignity he thinks he has left.

"Poor unfortunate soul," I say, my voice dripping with mock concern, the words a twisted lullaby as they leave my lips.

Luca’s eyes widen, the flicker of hope extinguished by the cold reality of what’s to come. “You thought you could challenge me. You thought you could take what’s mine. But you’re nothing, Luca. Nothing. You could never compare to me, not in this life or the next.”

“Dante,” he says, his voice trembling. “This isn’t necessary. We can talk, negotiate. My father—”

“Your father is a fool,” I cut him off, my voice a low, dangerous growl. “And so are you if you think there’s anything to negotiate. You want what’s mine, Luca. For that, you’ll pay with your life.”

I see the terror flare in his eyes, the realization that there’s no escape, no mercy to be found here. He starts to plead, his words tumbling over each other in a desperate attempt to save himself.

But it’s all noise, meaningless. The only thing that matters is the message I’m about to send.

I step forward, pulling Natalie with me, positioning her so she has a clear view of what’s about to happen. She resists, her breath hitching in her throat, but I hold her firm, my grip unyielding.

“Watch,” I command, my voice a whip crack in the stillness. “Watch what happens to those who dare to challenge me.”

Natalie’s transfixed, her eyes wide as she takes in the scene before her. I can see the way she’s drawn to it, the way she’s drawn to me —to the power, the control, the sheer dominance that I wield over this man’s life.

It’s intoxicating, the way her gaze follows my every move, the way her breath catches as I circle Luca like a predator sizing up its prey.

I smile, a slow, dangerous curve of my lips, and reach into my jacket, pulling out the knife I’ve carried with me for years. The blade catches the light, gleaming with deadly intent, and I see the way Natalie’s breath hitches, the way her body tenses in anticipation.

“This is a message,” I say, my voice a cold whisper, “to Luca’s father, to everyone who thinks they can defy me.”

With practiced precision, I move toward Luca, my grip on the knife firm and steady. There’s no rush, no need for haste. This is an art, a display of power and control, and I want Natalie to see every moment, to feel the weight of what it means to be by my side.

I crouch down again, this time beside Luca, and press the blade to his skin, just beneath his collarbone. He flinches, but I hold him steady, my other hand gripping his shoulder with bruising force.

Luca’s eyes closed now, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he struggles against the inevitable. But there’s no escape, no mercy. Only the slow, agonizing pain that I will inflict upon him.

I drag the blade across his chest, the cut shallow at first, a thin line of blood welling up in its wake. He gasps, the sound raw and desperate, but I’m far from finished. I want him to suffer, to feel every moment of the life draining out of him, and I want Natalie to witness it all.

As I make the next cut, deeper this time, I glance at Natalie, watching the way her eyes darken, the way she leans forward slightly, as if drawn to the violence, to the power that I wield with such ease. She’s captivated, and I can see the way her body responds—the way her breath quickens, her pupils dilate, her lips part in a silent gasp.

“Keep watching,” I murmur, my voice low and intimate, meant only for her. “See how easily I can destroy him. See how powerful you are by my side.”

I press the blade harder, twisting it slightly as I carve into Luca’s flesh, and his screams fill the room, a symphony of agony that only serves to heighten the moment. But even through the pain, I see the fear in his eyes, the realization that he is nothing compared to me.

“This is for you, solnyshko,” I say, my gaze locked on Natalie’s.

With each cut, I maim him slowly, methodically, taking my time to ensure that every stroke of the blade is a show of my power. Luca’s body convulses with pain, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the blood pools beneath him, staining the marble floor.

And through it all, Natalie watches, transfixed, her eyes locked on mine, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and something darker, something closer to desire. She’s seeing me in all my glory, witnessing the true extent of my power, and she’s falling deeper into the darkness that binds us together.

Her eyes are wide, her pupils blown with a mixture of something that speaks to the twisted connection we share. She’s horrified, yes.

But there’s also a sick fascination in the way she watches me, the way she can’t look away.

I turn my attention back to Luca, who’s trembling now, his defiance shattered, replaced by the cold reality of what’s to come. I crouch down in front of him, my gaze level with his.

“Did you think you could be her savior, Luca?” I ask, my voice soft, almost gentle. “Did you really believe you could take her from me?”

He tries to speak, but the words catch in his throat, choking him. I smile, a slow, cruel twist of my lips.

“You’re nothing,” I say, my tone hardening. “Less than nothing. And now, you’ll die as nothing.”

With a single, fluid motion, I draw the knife from my belt, the blade gleaming in the dim light. Luca’s eyes widen, a choked sob escaping him as he realizes what’s about to happen.

I don’t give him time to beg.

Luca’s screams fill the room, but they’re nothing more than background noise, drowned out by the roar of bloodlust in my veins. I feel Natalie’s gaze on me, feel the way her breath quickens, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and arousal. She’s horrified, but she’s also fascinated—drawn to the violence, the power, the control I wield. And I’m going to push her even further, make her see that this is what it means to belong to me.

I glance at her, and her eyes meet mine, wide and dark, filled with something that sends a thrill through me. She’s on the edge, teetering between fear and desire, and I’m going to push her over.

“Do you see now, solnyshko?” I murmur, my voice low and dangerous. “This is what happens to those who try to take what’s mine. This is what it means to belong to me.”

Her breath hitches, her chest heaving as she struggles to process what she’s seeing, what she’s feeling. But I don’t give her time to think. I turn back to Luca, who’s gasping for breath, his body trembling with the pain of the cuts I’ve inflicted.

But he’s still conscious, still clinging to life, and that’s exactly what I want. I’m going to make him suffer, make him feel every second of the life draining out of him. And Natalie is going to watch every moment of it.

I drag the knife down his chest again, this time cutting deeper, drawing a thick line of blood that spills down his torso. He screams, his body convulsing in pain, but it’s not enough. I press the blade harder, twisting it as I carve into his flesh, and his screams turn into choked sobs.

“Please,” he gasps, his voice barely a whisper. “Please, Dante…”

But I’m not done with him yet. I turn to Natalie, my gaze locking onto hers, and I see the way her body trembles, the way her breath comes in short, sharp gasps. She’s on the edge, caught between horror and something darker, something closer to lust.

I press the knife into her hand, the blade still slick with Luca’s blood, and guide her to his chest, letting her feel the power in her hands. Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she grips the hilt of the knife, her breath hitching as she feels the life pulsing beneath the blade.

“Do you feel that, solnyshko?” I murmur, my voice dark and seductive. “That’s his life in your hands. You have the power to end it, to take everything from him. Do it. Show me you belong to me.”

She hesitates, her hand trembling as she stares down at Luca, his blood pooling beneath him as I get back to work, pressing the knife to his thigh, slicing through muscle and sinew, and he screams, the sound raw and desperate.

The way her breath quickens, makes my cock twitch. There’s a part of her that’s horrified by what she’s seeing, but there’s another part—a darker, more twisted part—that’s captivated. She’s never seen this side of me, not fully, but now there’s no turning back.

This is who I am. This is what it means to be with me.

I lean closer to Luca, my voice low, menacing.

“You thought you could be her prince charming, didn’t you? Thought you could save her from the monster?” I chuckle, the sound dark and devoid of humor. “But there are no saviors here, Luca. Only men like me—men who take what they want and destroy anything that stands in their way.”

I twist the knife in his side, and he gasps, his body convulsing in agony. But it’s his eyes that I’m focused on—the way the light fades from them, the way his strength, his defiance, drains away, leaving only fear and pain.

“Dante,” Natalie’s voice is barely a whisper, trembling on the edge of breaking. It’s the first time she’s spoken since this began, and it snaps something inside me. I turn to her, my hand still gripping the knife embedded in Luca’s flesh.

“What is it, solnyshko?” I ask, my tone deceptively soft, as if we’re discussing something mundane. Her eyes flicker to Luca, then back to me, and I see the conflict warring within her.

“Isn’t… isn’t it enough?” she asks, her voice cracking. She’s pleading with me, asking for mercy—for a man who deserves none. But what she doesn’t understand, what she needs to understand, is that mercy is a weakness neither of us can afford.

“No,” I say, my voice hardening. “It’s not enough. He dared to touch what’s mine. He dared to think he could take you from me. For that, he’ll suffer.”

I see the realization dawn in her eyes—she’s been pulled into my world, into my darkness, and there’s no escape. I need her to accept that, to embrace it, to understand that this is what it means to be mine.

Yanking the knife free from Luca’s body, his blood splatters across the pristine floor. He’s on the brink now, teetering on the edge of oblivion, and I can see the fear in his eyes, the desperate hope that I’ll end it quickly. But there’s no mercy in me, not tonight.

I turn to Natalie, holding the knife out to her, the blade slick with Luca’s blood. “Take it,” I command, my voice leaving no room for argument. “Finish him.”

Her eyes widen in shock, her gaze shifting from the knife to my face, searching for any sign of softness, any hint that this is a test. But it’s not. This is who we are now, and she needs to understand that.

“Dante, I—” she starts, her voice trembling.

Natalie hesitates for a moment longer, and I see the struggle in her eyes—the last vestiges of the girl she used to be, fighting against the darkness that’s taking hold.

With a trembling hand, she reaches for the knife, her fingers brushing against mine as she takes it. Her grip is tentative, unsure, but I know she’ll do it. She has to.

“Do it,” I urge, my voice a low, seductive whisper. “End him, Natalie. Show me that you’re mine.”

The blade rests heavy in Natalie’s trembling hand, her eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. I watch her, every muscle in her body taut with tension, as she looks down at Luca, his blood pooling beneath him, his life ebbing away with every shallow breath.

She’s frozen, paralyzed by the weight of what I’ve asked of her.

It’s clear in the way her hand shakes, the way her breath hitches in her throat. Natalie’s not ready to cross this line, not ready to fully embrace the monster I’m shaping her into.

I take the knife from her, my grip firm as I pull her close, her back pressed against my chest.

“It’s okay, solnyshko,” I murmur, my lips brushing her ear. “You’re not ready, and that’s fine. But watch closely. This is what happens to those who dare challenge me. You’ll learn, in time.”

Her breath is shallow, her heart pounding against my chest as she watches, wide-eyed, as I turn my attention back to our guest of honor.

Luca’s screams have faded to pathetic whimpers, his strength draining with each passing second, but I’m not finished with him. Not yet. I want to draw this out, make him suffer until he’s nothing more than a broken shell. He’s close to passing out, and that won’t do. The fun would end too soon.

I move swiftly, setting up an IV drip, my hands steady as I mix a cocktail designed to keep Luca right on the edge. A blend of saline and adrenaline—just enough to keep his heart pounding, his senses razor-sharp, ensuring he feels every ounce of pain I’m about to inflict.

Natalie watches with wide eyes as I insert the needle into Luca’s arm. Her gaze follows the line from the bag to Luca’s trembling body. There’s something different in her expression now—an intensity that wasn’t there before.

“This will be fun, solnyshko,” I murmur, not looking away from Luca as I adjust the flow of the drip. “He can feel everything. Every cut, every burn, every moment of agony. He’ll feel it all.”

Her breath quickens, her body tensing as she absorbs my words. I glance at her, seeing the conflict in her eyes—the war between the fear that grips her and the dark curiosity that pulls her closer. She’s starting to understand, starting to see me in all my glory, and it sends a thrill through me.

“Watch closely,” I say, turning my attention back to Luca. “This is where it gets interesting.”

Luca’s eyes widen in terror as the adrenaline courses through his veins, his body jerking as the full force of the pain hits him. He tries to scream, but it’s a strangled, pitiful sound. I smile, a slow, cruel smile, and pull a small, vicious-looking device from my pocket.

“This,” I say, holding it up for Natalie to see, “is going to make him wish he was dead.”

I see the way Natalie’s eyes widen, the way her breath hitches as she stares at the device, not knowing what it is but understanding that it’s something terrible. Something that will push Luca beyond the brink.

But first, I want her to feel it. I want her to understand the power it holds.

I step closer to her, pressing the device against her skin, just below her collarbone. She gasps, her body tensing as it comes to life, sending a shiver of sensation through her. It’s not pain—it’s something else, something that makes her breath quicken, her pupils dilate with a mixture of fear and something darker.

“Do you feel that, solnyshko?” I whisper, my voice a dark caress as I trail the device down her arm, watching the way she shudders, her lips parting in a silent moan. “Imagine how much it’s going to hurt him.”

Natalie moans softly, her body leaning into mine as the sensation washes over her, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The fear is still there, but it’s mingled with something else now—something darker, more primal.

She’s teetering between who she was and who she’s becoming, and I’m going to push her over.

I pull the device away, watching the way she trembles, her eyes fluttering closed as she chases the sensation. Luca’s presence is almost forgotten, his pain a backdrop to the twisted game we’re playing together. But I’m not done with him yet.

“Now,” I say, my tone light, almost playful, as I turn back to Luca, who is watching with wide, terrified eyes. “Let’s see how much you can take.”

I press the device to his chest, watching with satisfaction as his body convulses violently, his scream tearing through the room. It’s a sound that sends a thrill through me, a reminder of the power I hold, not just over Luca, but over Natalie as well. She’s watching, enraptured by the violence, by the control I exert over this man’s life.

“You like this, don’t you?” I murmur to Natalie, my voice low and seductive as I press the device harder against Luca’s skin, dragging it down his chest. “You like watching him suffer, knowing that it’s all for you.”

She doesn’t respond, but her eyes say it all—the way they’re darkened with desire, the way her breath catches with each of Luca’s screams. She’s mine, in every way that matters, and she’s starting to understand that.

I can see her getting off on this—the power, the blood, the violence. She’s losing herself in it, and I’m going to push her further, make her fall deeper into the darkness that we share.

“Let’s make this a game,” I say, my tone light and playful as I pull the device away from Luca, leaving him gasping for breath. I turn back to Natalie, pressing the device against her thigh, watching the way she jerks in response, her body arching into the sensation. “Tell me what you want, solnyshko. Tell me how far you want to go.”

She moans, her eyes fluttering closed as the pleasure washes over her, her body trembling with need. “Please,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Please, Dante… I need it.”

I pull her closer, the device still humming against her skin, and lean in to whisper in her ear. “You’ll get it, solnyshko. But first, let’s make him beg.”

I turn back to Luca, who is barely holding on, his body shaking with pain and fear, his eyes wide with terror as he realizes what’s coming. He’s on the edge, but I’m not ready to let him go. Not yet.

I press the device to his throat, watching the way his body jerks, his scream cut off by the pain that rips through him. His eyes roll back in his head, and I lean in close, my voice a dark whisper.

“Can you feel that, Luca?” I murmur, my tone cold and devoid of mercy. “This is losing feels like.”

I press the knife to his throat, the blade biting into his flesh as I lean down, my voice a low, menacing growl. “I’m not going to kill you just yet…”

No, that would be too easy. He needs to suffer, to feel every second of the life draining out of him. And Natalie, my beautiful little raven, needs to see it—needs to revel in it.

I press the knife deeper, drawing a thin line of blood from his throat. Luca gasps, his body convulsing in pain, but I keep him on the edge, not enough to kill him, but enough to let him know that death is near. He’s helpless, broken, and exactly where I want him.

“Natalie,” I murmur, my voice a dark, seductive purr as I look over at her. She’s still on her knees, her eyes wide and glazed with lust, her body trembling like she’s caught between horror and desire, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“Come closer,” I command, my tone leaving no room for argument. She obeys, crawling forward on her hands and knees, her breath ragged as she comes to kneel beside Luca’s trembling body. I can see the thrill in her eyes, the dark excitement that pulses through her.

She’s hooked, and there’s no turning back now.

I tilt Luca’s head back, exposing his throat to her, the blood oozing from the shallow cut I’ve made. “Lick it,” I order, my voice dark and commanding. “Taste the last moments of his life.”

She hesitates for a split second, but then, as if something inside her snaps, she leans forward, her tongue darting out to lick the blood from his skin. Luca groans, a pathetic, broken sound, and I feel a rise of dark pleasure as I watch her, as I see the way her body responds to the violence, to the blood.

“That’s it,” I murmur, my voice dripping with satisfaction.

I grip her hair, pulling her back to look into her eyes. There’s no more hesitation, no more fear—only raw, unbridled desire. She’s fallen into the darkness, and moy voron has never looked more beautiful.

With a slow, deliberate motion, I drag the blade down Luca’s chest, leaving a thin line of blood in its wake. He whimpers, his body jerking, but the adrenaline keeps him conscious, keeps him feeling every ounce of pain. I can feel Natalie’s breath hitch beside me, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and excitement.

“Watch closely, solnyshko,” I murmur, my voice a low, seductive purr. “This is what it means to be mine. This is the power you hold when you stand by my side.”

I turn to her, holding the bloodied knife out, and then slowly, I press it against her skin. Her breath catches as the cold metal touches her flesh, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she leans into it, her eyes fluttering closed as a shiver runs through her.

“Feel that?” I whisper, my voice dripping with dark intent. “That’s the edge between pain and pleasure. And it’s all yours, Natalie. If you want it.”

I drag the blade down her chest, just enough to leave a faint trail of red, and she moans, her body arching into the sensation.

“You like that, don’t you?” I murmur, my voice dark and seductive. “You love the way it feels—the way the pain and pleasure mix until you can’t tell them apart.”

She’s trembling now, her body caught in the throes of twisted pleasure as I drag the blade over her most sensitive skin, teasing her, bringing her to the brink before pulling away. She’s on the edge, desperate for release, and I’m going to make her beg for it.

Natalie’s getting off on this, on the violence, the power, and I’m going to give her more.

I pull the device away from Luca and press it against Natalie’s core, right over the thin fabric of her panties.

She cries out, her body arching into the sensation as her hands clutch at my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin. I can feel her trembling, her body desperate for release, and I press the device harder against her, watching as her hips buck against it, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

“Do you want to come, solnyshko?” I whisper, my voice dark and commanding. “Do you want to come while watching him suffer? While feeling his blood on your skin?”

She nods frantically, her eyes wide and filled with dark, twisted need, and I know she’s close, so close. I press the device harder against her, sending waves of pleasure through her as I lean down, my lips brushing against her ear.

“Come for me, Natalie,” I murmur, my voice a dark, seductive growl. “Come while he watches. Come while I torture him for daring to touch what’s mine.”

She cries out, her body shaking as she shatters, her orgasm tearing through her with violent force. I watch as her body trembles, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps, and I know she’s completely lost in the moment, in the twisted, dark pleasure I’ve given her.

Luca’s barely clinging to life, his breath shallow and uneven. It’s time to end this, time to finish him off and make sure Natalie understands exactly what it means to be mine.

I hold the bloodied knife in my hand, feeling the weight of it, the slickness of Luca's blood on the blade. My gaze shifts to Natalie, her chest heaving, her eyes glazed with a dark, twisted hunger. She’s still caught in the aftermath of her previous release, but I’m not done with her yet—not by a long shot.

Slowly, deliberately, I lower the knife to her body, the sharp edge grazing her skin just enough to leave a faint, red line along her thigh. She gasps, her body jerking in response, but instead of fear, there’s something else in her eyes—something raw and primal.

“You want this, don’t you?” I murmur, my voice a dark, seductive purr as I drag the blade higher, toward the juncture between her thighs.

She whimpers, her hips bucking toward the blade, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. The thrill of seeing her so willing, so eager for the darkness I offer, sends a surge of dark satisfaction through me. I trail the blade lightly over her inner thigh, watching the way her muscles tense, her body quivering with anticipation.

I bring the blade higher, pressing it against the thin fabric of her panties, right over her core. She moans, her hips grinding against the knife, seeking more. I press harder, the blade just shy of cutting through the fabric, teasing her, driving her to the brink.

“Tell me what you want, solnyshko,” I whisper, my voice low and commanding. “Tell me how badly you want to come with this knife pressed against you, with the blood of the man who thought he could take you from me on your skin.”

She gasps, her hands clutching at my arms, her nails digging into my skin as she struggles to form the words. “Please, Dante,” she whimpers, her voice trembling with need. “Please, I need to come. Make me come… please.”

A dark smile curls my lips as I press the blade harder against her, feeling the heat radiating from her body, the way she begs so beautifully. I twist the knife just slightly, the edge of the blade teasing her through the fabric, and she moans, her body arching off the table, desperate for more.

“That’s my good girl,” I praise, my voice is filled with satisfaction.

“Now,” I say, my voice a dark, commanding whisper. “Let’s finish this.”

She watches, her eyes wide and filled with something dark and twisted, as I press the device one last time to Luca’s chest, holding it there as the life drains from his body. His scream is cut short, his body convulsing violently before finally going still, the light fading from his eyes.

It’s over.

I turn to Natalie, my gaze locking onto hers, and I can see the way she’s trembling, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and desire. She’s mine, truly and completely, and there’s no turning back now.

I pull her close, my hands firm on her waist as I press her against the wall, the blood from Luca’s body still wet on the floor beneath us. Her eyes flutter closed as I kiss her, hard and possessive, the taste of blood and violence still lingering between us.

“Do you understand now, solnyshko?” I murmur against her lips. “Can you finally see me?”

Then without another word, I grab her, pulling her close and pressing her against my body. Her skin is hot, slick with the evidence of our twisted play, and I press my lips to hers, tasting the metallic tang of blood and the sweetness of her release.

I lift her up, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her to the table where Luca’s lifeless body lies. I lay her down beside him, the blood from his wound pooling around her, mingling with the slickness of her arousal as I position myself between her thighs.

I thrust into her with a single, brutal motion, and she cries out, her body arching off the table as I start to move, hard and fast. The grime and sweat on our bodies make everything slick, primal, and I can feel a sense of contentment burning in my chest as I claim her completely, surrounded by the evidence of my dominance.

Natalie moans, her body trembling beneath me as she clings to me, her nails biting into my back as I fuck her hard, each thrust driving us both closer to the edge. I can feel the tension coiling in her, feel the way her body responds to the violence, the darkness that surrounds us.

I press the bloodied knife against her throat, just enough to draw a thin line of blood, and that’s all it takes. She shatters around me, her body going limp as her orgasm tears through her, her scream echoing through the room as I follow her over the edge, my release surging through me like a tidal wave, violent and all-consuming.

We collapse together, still trembling, our breaths ragged and uneven as we cling to each other, the aftermath of what we’ve done crashing over us in waves. The blood on our skin, sticky and warm, is a visceral reminder of the power, the violence that binds us together.

I pull back just enough to look into her eyes, and what I see there sends a thrill through me. She’s not the same girl she was before. She’s darker, harder, more twisted.

Natalie’s mine, in every way that matters, and there’s no going back now.

I cup her face in my hands, my thumb brushing over the blood smeared across her lips. “You’re mine, solnyshko,” I murmur, my voice low, filled with dark satisfaction. “Now and forever.”

She nods, her eyes still glazed with the aftershocks of what we’ve just done, and I know she understands. She’s accepted it, embraced it. There’s no more resistance, no more fear. Only us, bound together by blood and violence, by the dark, twisted love that we share.

And as I pull her close, pressing a kiss to her bloodied lips, I know that this is just the beginning. We’re only just getting started, and the world will soon know what it means to cross Dante Corleone.