32. Chapter 32 Dante

Chapter 32 Dante

S he chose me.

I watch her, my dark queen, as she stands over her father's body. The air is thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid scent of gunpowder. Natalie's eyes, once soft with innocence, now gleam with a newfound darkness that makes my black heart sing.

"She chose me," I whisper to myself, the words a prayer and a curse rolled into one.

Natalie turns to me, her face a mask of cold determination. "He was weak," she says, her voice husky with emotion. "Unworthy of my loyalty."

Pride surges through me, hot and vicious. This is the woman I've been cultivating, the deadly flower I've nurtured in the shadows of my empire. I cross the room in three long strides and crush her to my chest.

"That's my ruthless girl," I growl into the delicate skin of her neck, savoring the rapid flutter of her pulse beneath my lips. "Wielding death like a scythe, cutting down anything in our way."

She shudders in my arms, her nails raking down my back. The pain is exquisite, a reminder of the fire that burns between us. I capture her mouth in a searing kiss, pouring every ounce of my twisted devotion into it.

When we break apart, both panting, I see the unholy need blazing in her eyes. "Show me," she demands, every inch the queen I've molded her to be. "Show me the world that will tremble at our feet."

A savage grin splits my face. I lace my fingers through hers and lead her from the room, leaving behind the cooling corpse of her past. We stride through the halls of my domain, my soldiers' eyes following our every move. I feel their mix of fear and awe, their gazes lingering on Natalie's lush curves and regal bearing.

I pull her into my private study, slamming the door behind us. The click of the lock is like a starting gun. I'm on her in an instant, pressing her against the heavy oak desk.

"Never doubt your place," I rasp in her ear, my hands roaming possessively over her body. "Never doubt what you mean to me. What you'll give me."

Tension ripples through her. She twists in my arms, her nails biting into my forearms. "I'm not your broodmare, Dante," she hisses. "I won't be kept like some prized animal, popping out your offspring on command."

I can't help the dark chuckle that escapes me. I catch her wrists, pinning them above her head. "Oh, moy voron, how you misunderstand," I purr, nipping sharply at her racing pulse. "You're my obsession. My hellish delight. The only light in my eternal dark."

Her eyes widen, pupils dilating with a heady mix of fear and desire. I grind against her, letting her feel the hard evidence of my need. "And the children we create?" I continue, my voice rough with want. "They'll be living proof that you're mine. My legacy, growing in your belly with every thrust of my cock."

Natalie shudders, her pulse pounding like a war drum beneath my fingertips. I watch the emotions war across her face - revulsion twisting with illicit craving at the thought of bearing my heir.

"I-I can't," she chokes out, tears glittering on her lashes. "Dante, we're too broken, too poisonous to bring a child into this world-"

I silence her protests with my lips and tongue, swallowing down her whimpers. "No more fear, solnyshko," I murmur against her mouth. "Only the twisted glory of what we'll build together."

A sharp knock at the door interrupts us. I growl my frustration as Enzo enters, followed by that sniveling worm Marco Moretti.

"What?" I snarl, not loosening my hold on Natalie.

Enzo, unflappable as ever, simply raises an eyebrow at our disheveled state. "Marco claims to have an offer you can't refuse, Boss. One that could broker a permanent truce with the Petrovs."

I fix Moretti with my most lethal glare, satisfaction coursing through me as he visibly wilts. "Well? Spit it out, you pathetic toad. You're interrupting a rather crucial moment."

Marco stammers out his proposal - a marriage alliance between his daughter and Dimitri Petrov. As he rambles, I feel Natalie go still against me, her quicksilver mind clearly whirring behind her carefully blank mask.

I turn to her with a mocking grin. "So, moy voron. What say you? Is dear Marco talking out of his ass to save his own worthless hide?"

Natalie extracts herself from my embrace with sinuous grace. She glides towards Moretti, every inch the deadly queen. "Just one question," she purrs, stopping inches from his face. "This daughter of yours. Lila. Will she be a cherished wife? Or a sacrificial lamb, thrown to the wolves to appease your greed?"

Pride explodes in my chest. My clever demon, slicing through the bullshit to the heart of the matter. I watch with savage glee as Moretti flounders, his face ashen.

"Well?" I press, stalking forward until we're nose to nose. "You heard my queen. Can you promise Dimitri won't use your little princess as a pawn?"

Marco's knees nearly buckle as he swears his daughter's happiness will be paramount. I dismiss him with a sneer, turning back to Natalie as Enzo hustles the sniveling fool out.

The moment we're alone, I cage her against the desk with my body. "The way you cut that fool to shreds," I groan, already hiking up her skirt. "So fucking ruthless. So perfect."

I claim her mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing her moans as I work her over with my fingers. Natalie writhes against me, her body responding to my touch like a finely tuned instrument.

"This is what you were made for," I growl against her lips. "Taking all I give you. My cock, my cum, my child..."

She comes apart with a ragged scream, clenching around my fingers. When she goes boneless, I withdraw and press my slick digits to her lips. A groan tears from my throat as she suckles them clean.

"Moy voron," I rasp, pressing my forehead to hers. "Let me claim you in front of everyone. Let me declare you wicked queen of my empire."

Natalie shudders, her eyes squeezing shut. I watch the emotions chase themselves across her face - dread, desire, the instinctive terror of a wild thing finally cornered.

"I'm scared," she admits, her voice barely a whisper. "Dante, the things you want from me..."

Something unfamiliar stirs in my chest. I gentle my touch, cupping her face with something approaching reverence. "I know, solnyshko," I murmur, tasting salt and smoke as I brush my lips over her hairline. "Trusting me with your body is one thing. But your heart? Your soul? It's the purest form of terror."

Her eyes fly open, stormy grey and glittering with unshed tears. "Who says you've won either?"

A rough laugh escapes me. I trace the seam of her kiss-swollen lips with my thumb. "Oh, my cruel little bird. We both know I won them the moment you stepped into my web." I trail biting kisses down her throat. "Just as surely as you've ensnared mine in turn."

Natalie makes a noise somewhere between a sob and a curse. I frame her face in my hands, forcing her glassy eyes to meet mine. "Do you accept it?" I demand. "My corrupt heart? My eternal devotion, steeped in blood and shadow?"

For a suspended moment, we stare at each other, stripped to our battered bones. Then -

"Yes," Natalie chokes out, the word cleaving her open. "Yes, Dante. I accept it all."

Triumph roars through my veins. I claim her mouth again, fumbling with my zipper. Then I'm inside her in one brutal thrust, swallowing her broken cry. I set a punishing rhythm, the heavy desk rattling beneath us.

"Fuck, solnyshko," I grind out, driving deeper with each thrust. "Gonna fill this fertile little cunt. Breed you so full with my cum..."

Natalie comes with a wild keening noise, her body clenching around me like a vice. I follow her over the edge with a guttural roar, spilling myself deep inside her. As the aftershocks ripple through us, I offer up a silent prayer that my seed takes root.

I gather her trembling form in my arms, cradling her against my chest. "It's done, moy voron," I rasp into her hair. "No going back now. You belong to me in every way."

Her lips find my thundering pulse. "And you're mine," she whispers. "My monster. My twisted heart."

Joy, black as pitch and twice as potent, detonates in my chest. I tighten my hold on her, marveling at how this beautiful, damaged creature has brought me to my knees.

"Sleep, wife," I murmur, even as my mind whirs with vicious plans. "Tomorrow, I crown you in front of gods and monsters alike. And after..." I palm her belly, fingers tensing. "After, I fill your womb with my child. The shackle you'll never break."

As Natalie drifts off against me, I smile a smile that would send demons fleeing. Our wedding will be a dark circus, an unholy spectacle to make the world tremble. And on that black velvet bed, I'll fuck a baby into my bride, the fruit of our corrupt love.

Natalie Corleone is mine now, and even Death itself won't part us. We'll rule this blood-soaked empire until the very stars fall from the sky. Lord and Lady of eternal midnight, a force of ruination unrivaled in history.

And the sad, pious world?

The world will fucking burn.

As I hold Natalie, drunk on the intoxicating mix of triumph and possession, a nagging whisper creeps into the back of my mind. Something isn't right. The transition was too smooth, her surrender too complete. My Natalie, my fierce, defiant queen - broken so thoroughly?

I push the thought away, burying my face in her hair. But the seed of doubt has been planted, taking root in the fertile soil of my paranoia.

In the shadowy corners of the room, I catch a flicker of movement. My head snaps up, eyes scanning the darkness. Nothing. And yet...

A chill runs down my spine, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. I've survived this long by trusting my instincts, and right now, they're screaming that I've missed something crucial.

As if sensing my unease, Natalie stirs in my arms. Her eyes flutter open, and for a split second, I see something in their depths that makes my blood run cold. A calculating gleam, quickly masked by adoring submission.

"What's wrong, my love?" she murmurs, her voice honey-sweet and dripping with concern.

I force a smile, stroking her cheek. "Nothing, moy voron. Just eager for our new beginning."

She nods, settling back against my chest. But as she does, I feel the almost imperceptible tensing of her muscles, like a predator coiling to strike.

In that moment, I realize the truth that's been staring me in the face all along. The game isn't over. It's only just begun.

And I might not be the one holding all the cards after all.