Impure Love (Dark Mafia Duet #2)

5. Dante

5

DANTE

T he study in the mansion is dim, lit by the warm glow of antique lamps. A long, dark wooden table stretches before me, adorned with a curated selection of luxury items. My eyes trace over the offerings: jewelry, designer clothes, and a particularly intriguing set of barely-there lace lingerie. The thought of it adorning Aliyah's body brings a smile to my lips. I discreetly adjust myself, the anticipation stirring something primal within.

Luca stands at attention, waiting for my verdict. His gaze shifts between me and the items, assessing my reactions. His presence is solid, a testament to his loyalty and efficiency, traits I value deeply.

I pick up a delicate diamond necklace, admiring the exquisite craftsmanship and the way the stones catch the light in a cascade of brilliance. "This," I say, holding it up. The diamonds sparkle, casting a mesmerizing glow. I can already imagine the necklace resting against her smooth, dark skin, a perfect contrast that would only enhance her beauty. The thought consumes me, making my pulse quicken as I envision claiming her, making her mine in every sense.

"Yes, this one," I declare, finalizing my decision. The delicate piece seems fitting for Aliyah.

Luca nods and steps forward to retrieve it, his movements efficient and silent. He knows better than to question my choices.

I sit at my desk, the weight of my empire pressing against my shoulders, but it's a burden I relish. Reaching in the top drawer, I grab a pen, the cool metal familiar in my grip, and scribble a note with strong, decisive strokes:

You cannot hide from me, Aliyah. You belong to me now. I’ve never wanted anything I can’t have,, and Aliyah will be no different. She will belong to me, I will have her.

Luca watches, his expression impassive. "You think she'll respond well to that, Boss?"

I smirk, leaning back in my chair. "It doesn't matter how she responds. She has no choice."

Luca folds the note carefully and tucks it into an envelope. "And if she tries to run?"

I raise an eyebrow, my gaze piercing. "Then she learns the hard way what happens when you defy me." My voice is controlled, matter of fact knowing that defiance isn't an option.

He nods, understanding the gravity of my words. The room falls silent, the only sound is the faint ticking of the clock on the wall, a metronome to my thoughts. My eyes drift to the window, where the city lights twinkle in the distance. I imagine Aliyah somewhere out there, unaware of the storm that's about to engulf her.

Luca nods, his respect for my authority clear in his compliance. "Consider it done,” Luca replies. He takes the note and the necklace without another word and leaves. He knows to follow the orders I already gave him, instructing him on what to do.

As he leaves the room, I feel a surge of anticipation rise within me. Aliyah will soon realize that any type of resistance is futile. She's mine, there's no escaping it. I become consumed by the thoughts of owning her.

I sit back in my chair, savoring the silence that envelops the room. I let my mind wander back to Aliyah's wide eyes filled with terror as she stumbled upon my world, completely unprepared.

The memory of her fear, mingled with her undeniable beauty, stirs the dark possessiveness within me. She’s a deer caught in the headlights, and the thrill of the hunt surges through my veins. My fingers drum lightly on the armrest as I imagine her trying to escape, only to realize the futility of her efforts. A precious prize I’ll never let slip away.

The next morning, my black SUV purrs softly, the engine humming beneath my fingers drumming on the leather-wrapped steering wheel. The tinted windows cloak me in shadow, my eyes fixed on the entrance of Aliyah’s building. The anticipation curls in my gut like a predator waiting for its prey.

One of my men Gio, dressed in a delivery driver’s uniform, approaches the intercom and buzzes Aliyah's apartment. His stance is casual, a stark contrast to the tension coiling within me. I watch every movement, every detail of the exchange, ready to pounce at the first sign of her.

“Yeah?” Her voice crackles through the intercom, hesitant and wary.

“Package for Aliyah Blackwood. Needs a signature,” he responds, his tone smooth, practiced.

There’s a pause, the kind that stretches seconds into an eternity. My heart picks up speed, a rare sensation. Control is my domain, but she’s a wild card, unpredictable.

“Fine. Be right down.”

The intercom clicks off, and I lean forward, eyes locked on the building entrance. The seconds drag, each one a hammer blow against my impatience. Then, the door swings open, and she steps out.

Aliyah’s hesitant, glancing around like a deer in a clearing, every muscle poised to flee. She’s wearing a simple outfit, but the way her clothes cling to her frame ignites more than just attraction, sparking primal desire. Her eyes, wide and alert, dart across the street, scanning for threats.

“Just sign here, miss,” Gio says, holding out the clipboard.

She takes it, her hand trembling slightly. “Who’s it from?”

“Didn’t say. Just instructions to get a signature.” He shrugs, playing his part to perfection.

She scribbles her name, her gaze flicking up to Gio'’s face, suspicion etched into her features. “Thanks,” she mutters, taking the package.

“Have a good day,” Gio replies, turning on his heel and heading back towards the SUV.

Aliyah lingers, her eyes scanning the street once more. She clutches the package, her fingers white-knuckled. I can almost taste her fear, her uncertainty. Fuck, it's intoxicating.

As the door closes behind her, a dark satisfaction settles over me, curling through my veins like smoke. The game has begun, and I’m holding all the cards, every move calculated to perfection.

Aliyah can run, she can hide, but she’ll never escape my grasp. She’s mine, whether she knows it or not. My obsession is a fire that won’t be extinguished, and every step she takes only brings her closer to the inevitable.

The SUV pulls away from the curb, merging into the flow of traffic. My mind races with plans, strategies, each one designed to draw her closer, to bind her to me. The anticipation thrums in my veins, a dark promise of what’s to come.

The next day, I'm back in my study, surrounded by the silence that only amplifies my thoughts. I'm reviewing another selection of gifts for Aliyah, each one meticulously chosen to ensnare her further. My eyes linger on a set of black lingerie, delicate and barely there.

The lace feels soft between my fingers, an intimate whisper of promises, and I can't help but imagine how it would look against Aliyah's skin. The thought alone sends a jolt through me, my cock reacting instantly, throbbing with a need that refuses to be ignored. The anticipation is a constant hum, urging me to take action, to claim what's already mine.

This isn't just about lust; it's about control, dominance. Aliyah will come to understand that her resistance is futile. I close my eyes, letting the fantasy fuel my resolve. The time is coming, and when it does, there will be no turning back for either of us.

I definitely want to see her in this, I decide, holding up the lingerie. I imagine how it’ll cling to her curves, the delicate fabric barely concealing her body, the contrast stark against her skin. She won't be able to hide from me. Every inch of her will be exposed, vulnerable to my gaze, to my touch.

My mind wanders, picturing the way the lace would hug her form, the way her body would respond under my touch. “It won’t last long,” I murmur to myself. “I’ll tear it off her, expose her completely, make her understand just exactly who she belongs to.” My fingers tighten around the lace, the fabric a mere prelude to the real thing. I picture taking it off her, slowly, savoring every inch of her bare skin.

I can almost see her now, standing before me, vulnerable and exposed. Her dark eyes would be wide with fear and something else—something she can't quite name yet. With time, Aliyah's fear will then give way to acceptance, and then, to submission. I will mold her, shape her until she realizes that her place is by my side, bound to me by more than just fear. She will give herself to me to be mine, completely and irrevocably.

I place the lingerie back down, my fingers brushing the delicate fabric one last time. The need gnaws at me, a relentless hunger that I can't wait to satisfy.

I smirk, relishing the anticipation that courses through me. The delicate lace is more than fabric—it’s a declaration. Not only will she be mine, but she’ll know, without a shadow of a doubt, that she belongs to me.

Reaching inside my desk, I grab the notepad and pen, tapping the pen on the desk. The rhythmic sound is almost soothing, a counterpoint to the dark thoughts swirling in my mind. I want Aliyah to feel the fear deep in her core, to make her so nervous and unsure of herself. While she spirals, I'll remain sure of one thing: I will own her.

I shake my head, pressing the point of the pen to the paper, a dark smile curling my lips. I can barely contain the rush that courses through me.

Each stroke of the pen feels like a binding chain, tightening around her freedom. I lean back, admiring the starkness of the words. They’re not just a threat; they're a promise. A promise that no matter where she goes, I'll be there. Her fear will be my leash, her uncertainty my control.

The ink dries quickly, sealing her fate with each letter. I imagine her reaction when she reads it, the creeping dread that will seep into her bones. Fear is a powerful tool, and I intend to use it to full effect.

The message is simple, but potent.

I am always watching.