Impure Love (Dark Mafia Duet #2)

10. Dante

10

DANTE

T he silk of the black dress glides through my fingers, a soft whisper of luxury and control. The neckline plunges just enough to promise, while the hem sits at that tantalizing length above the knee. I imagine Aliyah in it, the way the fabric would hug her curves. Then, the pleasure of stripping it off, revealing the lingerie beneath. The thought alone makes me so hard.

I can already picture her reaction. The fear in her eyes, the uncertainty. She’ll try to run, but I’ll be right behind her, a shadow she can't escape. The thrill of the chase makes my blood sing.

I pick up a glass of whiskey, savoring the burn as it slides down my throat. My mind wanders to the next steps. She’s clever, resourceful, but she’s in my world now. Every move she makes, I’ll be there, one step ahead.

Aliyah is my prey. And I am the predator.

I lean back in my chair, fingers steepled under my chin. Aliyah’s getting too comfortable. She thinks she can run and hide, but she needs a reminder. Something that’ll keep her on edge.

I’ll strip away her defenses, just like that dress. Piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but surrender. The thought of her yielding to me, body and soul, fuels my obsession.

I smirk, a dark thrill coursing through me. It’s time to remind the little mouse that I’m always watching, always waiting. She thinks she can slip away unnoticed, but she has no idea how deeply I’m embedded in her world now.

She’ll learn soon enough. There’s no escape from Dante Russo.

The thought of Aliyah’s reaction when she realizes I’ve found her again sends a thrill through me. I can almost see her eyes widening in panic, her breath catching as she understands that there’s no escaping me.

She’ll try to run, of course. It’s in her nature to resist, to fight. But it’ll be futile. I’ll be there, lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce. Her every move will be monitored, her every step traced. She’s just a mouse in my maze, and I'm always a step ahead.

“Luca,” I call out, my voice steady and commanding.

He steps into the room, his posture rigid. “Yes, boss?”

“Make sure the men are in position. I want eyes on her at all times. No slip-ups.”

Luca nods, understanding the gravity of my words. “Consider it done.”

I lean back in my chair, a smirk playing on my lips. “And Luca, when she tries to leave the hostel, let her. But make sure she knows she’s being followed. I want her to feel the pressure.”

“Understood,” Luca says, turning to leave.

As he exits, I sip my whiskey, the burn a comforting reminder of my control. Aliyah’s world is shrinking, her options dwindling. Soon, she’ll realize that resistance is pointless. She’ll understand that her fate is in my hands, that she belongs to me.

I imagine her breaking down, the weight of her situation crashing over her. She’ll be scared, vulnerable. And that’s when I’ll strike. I’ll offer her a way out, a lifeline. But it’ll come with a price. Submission. Obedience. Her complete and utter surrender.

The thought sends a shiver of pleasure down my spine. Aliyah’s mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.

My phone buzzes, a message from Marco. “She’s on the move.”

Perfect. The game is progressing exactly as planned. I stand, adjusting my suit, ready to make my next move.

“Marco, keep her in sight. Don’t let her slip away.”

“Got it, boss.”

I hang up, a sense of anticipation thrumming through me. Aliyah’s running, but she’s running straight into my trap. And when she realizes that, when she sees that there’s no escape, the real fun will begin.

I walk to the window, looking out over the city. My city. Soon, she’ll understand the true meaning of power. She’ll see that in my world, there’s only one rule: what I want, I get. And I want Aliyah.

The game is far from over. It’s just beginning.

My phone buzzes, interrupting my thoughts. It’s Marco. “Dante, we’ve got eyes on her. She’s checked into another hotel, this time under a different name. What’s the play?”

I lean forward, my pulse quickening. “Keep the pressure on. Send someone to watch her every move. I want reports every hour.”

“Consider it done.”

I hang up, the anticipation thrumming through me. Aliyah’s dance of desperation is just beginning, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it.

She’ll know she’s never truly alone. She’ll know that no matter where she runs, I’ll be right behind her.

And soon enough, she’ll realize she belongs to me.

Luca returns when the dress is boxed and ready and I nod to him. "Deliver it to her room. Make sure she sees it."

Luca, ever efficient, takes the package and heads out. I follow at a distance, parking my black SUV strategically across the street from the hotel. The engine hums quietly, my fingers drumming on the leather steering wheel. The anticipation builds as I watch Luca approach Aliyah's door.

He sets the package down, knocks twice, and walks away without a glance back. The door remains closed, but I know she’s inside, probably paralyzed with fear.

An hour ticks by, the suspense electrifying. Then, the door flies open, and Aliyah bursts out, clutching her bag. Her wide eyes scan the parking lot, panic written all over her face. That fear, raw and palpable, rushes straight to my cock. It's like the first night all over again.

She stumbles looking around frantically. I catch her eye through the tinted window, just for a second. She doesn’t see me, but I see her. Every line of her body screams with desperation.

I can almost hear her heart pounding, the rapid breaths she takes. My fingers tighten around the steering wheel, the leather creaking under the pressure.

"Luca," I murmur into my earpiece, "keep a tail on her. Don’t let her out of your sight."

"Understood, boss," Luca replies, his voice steady and calm.

The exhilaration of pursuit surges within me, a pleased grin tugging at my mouth. This is merely the beginning. Aliyah will soon realize that running from me is futile.

My eyes are glued to her, tracing her every curve, and memorizing the furrow of her brow. From here I can see her chest rising and falling as she looks around helplessly as the wheels turn.

Suddenly, Aliyah bolts, and I watch her go, amusement curling through me like smoke. My heart races with excitement, the anticipation of having her in my grasp electrifying.

I step out of the car, my shoes hitting the pavement with purpose. I follow her on foot, weaving through the busy street. She’s quick, but she’s no match for me. I keep a steady pace, just enough to keep her in sight. The crowd parts around us, unaware of the silent chase unfolding in their midst.

Aliyah glances over her shoulder, her eyes wide with terror. The same fear I saw that night at the penthouse. I'm so turned on I'm practically giddy, thinking of how it will be to finally have her.

I catch a glimpse of her dark hair bouncing as she moves, her slender frame cutting through the sea of people. She’s trying to disappear, to blend in. But she’s a beacon to me, a light I can’t ignore.

A vendor calls out, "Hot dogs! Get your hot dogs!" The smell of grilled meat mingles with the exhaust fumes and the distant hum of traffic. New York City, always alive, always moving. It’s the perfect hunting ground.

Aliyah ducks into an alley, a desperate move. I quicken my pace, my steps echoing off the brick walls. The alley is narrow, shadows stretching long in the fading light. She stumbles, her breath ragged, and I can almost taste her fear.

I let her run. There's a perverse satisfaction in watching her flee, knowing she thinks she has a chance. Her fear fuels my arousal, a raw, electric charge that courses through me, igniting every nerve. She’s quick, but I’m quicker.

It’s a dance, a game, and I’m the predator. Each step she takes, each desperate glance over her shoulder, only heightens my anticipation. I savor this moment, the power I hold over her, the inevitability of her capture. She can run, but she can't hide from me.

Aliyah’s head swivels wildly as she sprints through the bustling street. Her eyes pass over me multiple times, but she doesn't see me. I'm like the shadow in her nightmare, always there, just out of sight.

I quicken my steps, weaving through the crowd with ease. She darts past a vendor, nearly knocking over a cart of pretzels. The vendor shouts something colorful, but she doesn’t hear him. She’s too busy looking for an escape.

I grin. This is what I live for—the chase, the thrill, the power that courses through my veins. I can feel the adrenaline heightening my senses, making each moment sharper, more vivid.

Aliyah pauses at a crosswalk, her chest heaving with exertion. She glances over her shoulder again, her eyes wide with panic. She’s looking for me, and yet, she doesn’t see me.

“Come on, sweetheart,” I murmur to myself, a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Keep running. Make it interesting.” The thrill of the chase ignites a fire within me, fueling my desire to catch her. I want her to feel the urgency, to know that there’s no escaping what’s coming.

She darts across the street, narrowly avoiding a taxi. The driver leans on his horn, shouting curses out the window. Aliyah doesn’t stop. She’s driven by pure fear, and it’s completely fucking intoxicating.

I slip through the crowd, my eyes never leaving her. The city moves around us, oblivious to the game unfolding in its midst. Horns blare, people chatter, and the smell of street food, the exhaust fumes. It’s a symphony of chaos, and I am the conductor.

Aliyah stumbles again, her pace faltering. She’s tiring, but she pushes on. I admire her tenacity, even as I anticipate her inevitable surrender.