Impure Love (Dark Mafia Duet #2)

17. Aliyah

17

ALIYAH

I open my eyes, inhaling sharply as the unfamiliar surroundings come into focus. The sunlight streams through the large window, illuminating the opulent room. The scent of cologne fills my nose, adding to my disorientation. I sit up against the headboard, my heart pounding as I take in the luxurious bed and elegant furnishings.

The door to the ensuite opens, and Dante strides out, bringing the scent of cologne with him. He’s dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, his dark eyes locking onto mine.

“Good, you’re awake,” he says, straightening his tie.

Fuck, he’s hot. I hate how attractive I find him. It’s infuriating. I cross my arms over my chest, trying to mask my fear and confusion with defiance.

“What do you want from me?” My voice comes out steadier than I feel.

He smirks, a predatory glint in his eyes. “Straight to the point. I like that.” He steps closer, his presence overwhelming. “You’re mine now, Aliyah. Best get used to it.”

“Like hell I am,” I snap, my voice trembling despite my attempt at bravado.

Dante’s smirk widens. “You don’t have much of a choice. Unless you want your friend Sophia to pay the price.”

A cold wave of fear crashes over me. “Leave her out of this,” I whisper, my voice cracking.

“That’s up to you,” he says, his tone casual, as if discussing the weather. “Follow the rules, and she stays safe. Defy me, and she suffers.”

I glare at him, anger and helplessness swirling inside me. “What are these rules?”

“For starters, you’ll stay here. No attempts to escape. You’ll do as I say, when I say it. Understand?”

I nod, feeling the walls close in around me. “Fine.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from my face. I flinch at his touch, but he only chuckles. “We’ll get along just fine.”

I bite back a retort, knowing it’s pointless. Instead, I sink back against the headboard, trying to ignore the way my body reacts to his proximity. He’s dangerous, ruthless, but undeniably captivating.

Dante steps back, satisfied. “Get dressed. We have a long day ahead.”

Dante steps into the closet, his back to me, and I take the opportunity to breathe, my mind racing with the implications of my new reality. The sound of hangers sliding along the rod reaches my ears as he picks out an outfit.

"Here," he says, tossing a black dress onto the bed. "Put this on. Underwear's in the drawer. Shoes are in the closet."

I glance at the dress, its silky fabric and designer label screaming wealth and control. "Really? You think I care about designer clothes right now?"

He raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You'll care when you see how good you look in it."

I roll my eyes, not dignifying that with a response. Instead, I focus on the immediate task of getting away from his penetrating gaze. "Fine. Where's the bathroom?"

He gestures towards a door. "Through there. I’ll be back in a bit. We’ll go over the expectations then."

As soon as he leaves the room, I scramble off the bed, grabbing the dress and perfectly sized lingerie with a scowl, and head to the bathroom. I close the door behind me and lean against it, taking a deep breath. The bathroom is as luxurious as the rest of the suite, with marble countertops and a spacious glass shower. The scent of his cologne lingers in the air, mingling with the steam from the shower.

I turn on the water, letting it run hot, and strip off my clothes. Stepping under the stream, I let the water cascade over me, washing away the grime and fear of the last few days. The soap and shampoo smell like Dante, and it’s both infuriating and comforting in a twisted way. My fingers find my hair products on the ledge, and I scoff, shaking my head. Of course, he knows what I use. Nothing about this man surprises me anymore.

"Just great," I mutter, working the shampoo into my curls. "A psycho with a knack for personal shopping."

I rinse off, the hot water soothing my tense muscles. I can’t help but wonder what the hell I’ve gotten myself into. Why me? Why now? The questions swirl in my mind, unanswered and maddening. As I finish up and step out of the shower, I wrap myself in a plush towel, the soft fabric a stark contrast to the harsh reality I’m facing.

Drying off, I eye the dress with a mix of resentment and resignation. I slip it on, feeling the expensive material hug my curves. It fits perfectly, of course. The man leaves nothing to chance.

I glance at myself in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back. She looks composed, elegant even, but I know better. Inside, I’m a storm of fear and defiance, determined to survive this nightmare.

Taking a deep breath, I step out of the bathroom, bracing myself for whatever Dante has planned next.

Dante moves in front of me, eyes scanning my appearance. He steps closer, his hand trailing over the dress’s fabric, smoothing it against my hip. “You’ll be accompanying me to all my meetings and events,” he says, voice low and commanding.

I narrow my eyes, hating the way he makes me feel like a dressed-up doll. “Why? So you can show off your new toy?”

He chuckles, a dark sound that sends shivers down my spine. “You’re not a toy, Aliyah. You’re mine. And you’ll go where I go. Those are the rules.”

My jaw clenches, but I say nothing. He moves to the closet, rummaging through the shoes until he pulls out a pair of black heels. He kneels in front of me, sliding them onto my feet with a precision that’s almost intimate. I swallow hard, trying to ignore the way my skin tingles at his touch.

“You will not talk unless I give you permission,” he continues, adjusting the strap on the shoe. “And you will keep your eyes down. Understand?”

“Are you serious?” I ask, incredulous. “What am I, a child?”

His eyes flash with amusement as he stands, towering over me. “You’re whatever I say you are. And right now, you’re a woman who needs to learn her fucking place.”

I glare at him, but his grip on my chin is firm, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Defy me, and Sophia pays the price. Remember that.”

The mention of Sophia sends a cold wave of fear through me. I nod, my defiance wavering. “Fine.”

He releases me, satisfied. “Good. Now, let’s go. We have a busy day ahead.”

As we leave the room, I feel the weight of his control pressing down on me. Each step in those damn heels feels like a surrender, but I have no choice. Not if I want to keep Sophia safe.

We walk through the lavish halls of his mansion, my eyes trained on the floor. The opulence around me is suffocating, a constant reminder of the power he holds. The staff we pass bow their heads in deference, not daring to look at me.

“Why do they all act like you’re some kind of king?” I mutter, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice. Each word feels like a small act of rebellion, but I can't help myself.

“Because I am,” he replies, a hint of amusement in his tone that makes my skin crawl. “And you’d do well to remember that.” His words, laced with a dark promise, hang in the air between us, a reminder of the power he wields over everyone in his domain—including me.

The room is packed with men in suits, all eyes turning towards me as I enter behind Dante. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat a reminder of the perilous situation I’ve found myself in. I keep my eyes down, as commanded, but I can feel their gazes, a mix of curiosity and wariness.

Dante’s hand rests possessively on the small of my back, guiding me through the throng. He stops in front of a large, ornate table where a group of men sit, their expressions a mix of respect and fear. One of them, an older man with graying hair, stands up and nods to Dante.

“Don Russo,” he greets, his voice reverent.

Don Russo? My eyes widen, but I quickly lower them again. Of course. It all makes sense now—the opulence, the power, the fear he instills. I soon learn I’m standing next to the don of the Russo crime family.

“Vito,” Dante acknowledges with a curt nod. “This is Aliyah.”

The man, Vito, glances at me, his eyes assessing. “She’s...unexpected.”

“Isn’t she?” Dante’s voice holds a note of amusement. “But she’s mine now. Any questions?”

“No, Don Russo,” Vito replies quickly, his gaze shifting away from me. The other men murmur amongst themselves, their curiosity palpable.

Dante’s hand tightens on my back, a silent command to keep moving. He leads me to a chair at the head of the table, pulling it out for me. I sit, feeling the weight of their stares, but keeping my eyes on the polished wood in front of me.

“Eyes down,” Dante murmurs in my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “Remember?”

I nod, swallowing hard.

He takes his seat beside me, exuding authority and control. The room falls silent as he begins to speak, outlining plans and giving orders with a calm, commanding tone. His men listen intently, their respect for him evident in every word and gesture.

As the discussion continues, I sneak peeks at the faces around the table. Their looks vary from intrigued to cautious, but none of them challenge Dante's choice to have me here. It's evident that in this realm, his command is absolute.

My new reality dawns on me with brutal clarity. Dante really is a king in his world, and I’m a pawn in his game. Every move I make, every word I say, is under his control. I’m fucked, and there’s no way out.