Impure Love (Dark Mafia Duet #2)

21. Dante

21

DANTE

A liyah steps out of the bathroom, her slender frame wrapped in the silk dress I picked out for her. The emerald fabric clings to her curves, accentuating her natural beauty. My jaw tightens, a surge of possessiveness coursing through me. She looks stunning, breathtaking even. And I hate it.

I can already picture the way other men will eye her, their gazes roaming over what's mine. The thought makes my blood boil.

"Change," I snap, my voice colder than I intend it to be.

She freezes, confusion flickering in her expressive brown eyes. "What? You picked this out," she says, her tone sharper than usual.

I narrow my eyes, stepping closer. "I said change," I repeat, my words a command, not a suggestion.

She folds her arms, a defiant spark lighting up her face. "This is ridiculous. You chose this dress, Dante."

I step even closer, my shadow engulfing her. "And now I'm telling you to take it off," I growl, my voice low and dangerous. "Do it. Now."

I stride to the walk-in closet and grab a different outfit—a more conservative one. Without breaking eye contact, I thrust it into her hands. "Wear this."

She hesitates, clearly irritated. "Why? What's wrong with the dress I'm wearing?"

My patience thins, my voice tightening. "Because I said so. Do you need another reason?"

Her eyes flash with anger, the defiance still simmering beneath the surface, but she takes the outfit from me. "Fine," she mutters, turning back towards the bathroom.

As she walks away, I watch her every step, my mind racing with a mix of frustration and possessive desire. She doesn't understand the world she's stepped into, the dangers that lurk around every corner. I need her to obey, to trust my judgment, even if she resents it.

The door clicks shut behind her and I let out a heavy breath. The thought of anyone else seeing her like that... it makes my blood boil. She belongs to me, and no one else gets to enjoy her beauty.

The image of other men ogling Aliyah, their greedy eyes tracing every inch of her, ignites a fury inside me. The very thought of them fantasizing about her, wanting to touch her, makes my blood boil. I clench my fists, the knuckles whitening.

I stride over to the window, looking out at the vast expanse of my estate, but all I see is red. No one else gets to look at her that way, no one else gets to imagine what they’d do to her.

I pace the room, trying to calm the irrational jealousy gnawing at me. It's a foreign feeling, one I haven't experienced before Aliyah. She has this way of getting under my skin, making me feel things I thought I was immune to.

I whip around, my voice a low growl, “Aliyah, are you done in there?”

The bathroom door opens again, and she steps out, now dressed in the more modest outfit. It's still elegant, still beautiful, but it doesn't scream for attention the way the first dress did. She looks at me, her eyes a mix of defiance and confusion.

"Happy now?" she asks, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Let's go," I snap and grab her arm, pulling her closer. My lips find her neck, nipping along the soft skin. Aliyah shudders beneath my touch, a mixture of fear and something else flickering in her eyes. Satisfied, I pull away, my possessive grip lingering on her wrist.

We make our way to the meeting with our longtime allies, the Vitale family. As we enter the lavish room, the air thickens with tension. Carlo Vitale stands, his green eyes narrowing as he takes us in.

"Dante," he greets, a sly smile playing on his lips. "And who is this lovely companion?"

I keep my hand firmly on Aliyah's lower back, guiding her forward. "This is Aliyah," I say, my voice cold.

Carlo's gaze lingers on her, and a quiet rage simmers within me. I grip Aliyah tighter, pulling her closer to my side. "Eyes up here, Carlo," I snap, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Carlo chuckles, a dark sound that grates on my nerves. "No need to be so possessive, Dante. Just appreciating beauty where it's due."

"Appreciate it somewhere else," I retort, my eyes locked onto his. I feel Aliyah's tension beside me, her body rigid under Carlo's scrutiny.

"Of course, of course," Carlo says, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Let's get down to business, then."

The meeting proceeds, but I can't shake the burning irritation every time Carlo's gaze strays to Aliyah. My mind races, planning ways to ensure she remains out of his sight, out of his reach. No one touches what's mine.

Carlo’s gaze lingers on Aliyah longer than I’d like, and my grip tightens around her waist. I pull her closer, making it clear she’s mine. The surge of jealousy courses through me like a wildfire. Aliyah stiffens beside me, sensing my rising tension.

Carlo’s lips curl into a smirk. “Relax, Dante. No need to be so territorial.”

I lean forward, my voice low and deadly. “Keep your eyes to yourself, Carlo. I won’t warn you again.”

Carlo chuckles, but there’s an edge to it. “Possessive, aren’t we?”

Aliyah shifts uncomfortably, but I don’t let go. Instead, I let my fingers dig into her side, a silent reminder of who’s in control here. She belongs to me, and I’ll be damned if I let Carlo think otherwise.

“Possessive? No,” I say, my tone icy. “Protective.”

Carlo’s green eyes flicker with amusement. “Of course. Protecting what’s yours, right?”

I glare at him, my jaw clenched. “Exactly.”

The meeting continues, but my focus never strays far from Aliyah. Carlo’s occasional glances make my blood boil. I catch his eye once more, letting my murderous intent show. He gets the message, finally diverting his attention elsewhere.

Aliyah tries to pull away slightly, but I tighten my grip. “Stay close,” I murmur in her ear, my voice leaving no room for argument.

She looks up at me, a mix of fear and defiance in her eyes. “You don’t need to hold me so tight.”

I ignore her, keeping her pressed against my side. “I’ll decide what I need.”

The rest of the meeting blurs by in a haze of controlled fury. Every time Carlo looks her way, I’m reminded of the depth of my obsession. It’s irrational, maybe even dangerous, but I don’t care. Aliyah is mine, and I’ll protect her with every fiber of my being.

Finally, the meeting concludes. I stand, pulling Aliyah with me. Carlo rises as well, his eyes lingering one last time.

“Pleasure as always, Dante,” he says, his tone dripping with insincerity.

I give him a curt nod, leading Aliyah out of the room. As we step into the hallway, I loosen my grip just a fraction. “You did well,” I say, my voice softer.

Aliyah looks up at me, her eyes searching mine. “Why do you hate him so much?”

I pause, considering my answer carefully. “He’s a snake. And snakes can’t be trusted.”

She nods, a flicker of understanding in her eyes. “And me? What am I?”

I pull her closer, our bodies almost touching, my gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that makes it clear she’s not just asking out of curiosity. “Mine,” I say, my voice low and possessive.

With that, I lead her down the corridor, the weight of my possessiveness settling heavily between us. Each step is deliberate, my grip on her firm but not punishing, a reminder of who holds the reins in this dangerous game we’re playing.

Back at the mansion, the tension from the meeting with Carlo lingers in the air like a heavy fog. I pour myself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light from the chandelier. Aliyah stands by the window, her gaze distant, lost in thought.

"Carlo’s an arrogant prick," I say, breaking the silence.

She turns, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Why do you keep him around then?"

I take a slow sip, savoring the burn. "Because allies, even slimy ones, have their uses."

Aliyah crosses her arms, her posture defensive. "You don’t trust him, do you?"

A smirk tugs at my lips. "Trust? In this world? That’s a luxury we can’t afford." I set the glass down, stepping closer to her. "But Carlo… he’s different. I’ve long suspected he’s hiding something."

Her brow furrows. "Like what?"

I shrug, leaning against the ornate desk. "Could be anything. Money, power, secrets. With men like him, it’s always something."

She bites her lip, a nervous habit I’ve noticed. "And you’re just… okay with that? Working with someone you don’t trust?"

I chuckle, a dark sound. "Okay with it? No. But sometimes, you keep your enemies close. You learn more that way."

Her eyes meet mine, a flicker of understanding in their depths. "So, what’s the plan? You just wait until he slips up?"

I admire her curiosity, her desire to understand this twisted world she’s been thrust into. "Exactly. Carlo’s smart, but he’s not invincible. Everyone makes mistakes."

She takes a tentative step closer. "And when he does?"

I reach out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "When he does, we’ll be ready. And he’ll pay."

Her breath hitches, and I can see the conflict in her eyes. She’s afraid, but there’s something else there too. Something that mirrors my own obsession.

"Why tell me all this?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

I tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. "Because you belong to me, Aliyah. And in this world, you need to know who your enemies are."

She swallows hard, nodding slowly. "I understand."

"Good." I release her, stepping back. "Now, get some rest. We’ve got another long day tomorrow."

As she moves towards the bedroom, I watch her, my mind racing with plans and strategies. Carlo Vitale may think he’s clever, but he’s got another thing coming. Aliyah’s presence has only sharpened my focus, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone stand in my way.