Page 10 of Savage Book Boyfriend

“We’ll stop him,” Dante promised. “No matter what it takes, we’ll stop him.”

I nodded, trying to muster up the courage to believe him. But as the car hurtled through the night, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being hunted, that Chant was out there, somewhere, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The silence hung between us, heavy and suffocating. Dante’s eyes were on me, sharp and steady, like he was waiting for me to break. And maybe I needed to. Maybe it was time to let this shit out.

“It wasn’t just the control,” I started, my voice rough around the edges. “It was the way he’d get in my head. Twist everything around, make me think I was crazy, like I couldn’t trust my own damn mind. He’d cut me off from everyone, make me believe I didn’t have anyone but him.”

Dante didn’t say a word, just pulled me closer, his hand a solid weight on my back, grounding me.

“He was a pro at it,” I went on, bitterness seeping into my tone. “He’d pull me back in every time, saying all the right shit, making me believe he actually cared. But it was all part of the game. The charm, the rage, the apologies—round and round.”

Flashes of those nights hit me like a punch to the gut. Him coming home with that look in his eyes, like he was just waiting for an excuse to blow up. The mornings after, with bruises I couldn’t remember getting, just a sick feeling in my stomach and the knowledge that it would happen again.

“And when I tried to leave…” My voice cracked, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “That’s when he got mean. Real mean. Threatened to hurt me, hurt my family. I was trapped, Dante. I didn’t see any way out.”

Dante’s hand slid up to my cheek, turning my face to meet his eyes. They were burning with anger—anger that wasn’t aimed at me but at the bastard who did this. But there was something else there, too. Something I didn’t know how to deal with. Compassion? Understanding? Whatever it was, it was real.

“You’re out now,” he said, his voice low, with a hard edge. “You’re not alone anymore, Genesis. He’s not touching you again. Not on my watch.”

I nodded, but the fear was still there, a gnawing thing in my chest. “I want to believe that, but sometimes, it feels like he’s still got his claws in me. Like no matter what I do, I’ll never be free of him.”

Dante’s grip tightened, a silent promise. “He doesn’t own you, Genesis. You’re stronger than he ever gave you credit for. You’re here, aren’t you? You survived. And as long as I’m breathing, that son of a bitch is never laying a finger on you again.”

His words settled over me like a blanket, soothing the raw edges of my fear. For the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t feel like I was standing on a cliff, about to be pushed off. I felt safe—safe in a way that I hadn’t since before Chant came into my life. Dante’s presence was like a fortress, and all I wanted was for him to pull me closer, to let his strength seep into me.

I leaned into him, my body craving the warmth and security he offered. “It’s just… I’ve never felt like this before. Like someone actually cares enough to protect me, to stand between me and the nightmare I’ve been living.”

His grip on me tightened, but it wasn’t the kind of hold that suffocated. It was firm, reassuring, a promise that he wasn’t letting go. The fierceness in his eyes didn’t scare me. It made me feel cherished, like I mattered, like I was worth something more than just being a punching bag or a pawn.

“Dante, I… I just need you to hold me,” I whispered, the words barely making it past the lump in my throat. “I need to feel like I’m not alone in this. Like I can actually breathe again.”

He didn’t hesitate. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me into his chest, his strength enveloping me in a way that made me feel small but not weak. Protected. Loved. He didn’t say anything, just held me tight, his heartbeat steady against my ear, anchoring me.

The tension in my body started to ease, the knots in my stomach loosening. For the first time in so long, I let myself relax, let myself lean on someone else without feeling guilty or afraid. His hand stroked my back, each movement slow and deliberate, like he was trying to smooth away the pain, the fear, the memories.

“I’m here, Genesis,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through his chest. “You don’t have to go through this alone. Not anymore.”

His words washed over me, and for a moment, I let myself believe them. I let myself sink into the comfort he was offering, let myself feel cherished, valued. For the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as broken as I thought. Maybe with Dante by my side, I could piece myself back together.

And as I rested against him, feeling his strength, his protection, I realized just how much I yearned for this. Not just the safety, but the connection. The way he made me feel like I was worth fighting for. Like I was someone who deserved to be cared for, to be loved.

In his arms, I felt like I could finally breathe. Like I could finally start to heal.

GENESIS

Iwalked into the living room and froze. There, on the floor, was Dante, sitting cross-legged with Mia in his lap. She was babbling away, her little fingers trying to braid the edge of his shirt. Dante listened to her intently, nodding like he understood every word. It was simple, no grand gestures, just him being present and attentive. But it struck me in a way I wasn’t expecting.

Mia’s giggles filled the room as Dante whispered something to her, his voice low and gentle. She leaned into him, and for a moment, I imagined what it would be like if Dante had always been in her life. If he had been the one to hold her when she cried, to calm her nightmares, to teach her the difference between right and wrong. The thought lodged itself deep, tightening my chest.

Chant had never been like this. He was there, sure, but he wasn’t present. Not like Dante was now, effortlessly connecting with a child who wasn’t even his. It made me realize just how much I’d been missing, how much Mia had been missing. And it scared me a little, how badly I wanted this to be our life.

Dante glanced up, catching me watching them. His eyes softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. I managed to smile back, but it felt fragile, like if I let my guard down, all the longing I’d buried would come pouring out.

Mia looked up too, noticing me for the first time. She reached out with her tiny hands, and I went to her, sitting down beside them. Dante’s arm brushed mine as he shifted, and that simple touch sent warmth through me. A warmth that felt dangerously like hope.

I took Mia’s hand and gently pulled her onto my lap, her small frame fitting perfectly against me. She still had that innocent, carefree energy, but I couldn’t ignore the way Dante’s presence seemed to settle her. There was a calmness about him, a steadiness that I’d never seen from anyone else in her life.

Dante watched us with a look that was hard to pin down—part amusement, part something softer, more genuine. "She’s really good at puzzles," he said, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something deeper. “We finished one already and now she wants to do another.”

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