Page 107 of Ruthless Desire

He laughs, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "God has no power here, Natalie. Not over me, and certainly not over you."

He stalks towards me, a predator cornering his prey. I back up until I hit the altar, trapped between the cross and the devil himself.

Dante's hand cups my cheek, deceptively gentle. "You're mine, Natalie. Body, mind, and soul. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be."

His lips crash into mine, hungry and demanding. I hate myself for responding, for the way my body melts against his, craving his touch even as my mind screams in protest.

This is wrong. So wrong. But God help me, I don't know how to stop.

Suddenly, the chapel door bursts open. Enzo rushes in, his face a mask of concern and frustration. "Dante," he says, his voice strained. "This is not the place for this."

Dante pulls away, his eyes flashing with anger. But Enzo stands his ground, a calm in the storm of Dante's rage.

"Please," Enzo continues, his tone softer but firm. "Let's go. We can discuss this elsewhere."

For a moment, I think Dante will refuse. His grip on me tightens, possessive and unyielding. But then, to my shock, he steps back.

"This isn't over," Dante growls, his eyes locked on me. "Not by a long shot."

He turns and strides out of the chapel, leaving me trembling in the aftermath. Enzo approaches, his expression one of regret and apology.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I tried to keep him away."

I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. Enzo's hand rests lightly on my shoulder, a gesture of support that feels alien after Dante's bruising touch.

"We'll find a way out of this," he promises. "I'll help you, Natalie. I swear."

As I look into his eyes, I see the sincerity of his words. Despite the darkness that surrounds us, there's a flicker of hope. And I cling to that hope, even as I feel Dante's pull, an invisible tether I can't seem to break.

I'm caught between two forces - Dante's consuming darkness and Enzo's promise of light. And I don't know which one will destroy me first.

With each passing day, I felt myself changing. The woman I once was - idealistic, defiant - was being consumed by Dante's darkness. Part of me still wanted to fight, but another part, growing stronger by the hour, found a twisted comfort in surrendering to his will.

Chapter 30 Dante

The taste of victory is sweet on my tongue as I watch Natalie sleep. Her skin glows in the early morning light, marred by the marks I've left - proof of my claim, my ownership. She's been more compliant lately, a broken doll remade in my image. It should satisfy me, but a nagging doubt lingers.

Why the sudden change? Is this another of her games?

I push the thought aside. I've won. She's mine. End of fucking story.

Victory should be sweeter than this. But there's an unfamiliar ache in my chest, a longing for something more than just possession. Am I falling for her? The idea is as terrifying as it is exhilarating.

No. Love is weakness. I can't afford weakness, not now.

And yet... the thought of truly losing her, of her slipping through my fingers, sends a jolt of panic through me. I need to bind her to me in every way possible. Legal, spiritual, visceral.

The idea crystallizes in my mind. A wedding. A sacred vow that even she, with all her fire and defiance, won't be able to break. It's perfect. Twisted, yes, but perfect.

"Wake up, solnyshko," I murmur, nipping at her earlobe. She stirs, those storm-cloud eyes fluttering open. The cocktail of emotions swirling in their depths sends a jolt of electricity straight to my cock.

"Dante?" Her voice is rough, edged with wariness. "What-"

I silence her with a bruising kiss, swallowing her gasp of surprise. When I pull back, her lips are swollen, a flush creeping up her neck. "Get dressed. We're going out."

Confusion furrows her brow, but she obeys. I watch as she slips into a flimsy dress, drinking in every curve, every mark I've left on her alabaster skin. Mine. The word echoes in my head, an obsessive mantra.

The drive to the village church is thick with tension. Natalie fidgets beside me, stealing glances from beneath her lashes. I allow myself a smirk. She has no idea what's coming.

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