Page 80 of Ruthless Desire

Natalie, the woman who has become my obsession, my weakness, and my strength.

She’s the one thing that makes me question everything. Her presence is like a drug, a need that burns in my veins. I want to protect her, to possess her in every way, to keep her safe from a world that would tear her apart.

The night air cools the fire in my chest, but it doesn’t extinguish it. Nothing can—not until she’s safe, not until she’s irrevocably mine in every possible way.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, pulling me back to the present. It’s Alonzo.

“Boss,” he says, his voice low and steady through the speaker. “Everything’s in place. We’re ready to move on your command.”

“Good,” I reply, my voice sharp and precise. “Make sure the men know the plan. No survivors. Luca lives, but only long enough to beg.”

“Understood,” Alonzo responds, his tone dark and grim.

The call ends, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more. The waves crash against the hull, a rhythmic reminder of the violence that lies ahead. This is the calm before the storm, the quiet moment before I descend into the darkness, before I make Luca pay for his arrogance.

The yacht glides through the water, silent and deadly, a reflection of the man who commands it.

Soon, the Corsinis will learn what it means to cross Dante Corleone. But more importantly, Natalie will learn what it means to belong to me.

It’s not long before my phone buzzes again. Alonzo.

“It’s done,” he says, his voice steady, unflinching. “No survivors. We’ve located Luca. He’s holed up outside Accel City. Your orders?”

“Bring him to me,” I command, my voice as cold as the sea beyond the window. “Ensure he’s in one piece. I want him conscious for what’s to come.”

“Yes, boss.”

The call ends, leaving the weight of what’s to come pressing down on me. Everything must be executed flawlessly, leaving no room for doubt, no space for error. This isn’t just about revenge—it’s a crystal-clear message to Nazarov Corsini and anyone else foolish enough to think they can touch what belongs to me.

Cross Dante Corleone, and you’ll suffer. Challenge me, and you’ll die.

I slip the phone into my pocket and turn toward the door. It’s time to face her—my beautiful, broken bird. My Natalie.

The door to our cabin creaks open under my touch. She’s there, curled up on the bed, a book forgotten in her lap. Her eyes meet mine, wide and questioning, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. The sight of her, so vulnerable and yet so strong, stirs something primal in me.

“Dante,” she breathes.

I close the distance between us in three long strides, cupping her face in my hands. “We dock tomorrow, solnyshko. Things are about to change.”

She swallows hard, her pulse fluttering beneath my fingertips. “The Corsinis?”

“Don’t worry about them,” I growl, pressing a bruising kiss to her forehead. “I’ll handle it. You just need to stay close to me.”

Natalie nods, but I can see the conflict in her eyes. She’s still fighting it—fighting us—even as her body leans into my touch, seeking the comfort only I can provide.

“Come,” I say, pulling her to her feet. “Let’s get some air.”

On deck, the night wraps around us like a velvet cloak. The chill in the air sends a shiver through her, and I pull her closer, my arm an iron band around her waist. She fits against me perfectly, as if she was made to be here, by my side, facing the world together.

“Are you afraid?” I murmur into her hair, my voice soft but commanding.

She’s silent for a long moment, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon, the stars scattered across the sky like a thousand tiny shards of glass. “Should I be?”

A dark chuckle escapes me, low and dangerous. “Always, moy voron. But not of me. Never of me.”

Her laugh is brittle, edged with something close to hysteria. “Isn’t that what all monsters say?”

I spin her to face me, my fingers digging into her hips, the force of my grip pulling her closer until there’s no space left between us. “I’ve never pretended to be anything but what I am, Natalie. You knew what you were getting into.”

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