Page 57 of Ruthless Desire

She meets my gaze, her expression hardening. "What do you want from me, Dante? Do you want me to say that I hate you? That I despise every moment of this twisted charade?"

I grip her chin, forcing her to hold my gaze. "I want the truth, Natalie. I want to know what you're hiding. What you're planning."

For a moment, we stand locked in a battle of wills, the air between us crackling with intensity. Then, slowly, her shoulders sag, the fight draining from her.

"You want the truth?" she says, her voice a whisper. "Fine. I hate you. I hate what you've done to me, what you've made me."

Her words are a knife to my gut, sharp and unyielding. But there's something else in her eyes, something that betrays the venom in her voice. Fear, yes. Anger, certainly. But beneath it all, a flicker of something softer, more dangerous.

I tighten my grip on her chin, my voice a low growl. "And yet, you stay. Why, Natalie? If you hate me so much, why haven't you tried to escape?"

She closes her eyes, a shudder running through her. "Because I know you won't let me. Because I'm a prisoner here, and no matter how hard I try, I can't forget that."

I release her abruptly, stepping back. Her words sting, but they also spark a twisted sense of satisfaction. She's scared. She knows her place. But that flicker of softness in her eyes—it needs to be extinguished.

Chapter 19 Natalie

The puppy's warm weight in my lap is a small comfort in this gilded cage. I stroke his silky fur, my fingers tracing the brindle patterns as I stare out the window at Shadowcrest's manicured grounds. The world beyond feels like a distant dream, a fading memory I can't quite grasp.

A burst of laughter from the TV catches my attention. It's some inane talk show, the host grinning as he announces the date. My breath catches, a sharp pain lancing through my chest.

Dad's birthday. How could I have forgotten?

The puppy whines, sensing my distress. I clutch him closer, burying my face in his fur to muffle the sob that threatens to escape. Dad. My rock, my protector. The only person who ever truly understood me. And now...

"Well, well. What's this?"

Dante's silken voice cuts through my reverie like a knife. I stiffen, hastily wiping away the tears that have escaped. When did he enter the room? How long has he been watching me?

"Nothing," I mutter, not meeting his eyes. "Just... thinking."

He moves closer, his presence a looming shadow that threatens to swallow me whole. "Thinking about what, solnyshko? You seem... distressed."

I swallow hard, weighing my options. Lying to Dante is dangerous - he has an uncanny ability to sniff out deceit. But telling the truth... that carries its own risks.

"It's my dad's birthday," I finally whisper, the words feeling like broken glass in my throat. "I just... I miss him."

Dante goes very still, the air around us growing thick with tension. When he speaks, his voice is deceptively soft. "Your father? The man who failed to protect you, who let you fall into my hands so easily?"

Anger flares in my chest, hot and bright. "He didn't know! He would never have let this happen if-"

"If what?" Dante cuts me off, his tone sharp as a razor. "If he'd bothered to pay attention? If he'd cared enough to keep you safe?"

I flinch, his words striking too close to the doubts that have plagued me in my darkest moments. "That's not fair," I protest weakly. "He loves me."

Dante's laugh is cold and humorless. "Love? Oh, my naive little bird. If that's what you call love, then you have no idea what true devotion looks like."

He crouches down in front of me, his dark eyes boring into mine. "I could show you, Natalie. I could give you a love so all-consuming it would make you forget your own name."

A shiver runs down my spine, equal parts fear and... something else. Something I don't want to name.

"Please," I whisper, hating the desperation in my voice. "Just... let me call him. Just for a few minutes. I need to hear his voice, to know he's okay."

For a moment, I think I see a flicker of something softer in Dante's eyes. But then it's gone, replaced by a cold fury that makes my blood run cold.

"No," he says, his voice like ice. "You will never speak to him again. You will never even think of him again. Do you understand me?"

Tears blur my vision, hot and stinging. "You can't do this," I choke out. "You can't just erase my past, my family-"

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