Page 72 of Ruthless Desire

A shudder runs through her, but I see the way her pupils dilate, the almost imperceptible arch of her body towards mine. Oh, my beautiful, broken girl. You can lie to yourself, but your body knows the truth.

"What are you going to do?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

I smile, slow and predatory. "I'm going to destroy them, solnyshko. Raze their empire to the ground, salt the earth so nothing will ever grow there again. And you..." I lean in close, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. "You're going to help me do it."

She gasps, a sound caught between fear and arousal. "I-I can't," she stammers. "I'm not like you, Dante. I'm not a killer."

I pull back, meeting her gaze. "You're more like me than you know, Natalie. I've seen the darkness in your art, the violence in your soul. You've just been too afraid to embrace it. Until now."

My hand slides to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair. "Let me show you," I murmur, my voice a dark promise. "Let me unlock the beast that lurks beneath your skin. Together, we'll paint the world in shades of blood and shadow."

For a long moment, she's silent, warring emotions playing across her face. Then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, she nods.

A thrill of triumph surges through me. I crush my mouth to hers, swallowing her gasp of surprise. The kiss is brutal, all teeth and tongue and dark hunger. She resists for a heartbeat, then melts into me with a broken moan.

I devour her, my hands roaming her body with possessive intent. She's mine, all mine, and I'll mark every inch of her to prove it.

When I finally pull away, we're both panting. Natalie's lips are swollen, her eyes glazed with a cocktail of lust and fear that sets my blood on fire.

"Rest now, moy voron," I tell her, my voice rough with need. "Tomorrow, we begin your training. Tomorrow, we start our war."

I stand, forcing myself to step away before I lose control completely. As I move towards the bedroom, I hear her voice, small and uncertain.

"Dante?"

I pause, looking back at her. "Yes, solnyshko?"

She meets my gaze, something unreadable in her eyes. "Promise me... promise me you won't let them take me. That you'll kill me yourself before you let that happen."

For a moment, I'm frozen, the words hitting me like a physical blow. Then I'm moving, crossing the room in two long strides. I grab her, pulling her against me with bruising force.

"Never," I growl, my lips brushing her forehead. "I'll die before I let anyone take you from me. You're mine, Natalie. Mine to protect, mine to possess, mine to love in my own twisted way."

She shudders in my arms, a sob catching in her throat. But she doesn't pull away. Instead, she burrows closer, as if she could crawl inside my skin and hide there.

"Okay," she whispers, the word muffled against my chest. "Okay."

I hold her for a long moment, breathing in the scent of her hair, feeling the beat of her heart against mine. Then I release her, stepping back before I can give in to the urge to throw her on the bed and claim her completely.

"Sleep," I order gently. "You'll need your strength."

She nods, curling back up on the couch. I watch her for a moment longer, drinking in the sight of her. Then I turn, retreating to the bedroom.

As I lie in the darkness, listening to the soft sound of Natalie's breathing from the other room, I feel a savage joy rising in my chest. The Corsini's thought they could take her from me, thought they could destroy what I've built.

They have no idea what's coming for them.

I am the monster that haunts the nightmares of lesser men. And when Natalie embraces the darkness within her... we'll be unstoppable.

Let the war begin. I've never felt more alive.

The plane touches down at a private airfield on the outskirts of Florence, the ancient city's skyline a breathtaking panorama of red-tiled roofs and historic spires bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun.

As we disembark, Natalie blinks in the bright sunlight, her expression a mix of awe and trepidation. I can practically hear her artist's soul singing at the beauty surrounding us, even as her body remains tense, poised for fight or flight.

"Welcome to la mia bella Italia," I murmur, placing a hand at the small of her back to guide her towards the waiting car. She flinches almost imperceptibly at my touch, a shiver rippling through her despite the warm Tuscan air.

The drive to the villa is spent in silence, Natalie's gaze fixed on the passing landscape. The undulating hills, dotted with ancient villages and groves of silver-leafed olive trees, seem to captivate her, offering a momentary escape from the dark reality of her situation.

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