Page 34 of Impure Vows

As we leave the room, I feel the weight of his control pressing down on me. Each step in those damn heels feels like a surrender, but I have no choice. Not if I want to keep Sophia safe.

We walk through the lavish halls of his mansion, my eyes trained on the floor. The opulence around me is suffocating, a constant reminder of the power he holds. The staff we pass bow their heads in deference, not daring to look at me.

“Why do they all act like you’re some kind of king?” I mutter, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice. Each word feels like a small act of rebellion, but I can't help myself.

“Because I am,” he replies, a hint of amusement in his tone that makes my skin crawl. “And you’d do well to remember that.” His words, laced with a dark promise, hang in the air between us, a reminder of the power he wields over everyone in his domain—including me.

The room is packed with men in suits, all eyes turning towards me as I enter behind Dante. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat a reminder of the perilous situation I’ve found myself in. I keep my eyes down, as commanded, but I can feel their gazes, a mix of curiosity and wariness.

Dante’s hand rests possessively on the small of my back, guiding me through the throng. He stops in front of a large, ornate table where a group of men sit, their expressions a mix of respect and fear. One of them, an older man with graying hair, stands up and nods to Dante.

“Don Russo,” he greets, his voice reverent.

Don Russo? My eyes widen, but I quickly lower them again. Of course. It all makes sense now—the opulence, the power, the fear he instills. I soon learn I’m standing next to the don of the Russo crime family.

“Vito,” Dante acknowledges with a curt nod. “This is Aliyah.”

The man, Vito, glances at me, his eyes assessing. “She’s...unexpected.”

“Isn’t she?” Dante’s voice holds a note of amusement. “But she’s mine now. Any questions?”

“No, Don Russo,” Vito replies quickly, his gaze shifting away from me. The other men murmur amongst themselves, their curiosity palpable.

Dante’s hand tightens on my back, a silent command to keep moving. He leads me to a chair at the head of the table, pulling it out for me. I sit, feeling the weight of their stares, but keeping my eyes on the polished wood in front of me.

“Eyes down,” Dante murmurs in my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “Remember?”

I nod, swallowing hard.

He takes his seat beside me, exuding authority and control. The room falls silent as he begins to speak, outlining plans and giving orders with a calm, commanding tone. His men listen intently, their respect for him evident in every word and gesture.

As the discussion continues, I sneak peeks at the faces around the table. Their looks vary from intrigued to cautious, but none of them challenge Dante's choice to have me here. It's evident that in this realm, his command is absolute.

My new reality dawns on me with brutal clarity. Dante really is a king in his world, and I’m a pawn in his game. Every move I make, every word I say, is under his control. I’m fucked, and there’s no way out.

18

DANTE

The door to the private room creaks open, and I step inside, the thick haze of cigar smoke greeting me like an old friend. Laughter and the gritty murmur of high-stakes poker surround us, a symphony of vice and ambition. I feel Aliyah stiffen beside me, her high heels clicking softly against the worn wooden floor as she struggles to maintain her balance in the slinky dress I chose for her.

"Stay close and behave," I tell her, my voice low and dark. Her wide, expressive eyes meet mine for a second before she nods, looking every bit the part of mafia eye candy.

We move through the room, heads turning to acknowledge my presence. My men give respectful nods, while the other players scrutinize Aliyah with a mixture of curiosity and desire. I catch the gaze of one particularly bold man who looks a little too long, and I let my stare linger, making it clear she's off fucking limits.

"Nice to see you, Dante," Tony says, shuffling a deck of cards at the head of the table. "Who's the new addition?"

"None of your concern," I reply, my tone hard and final, leaving no room for argument. With a firm grip on Aliyah's arm,I guide her to a seat beside me, making sure she's within arm's reach. I want everyone to see she's under my protection, and more importantly, under my control.

Tony raises an eyebrow but doesn't push it. "Suit yourself. Ready to lose some money tonight?"

I chuckle, leaning back in my chair. "We'll see about that."

Aliyah shifts uncomfortably, her gaze darting around the room. I place a hand on her thigh, squeezing gently. "Relax," I whisper. "You're safe with me."

She swallows hard, nodding again. Her fingers tremble as she reaches for the glass of water in front of her. I notice, and it amuses me. The fear in her eyes is almost intoxicating.

The game begins, and I focus on the cards, the banter, the subtle cues from the other players. Aliyah's presence is a constant distraction, though, a reminder of my power and control. She's a beautiful pawn in a much larger game, and I intend to play it well.

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