Page 7 of Auctioned to the Mobster

I look down at my plate, my heart doing strange things in my chest. “I don’t understand you.”

He reaches across the table, his fingers brushing mine. It’s a small gesture, but it sends warmth through me. “You don’t need to understand, Emily. You just need to trust me.”

I bite my lip, staring at his hand on mine. “And what if I can’t? What if I don’t belong in your world?”

There’s a silence that stretches between us. His hand tightens over mine. “My world is dangerous,” he admits, his voice low. “But you’re safer with me than anywhere else. I promise you that.”

I want to believe him. I want to trust him. But every time I think about the weapons I saw, the stacks of cash, the hidden rooms... I’m reminded of just how dangerous his world is. And I don’t know if I can survive in it.

Still, there’s something about him, something that draws me in despite my better judgment. He makes me feel safe, even thoughI know I shouldn’t feel that way. I know I should keep my distance, but when he’s close, like now, it’s impossible.

“You don’t have to worry,” he says, his voice softer now. “I’ll protect you, Principessa.”

His words make my chest tighten. There’s a part of me that wants to believe him, to trust him. But another part of me knows that being close to Dante means stepping into his world—a world I’m not sure I’m ready for.

Chapter Six

Dante

I sit on the edge of the bed, the weight of everything pressing down on me. Emily is in the next room, probably getting ready for bed or reading some book she found on the shelf. She always seems so calm; I don’t know how she does it. I, on the other hand, am losing my damn mind. Every day that passes, every time I see her, it gets harder and harder to keep my distance.

Here I am, sitting in the dark, thinking about her in ways I shouldn’t. The way she looks at me with those wide, innocent eyes… it does something to me. It makes me want to protect her, to keep her safe from everything, including myself. But at the same time, I want her in ways that I can’t control.

There’s a knock on the door, soft and hesitant. My heart skips a beat. I know it’s her.

“Dante?” Her voice is quiet, almost nervous.

I get up and open the door, and there she is, standing in one of my shirts, her hair loose around her shoulders. She looks up at me, and for a moment, I can’t move. Can’t breathe.

“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice rougher than I intended.

She bites her lip, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I couldn’t sleep,” she admits. “I just... I don’t know, I guess I wanted to see you.”

Her words hit me harder than they should. I step aside, letting her in, and she walks past me, her bare feet padding softly against the hardwood floor.

She turns back to me, her eyes meeting mine. “I feel... safe with you,” she says softly like she’s confessing some deep truth.

That does it. I can’t hold back anymore. In two strides, I’m in front of her, my hands gripping her arms, pulling her close. Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t pull away. She never does. She trusts me. And that’s what scares me the most.

I lower my head, my lips hovering over hers. “Emily,” I whisper, my voice strained. “I won’t be able to restrain myself this time.”

Her breath catches, but she doesn’t move. Instead, her hands come up, resting lightly on my chest. “I know,” she whispers back. “I don’t want you to.”

That’s all it takes. My mouth crashes into hers, and suddenly, I’m lost. Lost in her. The kiss is hungry, desperate, like we’ve both been holding back for too long. My hands move to herwaist, pulling her closer, and she gasps against my lips, her fingers gripping the front of my shirt.

I pull back just enough to look at her, my forehead resting against hers. “Are you sure?” I ask, my voice barely more than a growl. “I need you to be sure, Emily.”

She nods, her breath coming in short, shaky gasps. “I’m sure,” she whispers, her hands tightening on my shirt.

That’s all the permission I need.

I scoop her up in my arms, carrying her to the bed. I lay her down gently, my hands moving to unbutton the shirt she’s wearing. I have to force myself to go slow, to be gentle. This is her first time, and I’m not going to hurt her.

“Dante...” she whispers, her voice trembling, but there’s no fear in it. Just anticipation.

I kiss her again, softer this time, my hands sliding up her sides, feeling every curve of her body. She arches beneath me, her fingers tangling in my hair, and it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to lose myself completely.

When I finally pull back, her shirt is on the floor, and she’s looking up at me with wide, trusting eyes. My chest tightens at the sight. She’s so fucking beautiful. And she’s giving herself to me. Completely.

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