The lights at Inferno were dimmer than usual.
The air thicker.
And Raven's skin itched like someone had written secrets across it in ink only Dante could read.
She'd barely stepped through the front doors before Luca—the man with dead eyes and a silent gait—appeared beside her.
"Boss wants you upstairs."
No questions. No delay.
Room 13.
Again.
The hallway felt longer this time. Or maybe her steps just felt heavier.
She didn't knock.
She never needed to anymore.
Inside, Dante sat in the center of the room. Alone. No suit jacket tonight—just black slacks and a dark shirt rolled to his elbows, exposing the tattoos that twisted up his forearms like snakes hungry for flesh.
The file from the Bratva sat on the table.
Unopened.
But not untouched.
He didn't speak when she entered.
He didn't even look up.
Just gestured to the chair across from him.
"Sit."
She did.
Slowly.
Silently.
Heart hammering.
Because she knew whatever was coming—it wouldn't be gentle.
🖤 The Game Begins"Do you know why you're here?" Dante asked.
His voice was calm. Controlled.
Too calm.
Raven straightened. "You said you wanted to see me."
"I want answers."
"To what?"
He lifted the folder, tapped it lightly. "To this."
"What is it?"
"Bratva surveillance. Photos. Logs. Phone records."
Her spine stiffened.
Dante finally looked up, and the storm behind his eyes nearly shattered her.
"Tell me something, Raven."
"What?"
"How long have you been working for them?"
She blinked. "I haven't—"
He slammed his hand down on the table.
Loud. Sudden.
She flinched.
"Don't lie to me," he growled. "Not tonight."
"I'm not working for them," she said evenly. "But they know about me."
"Why?"
"Because they've been watching you."
He leaned back slowly, rage simmering just beneath his skin.
"They sent you, didn't they?"
"No," she snapped, standing. "I'm not with them. I've never been. I'm—"
"—working for someone else."
Silence.
She looked away.
And that was all he needed.
He stood, circled the table, stopped inches from her.
"Who is it?" he asked coldly. "FBI? CIA? A rival family? Tell me now, or I swear—"
"Does it matter?" she cut in.
That caught him off guard.
"Because you're already in too deep," she said. "We both are."
He stared at her like he wanted to drag the truth from her skin.
But he didn't move.
Didn't touch her.
Didn't breathe.
Then—
"Strip," he ordered.
🔥 Obedience and FireShe didn't hesitate this time.
Her hands moved slowly. Deliberately.
The dress dropped first.
Then the lace beneath it.
Until she stood before him—bare, exposed, proud.
Dante reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin black silk ribbon.
Not rope.
Not cuffs.
Choice.
He held it out.
"Your hands," he said.
Her heart thundered.
Still, she gave them to him.
He tied them together—not tight, not painful—but enough to remind her: You gave this to me.
Then he stepped behind her.
Ran his hands slowly down her arms. Her waist. Her hips.
His voice was a whisper.
"Tell me the truth, Raven."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because if I do," she whispered, "you'll never look at me the same."
He pressed a kiss to her neck. "Try me."
She turned slowly.
Looked him in the eye.
"I was sent to destroy you."
He paused.
One breath.
Two.
Then: "Who sent you?"
She said nothing.
Not a word.
So he picked her up—arms bound—and carried her to the velvet lounge couch like she weighed nothing.
"Then destroy me," he whispered. "But do it while you're mine."
🖤 Pleasure and PunishmentThe ribbon stayed.
But so did she.
And when he claimed her again—rough, deep, aching—it wasn't revenge.
It was desperation.
They moved like two enemies trapped in the same fire. Each kiss a strike. Each moan a surrender.
And when she finally cried out his name, her hands still tied, her body shaking beneath his—
He kissed her temple.
Like a goodbye.
🕯️ AfterThey lay in silence.
No words.
No lies.
Just the sound of the city bleeding through the glass.
Dante turned his head slowly.
"What's your real name?"
She blinked at the ceiling.
"Raven."
"That's your code name."
"Yes."
He waited.
She didn't speak.
He exhaled.
"I should kill you," he said softly.
"I know."
"I should hand you over to the Bratva. Let them do the dirty work."
"I know."
He reached over, untied the ribbon around her wrists.
But didn't let go.
"I want to know everything," he said. "Before I lose whatever's left of my fucking mind."
🩸 Elsewhere – Unknown LocationA man in a white suit watched the live feed on a projector screen.
Dante. Raven. Room 13.
Every moan. Every whisper. Every moment captured in high definition.
He smiled coldly.
Turned to his associate.
"Move the timeline up," he said. "We take him in two days."
"And the girl?"
"She's already served her purpose."
The screen froze on her face.
Eyes wide.
Mouth parted.
Skin glistening with sweat.
"Kill her."