Crimson Secret

The city shimmered in the distance, a mosaic of twinkling lights and unseen dangers. The penthouse loomed ahead, but the chill between Dante and Alessia wasn’t just from the night air. Silence filled the car as Dante gripped the wheel, navigating the deserted streets with practiced ease, yet his thoughts were a whirlwind.

They parked in the underground garage, and Alessia stepped out, her movements graceful but tight with unspoken tension. She could feel Dante’s eyes on her as they made their way to the elevator. Neither spoke. Not until the door closed behind them, trapping them in the narrow space where the weight of their unsaid words pressed like the walls were closing in.

“I’m not your weakness, Dante,” Alessia finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. But the vulnerability that peeked through her usual calm demeanor made her statement seem more like a plea.

Dante turned to her, his dark eyes intense, piercing through her like a blade. “You are, Alessia. And that’s what makes this dangerous.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but before she could, the elevator dinged, announcing their arrival. The doors slid open, and Dante stepped out, his long strides eating up the distance to his office. Alessia followed, the tension between them crackling in the air like a live wire.

In his office, Dante poured himself a glass of scotch, his hand steady despite the chaos raging inside him. He took a slow sip, his gaze fixated on the skyline. Alessia lingered by the door, unsure whether to approach him or leave him to his thoughts.

“You think this can keep going like this?” she asked, breaking the silence.

Dante didn’t turn to face her. “It has to.”

“For how long?” Alessia pressed, stepping closer. “Until Sergei gets what he wants? Until your empire falls? Or until—”

“Until I’m dead?” Dante cut her off, his voice cold and sharp. “That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”

Alessia’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t meant to say it, but the thought had been lurking in the back of her mind. Sergei would come for Dante with everything he had, and she knew Dante’s pride wouldn’t let him back down. And in their world, pride was often the reason men like Dante ended up in a pool of their own blood.

“Dante...” Her voice softened, her heart aching with words she wasn’t sure she was ready to say. But before she could find them, he turned to her, his expression unreadable.

“I can’t afford to care, Alessia,” he said, his voice lower now, more dangerous. “Not about you, not about anyone. Because if I do, Sergei will take it all.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, but she refused to let him see the hurt. She stood her ground, meeting his gaze with a steely resolve. “I’m not asking you to care. I’m asking you to survive. And if you keep letting Sergei play these games, neither of us will.”

Dante downed the rest of his scotch, his jaw clenched. He knew she was right, but the truth was a bitter pill to swallow. Caring about Alessia had made him vulnerable, and vulnerability in their world was a death sentence. But pushing her away... he wasn’t sure he could do it. Not anymore.

Before he could respond, a sharp knock echoed through the office. The door swung open, and Marco stepped in, his face grim.

“We have a problem,” he said, his voice tight. “Sergei’s men. They’ve hit one of our distribution centers on the east side.”

Dante’s eyes narrowed. “Casualties?”

“Two of our guys are down. And there’s more,” Marco hesitated, glancing at Alessia before continuing. “There’s chatter that Sergei’s targeting your inner circle.”

Dante’s blood ran cold. “You mean Alessia.”

Marco nodded. “He’s making it personal.”

A muscle in Dante’s jaw ticked. This was it. The move Sergei had been waiting to make. He’d tested the waters, and now he was going for the kill. And Dante knew that if he didn’t act fast, Alessia would be the one to pay the price.

“I want extra security on her,” Dante ordered, his voice hard as steel.

“No,” Alessia interjected, stepping forward. “I don’t need protection. I can handle myself.”

“This isn’t up for debate,” Dante snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Sergei’s coming for you. You’re not going anywhere without protection.”

Alessia’s eyes flashed with anger. “I didn’t sign up for this to be babysat, Dante. I’m not some damsel you need to protect.”

“I know exactly what you’re capable of,” Dante growled, stepping closer, his voice low and dangerous. “But this isn’t about what you want. It’s about making sure Sergei doesn’t get to you. And I’m not losing you.”

The admission hung in the air between them, raw and unguarded. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of Dante’s words sinking in.

Marco cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “I’ll get the men in place.”

Dante nodded, and Marco slipped out of the room, leaving them alone once again. But the air between them was different now, charged with an intensity neither of them could deny.

Alessia’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths as she looked at Dante, her heart hammering in her chest. She had spent so long guarding her emotions, keeping everyone at arm’s length, but with Dante, it was impossible. He had gotten under her skin, just as she had gotten under his.

“I don’t want you to lose me either,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dante’s eyes locked onto hers, and in that moment, something shifted between them. The walls they had both carefully built around themselves began to crumble, brick by brick, leaving them exposed and vulnerable in a way they hadn’t been before.

But before either of them could act on the unspoken emotions swirling between them, the door burst open, and one of Dante’s men rushed in, his face pale.

“Boss,” he panted, his eyes wide with panic. “We’ve got a situation. Sergei’s men... they’ve taken Marco.”

Dante’s blood turned to ice. Marco. His most trusted lieutenant. The man who had been by his side through every battle, every betrayal. And now he was in Sergei’s hands.

“How?” Dante demanded, his voice a dangerous growl.

“They ambushed him on the way to the safehouse,” the man explained. “They knew his route. It was a setup.”

Dante’s mind raced, fury and panic warring within him. Sergei had crossed a line. He had made this war personal, and now Dante had no choice but to retaliate. But as much as he wanted to tear Sergei apart with his bare hands, he knew he had to be smart. One wrong move, and Marco was as good as dead.

“We’ll get him back,” Alessia said, her voice steady and calm. “But we need a plan.”

Dante nodded, his mind already racing through the possibilities. This wasn’t just about Marco. It was about sending a message. Sergei thought he could outplay Dante, but he was about to learn the hard way that Dante Bianchi was not a man to be trifled with.

“We’re going to war,” Dante said, his voice cold and deadly. “And this time, we’re not playing by the rules.”