03

Aurora

I arrived at Dante’s office the next morning with my head held high, ready to face the man who, in less than 24 hours, had managed to infiltrate my mind in ways I hated to admit. What I hated even more was that a part of me — the part I wanted to crush — couldn’t stop replaying his smile, the way he looked at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

Today would be different. I would stay in control.

"You’re on time, as you should be," he said as I walked in, his voice dripping with irony. He was leaning against his desk, arms crossed, studying me like a hunter sizing up his prey.

"I’m not here to please you," I shot back, crossing my arms.

His smile widened, and that only irritated me more. Dante seemed to live for testing people’s limits — and he was particularly interested in testing mine.

"Good. I like a little resistance," he said, picking up a thick envelope from the desk. He stepped closer, holding it out to me. "Read this."

I took the envelope without a word, but his proximity made me tense. His scent, his presence, everything about him was… overwhelming. I hated how he made the room feel smaller, how everything seemed to revolve around him.

I opened the envelope and flipped through the papers quickly. Purchase contracts, port operation records… enough to make any lawyer question the legality of what was inside.

"This is illegal," I stated, slamming the papers shut and tossing them back onto the desk.

"That’s why you’re here," he said calmly.

"You want me to be your accomplice."

"I want you to do your job." He stepped closer, and even though I didn’t want to, I found myself stepping back. Not because I was afraid, but because he seemed to suck all the air out of the room.

"You think you can just use me as another piece in your puzzle," I said, my voice firm but laced with anger. "But I’m not like your men, Dante. I’m not one of your things you can control."

He stopped, tilting his head to the side, and for a moment, I thought I had surprised him. But then he smiled — that slow, dark smile, like I had just confirmed something he already knew.

"Do you really believe that?" He took another step, and this time I didn’t back away. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

"You don’t have any power over me," I continued, even as my voice wavered slightly.

Before I could react, he was in front of me, too close, his hand reaching up to grasp my chin and lift my face. The intensity in his gaze made my heart race, but I refused to show it.

"You’re mistaken, Aurora," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, but loaded with danger. "I already have power over you because you’re here. Because you have no choice."

I tried to pull my face away, but his grip was firm—not painful, but unyielding. The heat of his hand against my skin was infuriatingly familiar, as if he had already found a way to brand himself into me.

"I hate you," I spat, my anger spilling over.

He smiled. "Good. Hate is better than indifference."

"Let go of me," I demanded, my voice steady.

For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t, but then he released me, as if to prove that he was in control even when he stopped. I stepped back, putting space between us, trying to regain the air he seemed to steal from me.

"You can’t do this," I said, trying to hide the tremor in my voice.

"Do what? Remind you that, no matter how much you try to hate me, you’re stuck here with me?" He took another step forward, but I raised a hand to stop him.

"I hate everything about you," I hissed. "The way you talk like you own everything. The way you think the world revolves around you. The way you think you can intimidate me."

He laughed, a deep sound that seemed to dance through the space between us. "And yet, here you are, Aurora. Because deep down, you know fighting me won’t change a thing."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to shove him against the wall and make him understand that he couldn’t control me, but I knew he was right. I was trapped, and he knew it.

"That doesn’t mean you’ve won," I said, lifting my chin.

"Not yet," he replied, the smile on his lips that of a predator who knew his prey was cornered.

"I will never give in to you," I declared, turning on my heel and leaving the room before he could respond.

As I walked down the hallway, I felt my heart pounding so hard it echoed in my ears. I hated Dante Moretti. I hated everything about him. But more than anything, I hated the way he made my body react, the way he made my self-control falter.

I needed a plan. I needed to figure out a way to escape this hell before he completely destroyed what little was left of me.