Chapter 26 Exclusive Rights
A desperate whimper escaped her lips, but before she could protest, he stepped in between her legs, grabbing her hips firmly. In one swift, brutal thrust, he filled her with his cock.
Anya cried out, her fingers clawing at his shoulders as he drove into her deeply, picking up where his fingers left off—but harder, rougher.
“I want to feel you fall apart around me,” Dante growled against her ear, his hips snapping against hers, dragging her toward release once more. “You don’t get to cum until I say so.”
Her body trembled violently, the fire inside her rising beyond control. She clung to him, helpless, every thrust sending her closer to the edge than the last.
Before her breathing had steadied, he scooped her into his arms again, carrying her back to the bed like she weighed nothing. He laid her down gently, but the look in his eyes was anything but calm.
He settled between her thighs once more, spreading her open. His mouth found her clit again—slow, rough strokes of his tongue drawing new whimpers from her lips. She gasped, her fingers threading through his hair as her hips rose toward him, completely at his mercy.
“Dante,” she moaned, but he didn’t answer.
He worshipped her with his mouth, licking her like he’d never get another chance. And in his mind, he wouldn’t waste a second. Not after what they had been through. Not after she’d looked him in the eyes and let him back into her heart.
That night, he didn’t stop.
Again and again, he made love to her—sometimes gentle, sometimes rough. Every kiss was a thank you. Every touch a vow. Every thrust a desperate promise that he would never hurt her again.
He kissed her trembling shoulders. Her wrists. Her stomach. Her thighs.
And when she lay beneath him, spent and breathless, he brushed a strand of hair from her face and whispered hoarsely, “Thank you… for giving me another chance to be yours.”
All he wanted was her—and he showed it over and over until the first light of morning painted the room with gold.
***
The sound of commotion echoed through the marble halls of Kingsley Manor.
“You should’ve just finished the damn job when I told you to ruin that girl!” Janet’s shrill voice screamed, eyes blazing as she glared at the security guard standing silently before her.
Dante froze mid-step at the entrance of the house, his brows furrowing.
Janet stood in the center of the hall, arms flailing as she barked at a security guard.
“That arrogant bitch!” Janet was seething. “If you’d just ruined her that day and tossed her to the streets, she would’ve known who I am! How dare she hide the fact that she’s Carter’s daughter? And then not even showing up at the restaurant when I asked her so damn nicely!”
“What the hell did you just say?” Dante’s chilling voice echoed through the house.
Janet turned around sharply, her face draining of color when she saw Dante standing there. Her throat went dry, eyes darting in panic from Dante to the guard.
“It’s nothing,” she said quickly, laughing nervously. “Just nonsense. I was upset. You—leave now!” she snapped at the guard, trying to shove him away.
“Stay.” Dante pointed a finger, freezing the guard in place as he stormed inside the house.
“What are you talking about?” Dante demanded. His tone was razor sharp. “What did you do to Anya?”
“It’s nothing!” Janet blurted again, trying to smooth it over. “I was just angry—”
Dante raised his hand in her face and then turned to the guard. “You. TALK.”
The guard looked like he might wet himself on the spot under Dante’s icy stare. Trembling, he pulled out his phone from his pocket and handed it over with shaky hands.
“S-Sir… I-I didn’t want to do it… It was Mrs. Kingsley. She made me. I had no choice,” he stammered.
Dante snatched the phone, playing the video. The sound echoed through the vast hallway. Hearing the voices, Griffin also emerged from his room, his brow furrowed, and came to stand next to Dante to see the video.
It showed everything that Janet had done to Anya on the day that she humiliated her.
And by the end of that video, Dante was shaking with rage.
Janet, now realizing she was cornered, looked terrified. But then her expression hardened. Her fake innocence melted away, revealing bitterness and contempt.
“So what?!” she shouted. “She’s the one who barged into our house and tried to seduce you! That street rat! Did you really think I’d let her stay in this house?”
“I brought her into this house,” Griffin stepped forward, voice sharp. “ My house , Janet.”
And then—SLAP! His hand connected with her face. Janet stumbled back, eyes wide with shock.
Her head lifted in shock, but Dante’s face remained cold, and Griffin was raging.
“You’re living in my house,” Griffin seethed. “You don’t get to decide who’s welcome here. Get out of here! How dare you make that child go through something like this? Have you lost your damn mind?”
Janet’s face paled.
“Until you apologize to Anya,” Dante’s voice was dangerously calm, “and until she forgives you, I won’t have anything to do with you.” He turned around without sparing Janet another glance and stormed out of the house.
Janet’s body jerked, coming out of the shock.
She gasped, immediately chasing after him. “How can you say that? I’m your mother! Are you really going to do this to me—for that girl? This much disrespect?!”
But Dante didn’t stop. He walked out as her voice turned to screeches behind him. He didn’t look back.
“You! Leave this house within an hour,” Griffin snapped at Janet, his tone steely. “Neither Anya nor Dante will forgive you for what you did. And I can’t keep someone like you under my roof anymore. Get out. Right now.”
Janet broke into tears.
“How can you say that, Dad? I’m your daughter-in-law! You’re throwing me out like I’m nothing? I’ve lived here my whole life! Where am I even supposed to go?”
Griffin’s eyes were void of sympathy. “Is that my problem?” His voice dropped to a disgusted whisper. “Get out before I call security. I’ll make sure they throw you out with your bags. You’ll never step into this house again. You’ve dirtied it enough with your cruelty. I’m disgusted by you, Janet. You’re a huge disappointment. How can you be so blind with greed that you’d stoop this low?”
Janet’s whole body trembled, frozen in place.
But as Griffin had ordered, within the hour, she was thrown out, and banned from setting foot inside Kingsley Manor ever again.
***
Dante stormed out of his car, his strides long and furious as he marched toward Anya’s new apartment. Rain crashed down in thick sheets, drenching him instantly, but he didn’t care. The burning rage inside him was louder than the thunder.
He grabbed the door handle and shoved it open, the force of his rage echoing in the slam behind him. The apartment door was unlocked—carelessly so—but he didn’t care. The rain clung to him, water dripping from his hair, soaking through his clothes, but the storm inside him burned hotter.
Anya rushed out of her room at the sound, alarm flashing across her face. Her eyes widened as she saw him, her breath catching in her throat.
“Dante? What happened?” Her brows drew together in confusion, concern flickering in her gaze as she took in his drenched state.
He didn’t speak at first. He just stormed toward her, eyes wild with emotion. Grabbing her shoulders, he snatched her closer to himself.
“Why didn’t you tell me what my mother did to you?!” he snapped. “When you left my house, why didn’t you say anything?”
Anya stilled. Her entire body stiffened, her lips parted slightly. “…You know about it?”
His jaw clenched. “I saw everything,” he said, voice rough. “On a video. Every damn second of it.”
She tensed. A flicker of shame crossed her face as she looked away. “It was already over. I didn’t want to make it worse,” she murmured.
“Anya!” he exploded, eyes blazing. “This wasn’t some petty fight—she humiliated you! Hurt you! And you still thought you needed to stay silent?”
“It wasn’t your fault,” she said softly, placing a calming hand on his arm. “I never blamed you. Or Grandpa Griffin. But your mom—”
“You don’t have to forgive her,” he cut in sharply, eyes darkening. “I’m not asking for that. I’d never ask that of you. She crossed every damn line. I turned a blind eye to her actions all my life because I thought it didn’t matter. I could afford all the money she ever needed. But this?” His voice cracked. “What she did to you… is unforgivable.”
His arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a desperate hug. Her face pressed into his neck as he whispered into her hair, “I’ll never let anyone hurt you again. Not even a little. Not ever.”
***
Dante strode toward the executive wing—but this time, it wasn’t his own office he was heading for. It was Luca Stanson’s.
He paused briefly outside, his eyes flicking to the nameplate on the door, jaw tightening. Then, without knocking, he pushed it open.
Luca looked up from his laptop, clearly annoyed at the intrusion. The irritation flickered across his face like a reflex, as if he were ready to snap. But when he saw who it was, the irritation didn’t explode—it froze. His expression shifted into a calm, cold disinterest as he glanced back down at his screen.
“She’s not here,” he said flatly. “If you’re looking for Anya.”
“I came to talk to you,” Dante replied coolly.
That made Luca look up again. This time, he slowly stood from his seat.
Dante walked in fully, his suit still crisp from the office. He approached Luca with a casual air of arrogance.
“I’ve already spoken to Anya,” he said. A slight tilt of his head betrayed the smirk beneath. “There are no more issues between us. We’ve made up.”
Luca folded his arms across his chest, hip leaning against his table, and stared at him with a dry, unimpressed look. “Wow. Amazing. You’re very great. Good job.”
Dante’s lip twitched, irritation crawling under his skin. He stepped closer.
“Since you know I’m so great,” he said, voice sharpening, “you should stop chasing a woman who’s already mine. We’re getting married. Soon. And it doesn’t look good when you’re still hitting on someone who’s taken—it reeks of desperation.”
‘This guy.’ Luca almost laughed. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the snicker. ‘Even after I handed Anya over myself, he still comes here to brag and throw warnings around?’
But his face stayed blank, indifferent. “Since you’re not m arried yet, what you say doesn’t count. I still have a chance. Mr. Carter had already agreed to marry her to me.”
Dante’s eyes blazed.
He took another step forward, face-to-face with Luca now, his presence imposing, threatening. But Luca didn’t flinch. He remained right where he was, speaking with the same unshaken arrogance.
“It’s just that Anya chose you to marry,” Luca said, lips curling slightly. “That’s the only reason Mr. Carter accepted you. So you don’t have to show off in front of me. When she gets bored of your temper and tantrums, she’ll come back to me. And then, I’ll make sure she stays mine.”
Dante’s entire body went still. His expression darkened— dangerous .
Luca had seen many powerful men snap. But Dante? He looked like he was two seconds away from snapping Luca in half and leaving his bones in some abandoned country, with no return ticket and no name to trace.
But Luca only let out a low laugh and shook his head. “Look at your behavior. Your attitude. I seriously don’t know what Anya sees in you.”
Dante’s face softened just a little at the mention of her, but he raised his chin and said, “Anya’s got a kind heart. That’s why. She’s good—better than both of us. But you?” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t like you. Still, you're good at your job. So after I marry her, don’t worry. We’ll let you keep your job.”
Luca gave him a long, unamused stare. “Wow. Thank you, my lord. How generous of you.”
And with that, he sat back down, returning to his laptop as if Dante didn’t exist.
Dante followed him, hands in his pockets, walking over with casual arrogance before leaning his back against Luca’s desk.
He glanced down at the laptop as Luca’s fingers worked the keyboard and muttered with a frown,
“…Why aren’t you married yet?” he asked suddenly. “Don’t you have anything better to do than chase after someone else’s woman?”
Luca glanced up, raising an eyebrow. Then slowly, he turned his chair to face him.
“You already have a girlfriend. Why are you not married yet?”
Dante immediately stiffened. “I am going to marry her!” he barked. “I’ve just been… a little busy lately and didn’t get the chance.”
"So you think I'm not busy?" Luca asked dryly.
Dante straightened, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he let out a sharp huff. "Forget it. I’m going to get a diamond ring for Anya right now." His voice was edged with frustration. Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and stormed out.
Luca’s brows arched, and he stood up with a scoff, pushing his chair back. "Fine. I’ll get one too," he said, matching Dante’s strides as he followed him out. "Just in case I have to stand next to the altar and replace you."
Dante’s deadly gaze cut to him, almost burning Luca to ashes.
An hour later, both men entered Max Mall. It was an extravagant empire of glass and luxury, built for the top one percent of the city. It wasn’t just the biggest mall; it was the kind of place where even the rich dared not touch the price tags. Only those born into obscene wealth shopped here.
The moment Dante and Luca walked in—two tall, devastatingly attractive men in tailored suits—eyes turned. Conversations paused. Women, dressed to kill, couldn’t help but stare. Some subtly fixed their hair, others openly followed the two with hungry gazes, desperate to catch even a second of attention.
But Dante and Luca were blind to the storm of hormones they had stirred. They walked side by side, heading straight toward the largest jewelry boutique in the mall.
"This one," Dante said under his breath, pointing at a gleaming diamond ring the store manager had just presented.
"Excellent choice, sir," the manager gushed, clasping his hands.
Luca leaned forward, inspecting the ring with a tilted head. "This one’s too big," he muttered, wiggling his fingers in the air as he imagined the weight. "It’ll feel heavy on the hand."
Dante shrugged. "It shouldn’t. I’ll just get a replica made with a smaller diamond."
Luca glanced at Dante as if he’d lost his mind. "Marriage rings are precious," he said. "You don’t swap them out like car parts."
Dante narrowed his eyes, then quietly slid the ring onto Luca’s smallest finger without warning.
"Hey!" Luca flinched, his eyes widening.
"Does it really feel that heavy?" Dante asked, watching him.
Luca wiggled his finger, frowning. "Not really. But on more delicate fingers, it might hurt to wear for long.”
Dante turned to the manager. "Do you have something with a smaller diamond for a wedding ring? I’ll take this one too, just in case."
"Of course, sir." The manager beamed, flicking his gaze between the two of them with amusement. "It’s so sweet how careful you both are with each other for your marriage. I can already tell—it’s going to be a very happy one."
Dante and Luca froze.
They turned to each other at the exact same moment, eyes wide, faces contorted in visible horror, and then looked at the manager.
"Try making your partner wear this one, sir," the manager continued cheerfully, handing a different ring to Dante and grabbing Luca’s hand again. "His fingers are more slender. I think this style suits him better. It’s okay if he prefers something a little more femini—"
"I’m getting married to my wife ," Dante snapped, stepping away like he’d been electrocuted.
Luca jumped too, practically flinging his hand away from the ring. Their mutual expression was one of utter disgust, as if they'd just found out they’d been holding hands with a snake.
"Not him." Dante’s jaw clenched as he shot Luca a glare full of boiling outrage. "A woman. Her name’s Anya."
“Ah… sorry, sorry, sir.” The manager’s lips twitched like he was about to laugh but forced a quick bow instead. "Ah—yes! Yes, sir. My apologies." He coughed, turning swiftly to the display case. "Right this way…"
He pulled out another ring—this one surrounded with smaller diamonds, more delicate in design. "How about this, sir?"
Luca slipped next to Dante again, who turned the ring toward him, rolling it between his fingers thoughtfully.
"This one looks nice," he murmured.
Luca nodded solemnly, “Might fit her finger.”
***
Anya shivered.
Dante’s warm breath hit her skin first, followed by the slow, tantalizing brush of his nose as it grazed up her shoulder to the curve of her neck. His lips didn’t touch her yet, but the nearness alone made her tremble. Her lips trembled with a soft moan.
Then he growled—low, quiet, almost involuntary.
Anya turned her head, and her eyes met his. Dante’s were closed. But as soon as she moved, he opened them and stared straight into her soul.
His lips lowered, brushing hers in a slow, lingering kiss that melted everything else away. When he finally pulled back, it was only to lift her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her fingers.
Then, out of the blue, he slid a ring onto her finger, and leaned close, whispering against her ear—
"You're getting married to me."
Her breath caught. She looked down at her hand, eyes widening when she saw a delicate, glittering ring sitting perfectly on her ring finger.
"Oh my gosh…" she gasped, stunned.
Before she could say more, he turned her gently onto her back. His bare body pressed against hers, warmth and weight grounding her. One elbow braced on the mattress beside her, the other hand caressed her cheek, his eyes full of affection.
"I want one thing before our marriage from you," he said, voice soft but serious.
Her brows knitted slightly. He had never asked her for anything before, so the request surprised her. “Yes?”
He leaned in, brushing a kiss to her cheek, then trailing his lips down to her neck—leaving slow, lingering kisses that made her toes curl.
"I want…" he whispered against her skin.
A soft shiver ran through her as pleasure surged, and her eyes fluttered closed.
"I want exclusive rights to gift you rings."
Lost in pleasure, his words barely registered in her mind. “What..?”
"Rings," he repeated, kissing lower, his lips roaming the column of her neck, already covered with his hickeys, yet still not enough for him. Her neck was his favorite place to kiss, he was addicted to the way she trembled beneath his mouth. His tongue teased her skin in slow, warm licks.
"Promise me," he murmured. "No one else gets to give you a ring. Not even a girl. Only me."
The seriousness in his tone made her eyes blink open. And despite the heat curling through her body, a soft laugh slipped from her lips.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, but his hand moved up to her chest, fingers brushing over her bare skin, his thumb lazily circling her nipple.
Her laugh quickly dissolved into a moan.
"Don’t laugh." he growled.
Her eyes opened, locking with his. A teasing smile danced at the corners of her lips.
"Does it matter that much to you?"
He nodded instantly, sincerity written all over his face, boyish yet intense, his innocence laced with obsession.
"I don’t like it," he confessed softly. His fingers stroked her nipple with featherlight touches, making her thighs tighten around his hips and her breath hitch sharply.
"Please?” he mumbled. “Promise me. I will give you all the rings in the world. Whichever one you want. One every day, for the rest of your life. No matter how rare, how expensive—I’ll get it. Just don’t take a ring from anyone else. Only I can put rings on your hand."
She pressed her lips tightly to hide the smile threatening to break free, then settled into a serious, almost stern expression.
“If I say no, are you not going to marry me?” she asked, eyes locked on his.
His scowl came instantly, sharp and fierce. “How can that be?” Without warning, his fingers pinched her nipple hard.
“Ahh!” she gasped, burying her head into his neck to hide the sound.
He chuckled, low and rough. “I told you. You’re marrying me. I’m not giving you a choice.”
His mouth descended on her neck again, teeth and tongue working mercilessly. Biting, licking, dragging just enough to send a shock of pain and pleasure rippling through her skin. She writhed beneath him, unable to control the shivers that ran over her.
Then, pulling back, his eyes locked with hers, intense and demanding. “Promise me.”
A sly smirk curved her lips. “No.”
His frown deepened, darkening his features. Then, without a word, he disappeared under the sheets.
“Wait—” she started, breath hitching as his lips ghosted down her skin. He didn’t stop—kissed, licked, sucked, relentless in his teasing until her whole body trembled, cries breaking free despite her best efforts.
When he finally positioned himself between her legs, her mind shattered completely.
Dante made her cum over and over, each time pushing her closer to the edge until she was trembling and gasping beneath him. Finally, desperate and breathless, she begged, “I can’t take it anymore!”
His voice dropped low and rough as he demanded again, “Promise me. No ring from anyone but me.”
She finally breathed, “I promise… alright?! Just from you.”
That simple vow pulled a satisfied growl from deep in his throat. He slid up her body, cupped her face in his hands, and crushed his lips to hers in a fierce, breathless kiss.
Then without warning, he thrust inside her hard and mercilessly, driving her wild with pain and pleasure as she cried out his name over and over, lost in the relentless torment he gave her—day and night.