8. Chapter Six #2
"The show is over. Your body is for my eyes only," I state simply. "You've performed well today. Return to your room and wait for me there."
For a moment, she looks as if she might argue. Instead, she clutches the jacket closer, her fingers white-knuckled against the dark fabric.
"Yes, Dante," she replies, the forced submission in her tone belied by the rebellion burning in her eyes.
I watch her leave, my jacket draped around her like a claim of ownership more potent than any diamond.
I find her an hour later, sitting at the window in her bedroom, still wrapped in my jacket despite the warm temperature I maintain in here for her.
She's drawn her knees to her chest beneath the garment, making herself smaller. Her hair falls forward, obscuring her face, but I can feel the fury radiating from her in waves.
"You can take it off now," I command, closing the door behind me.
She looks up, eyes blazing. "Which? The jacket or what's beneath it? Or does it matter, since apparently I'm just furniture to be displayed for your business associates?"
I approach slowly, savoring her controlled rage. "The jacket, Francesca. Keep the lingerie on. I enjoy looking at what belongs to me."
She stands, shrugging off the garment and letting it fall to the floor between us. She's fully exposed again in the black lace, but she somehow appears more powerful than before, her near-nudity transformed into armor through sheer force of will.
"Dante… I've never been so humiliated," she says, voice steady despite the emotion behind it. "Not even when my father paraded me before potential husbands like breeding stock."
"Your father was a fool who didn't understand your value," I reply, surprising both of us with my response. "You were magnificent today."
She blinks, confusion momentarily replacing anger. "Magnificent? I served drinks wearing practically nothing while being pawed by a monster."
I shake my head, moving to stand directly before her.
"No, Francesca. Let me tell you what I saw…" I make sure to look her in the eyes, and when I do, my heart damn near explodes. "You walked into that room of dangerous men wearing nothing but lace, yet you were the most powerful person there."
At my words, a childhood memory hits me suddenly.
It's like I'm back in my father's study, the scent of cigar smoke and whiskey surrounding me. I was seventeen, bleeding from my lip after a fight with one of our soldiers who'd disrespected me.
" You think being a monster makes you a man, Dante? " Vito had asked, not even looking up from his ledger. " Any animal can tear with its teeth. True power isn't in making people fear you, son. It's controlling them when they don't. "
I blink the memory away, focusing on Francesca's beautiful body instead.
"They wanted to look at you, but they couldn't look away from me," she says, challenging me with her gaze. "Is that what you mean?"
"Exactly." I reach out, tracing one finger along her collarbone, feeling her shiver beneath my touch. "You see… every man in that room wanted you. And yet, every one of them knew they would die if they touched what's mine."
Her brows crease. "And that made me powerful?"
"Yes. Power isn't just about who holds the gun, Francesca.
You entered a room of killers and showed no fear," I tell her, stepping closer.
"You gathered intelligence while appearing decorative.
You assessed threats, memorized details, identified weaknesses.
Don't pretend you weren't mentally mapping escape routes and potential alliances the entire time. "
Her lips part in surprise at my accuracy. "You noticed."
"I notice everything about you, Francesca." I reach out again, as if I'm incapable of not touching her. "Especially how your mind works behind those beautiful eyes. I see it already. You're always thinking, always strategizing."
She sighs a heavy breath. "What do you want from me, Dante? Beyond the obvious."
The question catches me off-guard.
What do I want? Her body, yes. Her submission, certainly.
But there's something more. Something I'm reluctant to name even to myself.
"Right now?" I pivot, avoiding the deeper question. "I want to reward you for your performance today."
Suspicion narrows her eyes. "Reward me how?"
I move past her to the bookshelf I had installed yesterday, running my fingers along leather-bound spines. "You've been exploring my library. I've noticed which volumes you linger over."
Surprise flickers across her face as I select several books—classic literature, philosophy, political theory—and place them on her bedside table.
"These are yours now," I tell her. "Along with permission to access the library whenever you wish. The cinema room as well, and the rooftop garden without escort."
She stares at the books, then at me, confusion evident. "Why?"
"Because trained animals perform better with positive reinforcement," I say cruelly, deliberately reminding her of her captivity even as I loosen her chains. "And because I want you to remember that everything in your world… whether it's punishment or reward… comes from me."
Something shifts in her expression. "And if I continue to... perform well?"
"More privileges. More freedom within these walls." I step closer, cupping her face in my hand. "Perhaps even pleasure, if you earn it."
Her pupils darken. "And if I don't?"
I smile, letting the darkness she fears show clearly on my face.
"Then you'll long for the simple humiliation of serving drinks in lingerie. I can be far more creative in my discipline, princess. Do not test me."
Her pulse quickens beneath my fingers. "Then it seems I have no choice but to obey you, Mr. Ravelli."
I look back at her—fierce, intelligent, unbowed despite everything I've subjected her to. A strange warmth spreads through my chest, an unfamiliar pride in her resilience.
"True," I concede. "But know this… Some cages have doors that eventually open, but only for those patient enough to earn the key."
Before she can respond, I place a gentle kiss on the top of her head, inhaling the jasmine scent of her hair, then step away and leave the room.
As I move through my penthouse, for the first time, I wonder who is truly being tested in this arrangement.
The captive princess? Or the monster who cannot stop thinking about her?