25. Renato #2
“I’m also good for more than sex, you know,” I said, letting my playful tone soften to something more serious. “I can be whatever you need me to be, whether it’s your ally, your weapon, or your shield.”
“My shield?”
“Someone has to protect you while you’re busy protecting everyone else.” I traced the line of his jaw. “You’ve been fighting this war alone for too long, Dante. Let me fight beside you like I swore to do.”
His throat worked as he swallowed. “I don’t know how to do that.”
“Yes, you do.” I took his hand, placing it over my heart. “Not everyone is like Salvatore. Some people can be trusted with your secrets, your plans, your heart.”
He stiffened beneath me. “You talk too much.”
“Only because you don’t talk enough.” I shifted in his lap. “But there are other ways to communicate.”
His hands slid to my ass, gripping possessively. “Is that what we’re doing? Communicating?”
“Among other things.” I rolled my hips, drawing a sharp inhale from him. “I’m very versatile in many communication methods.”
“Is that why you never shut the fuck up?” He guided my movements against him.
“Make me,” I taunted.
His control gave way to need. He pulled me into a kiss that tasted of frustration and fear, his fingers tangling in my hair. His tongue pushed past my lips, seeking dominance to mask the vulnerability he’d shown me.
I yielded, absorbing the onslaught while holding him firmly in place. Slowly, his desperate grip softened. His hand slid beneath my sweater to map my lower back, grounding himself in the connection he claimed to despise.
When we broke apart, his pupils were blown wide.
I let him think he had distracted me, even as I vowed to continue breaking down his defenses, one kiss at a time.
“What’s your price?” Dante asked, his voice rough.
I traced his lower lip with my thumb. “Unlike Salvatore, I don’t operate on conditions and threats, Dante.”
“Everyone wants something.”
“I want you, but not at the expense of your freedom or your trust. Those you’ll have to give willingly, or not at all.”
His expression shifted. “I don’t understand you.”
“You will,” I promised. “With time.”
The car slowed as we approached Gennaro Corporation, the imposing glass monolith looming ahead. Dante’s face shuttered, the mask of Dragon sliding into place.
I climbed off his lap, straightening my clothes and running a hand through my hair. “Don’t worry. By the time we reach Salvatore, no one will know what we’ve been doing.”
“He always knows,” Dante said flatly. “He has eyes and ears everywhere.”
“Not in this car,” I reminded him. “Massimo made sure of it.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed. “You seem very confident about that.”
I adjusted his collar. “That’s because I’ve learned to be thorough with matters of life and death.”
“And this is a matter of life and death for you?”
“Everything involving Salvatore is.” I knew that danger all too well from my days in Italy. “I’ve seen men like him before. They view the world as their personal chessboard, with everyone else as pieces to be sacrificed at will.”
“And what piece are you?” he asked.
My smile held none of my usual warmth. “The one he doesn’t see coming until it’s too late.”
Something shifted in Dante’s expression that wasn’t quite trust but perhaps the beginning of it. Maybe a willingness to consider that I might be more than I appeared.
“We’ll see,” he said, neither accepting nor rejecting my offer of alliance.
It was enough for now.
As the car pulled to a stop, I leaned in for one last kiss. It wasn’t the passionate claiming of before but something softer, promising better things to come. “Remember, you’re not alone in this anymore. Whatever game Salvatore is playing, we’ll face it together.”
“I work alone,” he insisted, but the conviction in his voice had weakened.
“Not anymore.” I straightened his shirt. “Whether you like it or not, you have me now, tesoro.”
“But I never asked for you.”
“All the best gifts are the ones we don’t know to ask for.” I winked as I moved toward the door. “Trust me, Dante. You’ll thank me later.”
The car slowed to a stop at the service entrance of Gennaro Corporation, nestled between delivery bays where shadows pooled deeper than the security lights could reach. Massimo killed the engine and stepped out, conducting a casual sweep of the area before opening our door.
“You’ve got three minutes,” he murmured, nodding toward the entrance. “The security system is on a maintenance schedule where it goes down as it resets.”
Dante tensed beside me after we stepped out of the car, his hand nervously smoothing down his rumpled shirt. “Massimo, about what happened in the car.”
Massimo shook his head. “I didn’t see or hear anything.”
Dante nodded. “I appreciate your discretion, Massimo. And your support.”
“There are those of us who remember what the Gennaro name meant before him. I know who deserves my loyalty.” His eyes locked with Dante’s. “The true Gennaro blood worth protecting runs in your veins, not his. That matters to more of us than you know.”
I remained silent, understanding the weight of what was unfolding. It wasn’t an enforcer offering protection but a declaration that challenged the very foundation of Salvatore’s power.
“Why tell me this now?” Dante asked, his voice steady despite the danger such knowledge represented.
“Because when the time comes to claim your birthright position as the true Don of the Gennaro family, you’ll have support within these walls.
Men who know where true family loyalty belongs.
” Massimo’s voice dropped lower. “And if blood needs to be spilled to restore the proper order, there are hands willing to do it.”
It was rare to see Dante stunned into silence.
I couldn’t resist breaking the tension. “Massimo, with that loyalty and those muscles, you’re wasted on driving cars. Perhaps you’d like to explore other positions sometime?”
Dante’s hand clamped around my bicep with surprising strength. “Ignore him, Massimo. He flirts with anything that breathes.”
Massimo cracked into a rare smile. “Your Italian is a valuable ally.” His gaze shifted to me with knowing assessment. “Take care with what you’re playing at. The stakes are higher than you know.”
“I never play games I don’t intend to win,” I replied, all traces of flirtation vanishing from my voice.
Dante pulled me toward the entrance, his fingers digging into my arm. “Was that necessary?” he hissed, but the emotion in his voice wasn’t anger.
“Absolutely. Now he likes me.” I kept my voice light while scanning for cameras as we approached the building. “And men who like me tend to help me when I need it most.”
As we walked into Gennaro Corporation, I allowed my mask to slide into place. Lorenzo, the seductive sex worker, replaced Renato, the devoted ally. But beneath the performance, my resolve remained unshaken.
I had made a blood oath to Dante Gennaro, and in the world I came from, such vows were binding until death.
Salvatore had no clue what was coming for him. The man who thought he owned Dante’s soul had gained a new enemy, one who knew how to dismantle empires from the inside out.
One who would burn the world to ashes to free the man walking beside me.
Iwaited for my next client in the empty employee lounge, pouring a glass of whiskey.
Every movement reminded me of Dante. The sticky reminder of our urgency still clung to my skin, a filthy, quiet rebellion against the sterile performance expected of us.
In a place where our bodies were commodities, those moments in the limousine belonged entirely to us.
Ishi arrived, her customary black outfit impeccable as always. “Thank you for your help today, Lorenzo.”
I raised my glass. “You’re very welcome. I’m always happy to help with Dragon.”
She studied me with eyes that never missed a single detail. “I appreciate your dedication.” Her emphasis on “dedication” carried layers of meaning in a place where walls had ears and cameras never blinked.
“Please come find me anytime you need someone to take care of another errand like that for you.” I rubbed the rim of my glass with one finger, a gesture calculated to appear casual. “How do you think Dragon feels about me?”
She hid her smile behind her hand in a gesture that effectively blocked the cameras. “I suspect he finds you to be very vexing.”
I chuckled at her assessment. “You’re not wrong.”
“But he needs a challenge to entertain himself, so take that for what you will.”
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m skilled at challenging his patience.”
“Indeed.”
“It’s nice to know where I stand, thanks.” I took another sip of whiskey, letting the glass hide my expression from the cameras.
Her smile was as charming as it was enigmatic. “It’s a very rare position, so be proud.” She tilted her head in acknowledgment. “On that note, I will leave you to rest. I’m sure you need it after such a taxing errand.”
The emphasis on “taxing” made heat rise to my cheeks despite my usual composure. She missed nothing.
“Until next time,” I replied, the formal phrase carrying the weight of conspiracy between us.
As she slipped out the door, I smiled into my whiskey. Perhaps Dante wasn’t as alone as he believed.