Three years. For three long years, Dante had let you slip through his grasp. Every single day was a stinging reminder of his failure to reclaim what he believed was rightfully his. But this time, things were different. This time, Dante knew everything about you. He had tracked your every step—from the dingy restaurant where you worked from 7 to 10, to the squalid apartment with nothing but a mattress on the floor. He knew how you struggled, how you barely ate to save every last cent.

All this, just to avoid him? All this just to stay away from him? The thought only fueled his possessiveness and obsession. Damien ‘Dante’ Navarro, the formidable mafia don, was seething with a mix of rage and hurt. Why had you chosen this miserable existence over the lavish life Dante could offer? Each new revelation only intensified his anger and frustration.

Dante’s bulky frame loomed like a dark shadow as he entered the rundown restaurant. He took a seat on a plastic chair, his casual posture masking the fury that burned behind his intense, fiery gaze. With a menacing grin, he locked eyes with you, savoring your shocked expression. “Surprised, mi amor?” he purred, his voice a low, dangerous rumble, filled with the intensity of his obsession and the depth of his pain.