Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Her voice served as a lifeline, soft and steady. “Dante?”
I met her gaze, and in it, I found my courage. “In a world that has known me only as a monster. . .”
She bit her bottom lip.
“This past year. . .you have reminded me of what it means to be human.”
“You’re not a monster, Dante.” She raised her hands to my head and ran them through my long black hair. “You’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”
“No, Zuri.” With my free hand, I took hers and kissed those delicate fingers, marveling at how my big, rough hand engulfed hers. “I am a beast of a man, scarred and unworthy—”
“Dante—”
“But I’m going to capture you anyway.” With the other hand, I flipped open the box.
The diamond ring caught the light, a glimmer of the new life that lay ahead.
With no days of taking, but many of giving.
Not of dominating, but of cherishing.
Not of murder, but of life.
Kids even.
Little ones mixed from her and me.
“You’ve tamed the beast, Zuri. With you, I am no longer the sum of my sins, but the man I’ve always longed to be.” I shivered. “Will you. . .”
I cleared my throat. “Will you marry me?”
In her eyes, I saw my reflection, not as the monster, but as the man I was with her.
Yet, shock also covered her face.
Slowly, she sat up. The sheets fell away, exposing more of her full breasts to me. “O-oh my God. Dante, are you really asking me?”
“I know I’m not exactly prince charming, but I promise to love you with everything I have.” I rose. “To protect you, to respect you, to be there for you every step of the way.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Yes.”
I widened my eyes. “Yes?”
“Yes, I’ll marry you, Dante.”
Relief and joy flooded through me.
I slid the ring onto her finger, sealing our fate together.
Zuri threw her arms around my neck, pulling me into a searing kiss.
Our bodies melted together, and I savored the taste of her as my own little slice of heaven.
She moaned into my mouth, her little tongue teasing mine, driving me wild.
Then, she ran her hands down my back, and her fingers traced the scars.
Slowly, I leaned back, ending our kiss. “I love you, Zuri.”
“I love you too, baby,” She whispered back, but then her face shifted into a worried expression. Those perfectly arched brows furrowed, and she pulled away slightly. “And. . .what about your place with Crimson Mob?”
I gritted my teeth.
The question hung in the air, suspended like a guillotine’s blade over the neck of my future. It wasn’t just about my allegiance to the mob or to her—it was about my own identity, about whether I could truly leave behind the man I had become for the man I wished to be.
My jaw tensed.
Francesca “Red Widow” Mancini—that was the name known in the underworld, the name that had inspired countless whispers and fearful glances.
The Red Widow and I, we’d built the Crimson Mob from the ground up, from reckless childhood dreams to the iron-fisted rulers of Shadow Heights’ criminal mosaic.
Our hands—both stained with the same blood and dirt—had seized control of the city’s darkest empire.
And our reign was marked by ruthlessness and power.
I was the Red Widow’s top enforcer.
The executor of her will.
The dispenser of her most twisted justice.
However, with every task completed and every threat neutralized, my legend had grown along with the weight of my sins.
We had started as kids with nothing but fierce loyalty to each other and a thirst for more than what life had dealt us. But as the money and power grew, the bond we shared morphed into something far more complex.
Zuri spoke, “When we get married. . .are you going to continue to be with Crimson Mob?”
I didn’t know.
Could I live in the shadows, but still bask in the light?
“I’ve never judged how you make money, and I never will.” Her gaze didn’t waver, and those liquid brown eyes mirrored my inner turmoil. “I just don’t trust Francesca.”
Those words settled in my gut.
“I know you trust her, Dante, but. . .those few times we’ve been around her, I’m always watching the way she looks at you, and. . .there’s this dangerous envy flowing through her eyes. It’s hard to describe.”
I didn’t need to ask what Zuri meant.
I had seen it too, lurking in the shadows of Francesca’s gaze, a glint of something that transcended rivalry and ventured into darker territories. Jealousy, perhaps, or the fear of being destroyed by the very person she had brought up alongside her.
I’d noticed the subtle shifts, the lingering looks, the moments of silence that spoke louder than any words could. There was an unspoken battle being waged, one of power and control, and I stood at the center of it, a pawn that had become more powerful than the queen.