Dante's Ultimatum

Chapter 40: Dante's Ultimatum

The room was thick with silence. The only sound was the faint ticking of the antique clock mounted on the wall. The air between them crackled with unspoken words, raw emotions threatening to consume them both.

Dante stood before her, his piercing gaze holding hers captive. He was no longer just the ruthless mafia boss who had stolen her freedom—he was a man who had laid everything at her feet, his power, his devotion, and his unrelenting claim on her.

But his offer wasn't without a price.

"Decide, Isla." His voice was dark, edged with quiet dominance. "Stand beside me… or walk away from my life forever."

Isla's heart pounded violently in her chest. She had fought for so long, lived for revenge, carried hatred so deep it had defined her every move. And yet, somewhere in the chaos, she had let Dante DeLuca slip into the cracks of her carefully built armor.

She had betrayed him.

He had punished her.

She had tried to escape him.

He had chased her.

But in the end, it was the truth that had shattered them both.

Isla swallowed hard. "You don't get to put this on me, Dante. You don't get to act like I'm the only one who has to make a choice."

His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "I already made my choice, gattina." His voice was softer now, but no less commanding. "I killed my own father for you. I burned my past for you. I destroyed everything that stood between us." His eyes darkened. "And now, I'm telling you to choose me."

Isla exhaled sharply, a storm of emotions swirling inside her.

Her entire life had been built around one purpose—to avenge her father, to make Antonio DeLuca pay for what he had done. And she had succeeded. But now, she stood at the edge of an unknown future, staring into the abyss of a life she never planned for.

A life where Dante wasn't her enemy.

A life where he was something else entirely.

She turned away from him, pacing toward the window. The city stretched out before her, glittering in the night, oblivious to the war raging inside her.

"I don't even know who I am without my revenge," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "For years, I told myself that once Antonio was dead, I'd be free. But now… now, I don't know what comes next."

Dante moved behind her, his presence a force she could feel even without touching him. "You're mine, gattina," he murmured. "That's what comes next."

She spun around, her eyes flashing with defiance. "You don't get to decide that for me."

His lips curled into a slow, dangerous smirk. "Don't I?"

Damn him.

Damn the way he looked at her like he already knew the answer.

Damn the way her body betrayed her, burning for him even when she wanted to push him away.

She hated him.

She wanted him.

She needed him.

Dante took a slow step forward. "You can leave, Isla," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Walk away. I won't stop you."

Her breath hitched. "You're lying."

His smirk faded. "No. I'm not."

Isla studied him, searching for deception, but all she found was brutal honesty.

Dante never lied.

Not to her.

Not about this.

"If you walk away," he continued, "I won't chase you. I won't force you back. But I'll erase every trace of you from my world. No one will come after you. No one will ever find you. It will be like you never existed."

A chill ran down her spine.

He meant it.

It wasn't a threat—it was a promise.

If she walked away now, she would truly be free. Free of the mafia, free of bloodshed, free of Dante.

So why did the thought of leaving him feel like a death sentence?

Isla lifted her chin, forcing herself to remain steady. "And if I stay?"

Dante's eyes gleamed with something dark and possessive. "Then you belong to me. Not as a prisoner. Not as a pawn in a revenge game. But as my queen."

She sucked in a sharp breath.

His queen.

She had spent so long fighting against him, trying to convince herself that they were on opposite sides. But the truth was, Dante had become a part of her in ways she couldn't explain.

He had killed for her.

He had protected her.

He had broken her… and put her back together in the same breath.

And now, he was offering her a place beside him.

"Say it, gattina," Dante murmured, stepping close enough that she could feel his warmth. "Tell me what you want."

Her heart thundered. "I want…"

The words caught in her throat.

Freedom. Power. Love.

Could she have it all?

Could she have him?

Isla clenched her fists, memories flashing through her mind. The pain. The loss. The revenge.

And Dante. Always Dante.

She looked up at him, and for the first time, she let go of the past.

"I want you," she whispered.

Dante's eyes darkened with triumph, and before she could take another breath, his lips crashed against hers.

It wasn't a gentle kiss.

It was raw. Desperate. Consuming.

His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, and she melted into him, letting the weight of her choice settle over her.

There was no turning back now.

Dante had given her a choice.

And she had chosen him.

Forever.

---

End of Chapter 40