Chapter 2

Elena POV

Dante dressed in his bespoke charcoal suit, adjusting his silver cuffs.

He strode out of the dingy motel room without sparing me a single glance.

The heavy wooden door clicked shut.

That hollow echo sounded just like a death sentence being pronounced upon me.

I curled up on the faded upholstery of the motel sofa, hugging my knees tightly to my chest.

I wept loudly until my throat burned with agony and my eyes swelled shut.

In the suffocating silence, I painfully dissected my own fatal flaws.

Why was I always so morbidly clingy?

Why did I always need the validation of a ruthless Mafia Don just to feel secure?

A year ago, Dante grew tired of my extreme dependence and abruptly exiled me to Las Vegas to manage the Famiglia's casino ledgers.

He claimed the distance would "harden" me.

But this two-thousand-mile distance only made my sick insecurity fester even worse.

A month ago, he came to Vegas to inspect the territory.

At the time, my grandmother was gravely ill; her constant urging for me to settle down finally pushed me to the edge of the cliff.

In a moment of sheer desperation, I begged Dante for a wedding ring.

The Don ruthlessly rejected the idea, looking at me as if I had completely lost my mind.

"I never marry civilians, Elena. Stop testing my patience," he had mocked me.

That night, my world collapsed, and I officially ended our twisted relationship.

Which ultimately led to me ending up in this pathetic motel.

Three days after the motel incident, a rare torrential downpour flooded the neon-lit streets of Las Vegas.

During the morning rush hour, I was stranded on the sidewalk, desperately trying to hail a cab to the casino headquarters for an extremely important Syndicate meeting.

Suddenly, a sleek, armored Maybach pulled up to the curb.

The heavily tinted window rolled down with a soft hum.

"Get in, Elena. I will drop you off," Dante commanded from the backseat, his deep voice leaving no room for argument.

I hesitated, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

But I really couldn't afford to be late for the board meeting, so I reluctantly reached out for the door handle.

But before my fingers could touch the cold metal, a stunning woman walked out from the luxurious hotel lobby behind me.

It was Valentina, the feared Underboss of the Chicago Mafia.

She was breathtakingly beautiful, effortlessly exuding a lethal attraction, and just like Dante, she was born into that blood-soaked world.

"Dante!" she called out, her voice laced with an envy-inducing intimacy.

She walked straight past me, completely ignoring the existence of a purely insignificant civilian like me.

She leaned against the car window, flashing a highly predatory smile.

"I recognized your car. Be a gentleman and accompany me to the luxury boutiques today, will you?"

Dante looked at her, and to my absolute horror, the corners of his lips actually curled into a rare, genuine smile.

Seeing them together—two apex predators communicating through rules of power I would never understand—felt like a knife twisting viciously in my gut.

I instinctively tightened my grip on my umbrella.

"I... I just got a cab," I stammered, frantically stepping away from the car. "You two go ahead."

I didn't wait for his response. I turned around and practically charged blindly into the freezing rain.

I fought back bitter tears the entire way, agonizingly realizing just how easily I could be replaced.

An hour later, I stood in the massive glass boardroom of the Vegas casino syndicate.

My soaked clothes clung tightly to my shivering skin, but my armor was firmly back in place.

I flawlessly executed the financial presentation, projecting the staggering quarterly earnings onto the large screen.

The room was filled with extremely dangerous, ruthless underworld men.

Yet, I maintained absolute composure, my voice steady and extremely professional.

Dante sat in the seat of power at the head of the table, those deep, calculating eyes tracking my every move.

When I finally finished my presentation, he leaned back in his leather chair.

"Well done, Elena. You have made a lot of progress," he praised publicly.

If it were in the past, a single compliment from the Don could have kept me happy for weeks.

But today, I simply lowered my eyes and gave a hollow, emotionless "Thank you."

After the meeting was dismissed, I returned to my private desk and opened my laptop.

A new email notification immediately popped up on the glowing screen.

It was an email from the Famiglia's corporate human resources front company.