Page 77 of Savage Ambition

“The Grecian suite.” She left with a respectful bow of her head.

When Dante stood to leave, I grabbed his wrist, my fingers tightening around it. “It is my concern. Santino is dangerous, even by Mafia standards. Hurting people isn’t enough for him. He breaks them down until there’s nothing left.”

Even now, years later, certain sounds or scents could catapult me back to that private room in his villa, where I learned the real meaning of power.

“The Accardi prince himself,” he’d whispered against my skin on the third night, when I was bound and bleeding. “Did you think I didn’t know exactly who you were the moment I stepped into your club? I’ll teach you to try and use me.”

My father wouldn’t send men to retrieve me after what Santino had done. The shame of an Accardi heir being broken was too great. So I disappeared, abandoning my birthright and the blood money that came with it. The price on my head from both families meant I could never return to Italy. Giovanni Accardi was dead; only Renato Mancini remained in the shadows.

“I’m more than capable of handling Santino, thanks.” The flatness in Dante’s voice chilled me. “Let me go.”

My grip tightened when he tried to pull away. “I’m not afraid to take what I want, Dante, and I fucking want you.” And I want to protect you from monsters like Santino, I added mentally, knowing they were words too dangerous to speak aloud.

It was even more important to me when in my place stood my younger brother, Luciano. I refused to lose Dante next.

“It’s Dragon. I won’t tell you again,” he snapped, yanking his wrist free. “Remember your place.”

Rather than showing my concern, which would only push him further away, I gave him my most seductive smile. “Have fun fantasizing about being with me while you’re enduring your next client.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re so full of yourself.”

I parted my thighs, running my hand up the inside of one leg, drawing his attention to my obvious arousal. “I’d rather be full of you.”

“Then I’d recommend you find more clients who will pay for you to have the privilege.” He straightened his suit jacket, his armor going back into place piece by piece.

“I guess that’s what I’ll think about to get myself off while you’re busy.” I ran my tongue across my lower lip, giving him something pleasant to remember while he faced the devil. “How good you taste, how perfectly you fit around me, the little sounds you make when you’re close to coming.”

“Do whatever you want,” he said as he walked away, his shoulders squared, chin up, like a soldier marching to battle.

“I always do.” That was why I would have him, no matter what. But for now, I had no choice but to watch him attend to his dangerous client, whose unspeakable cruelties I had experienced myself.

If Dante had been Santino’s plaything for any length of time, the damage would be far deeper than any visible marks. Santino took pleasure in pain, but his true talent lay in discovering the unique breaking point of every person he targeted.

Even more disturbing was the realization that Salvatore was deliberately placing Dante in Santino’s path as bait.

I understood with sickening clarity what Dante endured during those sessions. Santino would use him not only as a sexual outlet but as a canvas for his legendary hatred of the Gennaro family.

The psychological devastation from such treatment would last far longer than the physical violation. Dante’s body might belong to Salvatore, but Santino would ensure his nightmares belonged to the Sanguinetti heir.

No one ever broke free from Santino’s orbit. My flight from Rome had only delayed what would come. If he discovered me close to someone he considered his property, the consequences would be deadly. He would ensure I watched every moment as he systematically destroyed the man I cared about.

What began as a seduction had evolved into a death sentence for us both. The target I’d inadvertently painted on Dante’s back was a consequence I hadn’t calculated.

Despite knowing the stakes, I couldn’t walk away when Dante deserved freedom. If claiming him meant ending Santino Sanguinetti’s reign and bringing down the Gennaro Mafia, then I’d do it without hesitation.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

SHAW

“You’re avoiding me.” Dante shut the door to the empty student union club room with a soft click.

I tensed on the couch where I’d been hiding, cutting one of the classes we shared.

He crossed the room to stand before me. “You’re seriously giving me the silent treatment? Real fucking mature, Shaw.”

“No, I was thinking.” I looked up at him. “How did you know where to find me?”

“Trent told me. Answer my question.”