Chapter 22 Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty One continued
Nina’s POV
I woke up warm.
Dante’s chest was at my back. His arm was around my waist. My leg was over Enzo’s thigh in front of me. I could feel Nikolai’s knee behind mine.
We were all in the same bed.
But nothing had happened and everything was all in my head. Damn it!
We had only kissed last night.
Just kissing. Just touching a little. Then Dante stopped it. He said he was still healing and did not want to rush. Enzo and Nikolai agreed. They pulled the covers over me and made me sleep in the middle.
That was all.
Still, my cheeks burned as I lay there. My body remembered every kiss. Every look. Every hand that had held my face like I was fragile and strong at the same time.
Dante’s fingers moved on my stomach. “You’re tense,” he muttered against my neck. His voice was rough from sleep. “You’re thinking again.”
“I’m awake,” I said, small.
Enzo’s hand slid off my thigh as he turned onto his back. “Good morning, princess,” he said, voice lazy.
Behind me, Nikolai made a soft sound. “Too early,” he grumbled. But his arm stayed over my waist, holding me against him.
I looked at Dante over my shoulder. His dark eyes were open now. He was watching my face, like he was trying to read my mind.
“How do you feel?” he asked. “Tell me the truth.”
“A bit shy,” I said. “Awkward. Happy. Scared. All together.”
Nikolai’s chest shook behind me. “Honest,” he said. “I like that.”
“You regret it?” Dante asked. His voice was calm, but his hand on my waist got a little tighter.
I thought about last night.
Them kissing me one by one. Dante holding my face in his hands and kissing me like he had been waiting for years. Enzo’s hand in my hair as he pressed his mouth to my neck. Nikolai’s forehead against mine as he whispered that I was safe.
Then Dante had pulled back.
“That’s enough for tonight,” he had said.
I was breathing hard. My lips were swollen. I had nodded. I was not ready to go further anyway. Everything already felt big and strange and new.
Now, in the morning, I knew my answer.
“I don’t regret it,” I said.
Dante let out a slow breath. Some tight line in his jaw eased. He leaned in and kissed my forehead. “Good,” he said softly.
Enzo pushed himself up on one elbow. “You’re ours now, you know,” he said. “You said it yourself. In front of your father.”
My heart jumped at that memory. The kiss in Dante’s room. The shocked faces. My own voice saying I was theirs.
“I remember,” I said.
Nikolai’s lips brushed the back of my shoulder. “Say it again,” he murmured. “Just for us.”
I swallowed. “I’m yours,” I whispered. “All of you.”
The air in the room changed. It got heavy. Hot. Dante’s eyes went dark. Enzo’s mouth curved into a slow smile. Nikolai’s fingers dug a little into my waist.
Dante slid his hand up my side. “Come here,” he said.
I turned toward him. He kissed me. Not soft this time. Deep. Hungry. His hand cupped the back of my neck.
Enzo’s fingers tipped my chin when Dante pulled back. He kissed me too, slow and sweet.
I was breathing fast now. My body was waking up in a different way.
Nikolai’s hand slid under the edge of my shirt, just at my hip. His fingers were warm. He nuzzled my neck. “We can take it slow,” he said. “We have time.”
My head was spinning. My heart was racing. All three of them were close. Kissing me. Touching me. Not too much, but enough to make my stomach twist.
“Nina,” Dante said, his voice low. “You want us to stop?”
I opened my mouth to answer.
I never got the chance.
The alarm screamed through the house.
A sharp, high sound. Loud. Angry.
All three men moved at once.
Dante ripped himself away from me. Enzo rolled off the bed and hit the floor already reaching for his gun. Nikolai was on his feet in two seconds, all sleep gone from his face.
My heart slammed against my ribs. “What is that?” I gasped.
“Security alarm,” Enzo snapped. He was already at the keypad on the wall. “Outer gate.”
Nikolai grabbed his pants and shoved his legs in. “Which side?”
“East,” Enzo said. His jaw clenched. “Near Nana’s quarters.”
Cold shot through me. “Nana?”
Dante was already half dressed. He snatched his gun from the nightstand with his good hand. The injury in his shoulder did not slow him at all.
“Stay here, Nina,” he said. His voice was sharp now. Boss voice. No softness. “Do not move.”
“No,” I said. My voice was shaking. “That’s Nana.”
“Nina.” His eyes locked on mine. Hard. Commanding. “I am not asking.”
He was out the door before I could answer. Nikolai followed him, gun tucked into his waistband.
I scrambled out of bed anyway. My legs trembled, but I forced them to move. I snatched up one of Dante’s shirts and pulled it over my head. It hung mid-thigh. I grabbed a pair of shorts from the chair and shoved them on.
Enzo turned from the keypad and saw me by the door. “He said stay,” he warned.
“Fire me,” I snapped. “I’m going.”
His mouth twitched like he wanted to smile, but his eyes were serious. “Then stay behind me.”
We ran.
The hallway was full of movement. Guards with guns rushed past in black shirts and dark pants. Boots pounded on marble floors. The alarm kept howling.
We reached the security room. Screens covered the wall. Different camera angles flashed in front of us.
Enzo pushed a man out of the chair and took his place. “Show me east gate,” he barked.
One big screen changed. I saw the outer gate, the high fence, the drive.
The gate was open.
A yellow taxi sat just inside. The driver gripped the wheel with white knuckles. His eyes were wide.
Two guards stood in front of the car. Guns in their hands. But they were not firing. They looked confused. Like they did not know what to do.
Then I saw her.
Nana.
She stood between the guards. No. She leaned on one of them like she could not hold herself up. Her clothes were dirty. Her gray hair was loose and messy. There was blood on her forehead. A bruise dark on her cheek.
My knees went weak. “Nana,” I whispered.
Beside her was another woman. Slim. Long dark hair. Clean blouse. Jeans.
She turned her head, and my stomach dropped.
Isabela.
My mouth went dry.
She did not look hurt. She did not even look tired. Her hair was a little messy, but her face was smooth. No cuts. No bruises.
Still, her eyes were wet. Her mouth trembled. She looked like a saint in a cheap movie.
On the screen, Dante and Nikolai came into frame from the right, guns out but pointed down. They walked straight up to them.
I hit the button for sound.
“… I swear, I didn’t know where else to go,” Isabela was saying. Her voice shook. “I was on my way to work. I saw two men pushing her into a van near the bus stop. She was crying. I just… I just ran. I pulled her away and we ran. They chased us.”
Nana’s hand clutched Isabela’s arm. “She helped me,” Nana whispered on the screen. “They grabbed me from behind. They had a cloth. I could not breathe. She screamed and pulled me. We ran. We almost died, Boss.”
Boss. Boss.
She looked at Dante like he was her only safety.
Dante’s face was flat. No emotion. “Why here?” he asked Isabela.
“I know this is your house,” she said fast. “From before. I know you have guards. I told the taxi driver your address. I thought… I thought you would keep her safe. Even if you hate me.”
Her voice cracked on the last line.
She was good. Too good.
The pain on her face looked real. The fear in her eyes looked real.
If I had not heard her voice on that call. If I had not seen her picture in that envelope from my father. I might have believed it.
I knew better.
On the screen, Dante looked at Nana next. “Can you walk?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, Boss. My legs… they shake, but yes.”
“Bring them inside,” Dante told the guards. “Slow. Watch the road. If anyone followed, I want to know.”
They started walking up the drive.
A few minutes later, the front doors of the house opened.
They came in.
Seeing Nana in person hit me harder than the screen.
She looked small. Older. Her lip was split. Her hands shook. There was dust on her clothes.
I ran to her. “Nana!”
She dropped the guard’s arm and reached for me. I wrapped my arms around her carefully.
“Mija,” she sobbed into my hair. “Nina. Ay, gracias a Dios. I thought I’d never see you again.”
Tears filled my eyes and spilled over. “You’re here,” I said. “You’re safe.”
Dante stood a few feet away, looking at them. His gun was now at his side, but his eyes were sharp. Enzo and Nikolai flanked him.
Isabela stood back a little, just inside the door. Her hands were wrapped around herself. She shook as if cold.
“I know you don’t want to see me,” she said quietly. “But I couldn’t leave her there.”
My head snapped toward her.
She looked at me. Her eyes were wide. Shiny with tears. Her lower lip trembled.
“I was wrong before,” she said. “About everything. I was stupid. I thought I had time. When I saw them drag her… it was like a wake-up call. I just ran. I didn’t even think.”
Nana nodded weakly. “She fought them,” she said. “She pulled me. They shouted. One hit her here.” She touched her own head. “I heard gun. Or maybe firework. I don’t know. We ran.”
There was no bruise on Isabela’s head. No blood in her hair. Nothing.
My fingers curled into Nana’s shirt.
Dante’s gaze did not leave Isabela’s face. “You’re lucky they did not shoot you,” he said in a flat tone.
“Maybe,” she said softly. “Maybe I’m not worth a bullet.”
It sounded humble. Sad.
My skin crawled.
Dante’s jaw flexed. “We’ll check the cameras near the bus stop. We’ll verify your story.”
“Of course,” she said. “Do whatever you need.”
Nana swayed a little. Dante stepped closer, his voice soft for her. “We’re going to the infirmary. We will clean you. Check your ribs. Make sure nothing is broken.”
She nodded quickly. “Yes, Boss.”
He looked at me. “Come with us.”
I nodded.
Then he turned to Enzo. “Put her in a room,” he said. His voice went cold again. “Guest house side. Not near Nina. Two guards at the door.”
Isabela’s eyes widened. “You’re… letting me stay?”
“For now,” Dante said. “Until I find out exactly what happened.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “You don’t know what this means.”
Oh, I thought. I think he does.
Enzo stepped toward her. “I’ll show you the room,” he said. His tone was polite, but there was steel under it.
Isabela nodded and turned to follow him.
As she turned, her eyes met mine.
For one second, the fear on her face vanished.
Her mouth curved into a small, cold smile. Not warm. Not grateful.
A slow, sharp smirk.
Her eyes narrowed, hard and flat, before she looked away.
Then she lifted her head, let her shoulders droop again, and went back to looking weak and scared as she followed Enzo toward the guest house.
Nina’s POV
After Isabela followed Enzo toward the guest house, the air felt too heavy to breathe.
My mind kept going back to the bedroom.
To the way Dante had pulled me close earlier.
To the way his mouth had claimed mine.
To the way my body had leaned in, ready to forget everything else and just fall.
We had kissed. Deep and hot and dizzying. His hand had slid into my hair, mine had grabbed his shirt. I had felt that same wild pull that always came when he was near.
But then he’d stopped.
He’d pulled back, his breathing rough, his eyes dark.
“Not tonight,” he’d said. “You’re tired. You’re shaken. You almost died in a warehouse three hours ago. I won’t touch you like that when your head isn’t clear.”
Nothing had happened after that.
No sex.
Just his hand cupping my cheek. His forehead leaning against mine. A soft kiss on my lips, then on my brow.
“Sleep,” he’d whispered. “You’re safe. That’s enough for tonight.”
At the time, it had felt sweet. Kind. Like he was holding back for me.
Now, standing in the hallway after the alarm, after seeing Isabela again, I wasn’t so sure.
I tried to follow Nana when Dante said he needed to question her. I tried to stay by her side. By his side.
But he’d blocked me.
“I need to be alone with her,” he’d said.
“Why?” I’d asked. “She’s scared. I should be there.”
“She won’t talk if you’re in the room,” he’d replied, voice flat. Boss voice. “She’ll try to protect you. I need the full truth, Nina. No filters. Go to your room. I’ll send her to you when we’re done.”
Nana had touched my arm. “It’s okay, mija. I’ll come as soon as we finish.”
So I had gone.
Back to my room. Back to the bed that still smelled like Dante’s cologne. Back to the space where my lips still tingled from his kiss.
I tried to sit.
I couldn’t.
I paced instead. Back and forth across the room. My stitches ached, but I kept moving.
Something felt wrong.
Too many things had happened at once. Isabela showing up. Nana bloody and shaking. Dante sending me away.
Fifteen minutes passed.
No Nana.
No knock.
No message.
My chest grew tighter with each minute.
What are they talking about?
Why is it taking so long?
Why do I feel like my skin is crawling?
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.
I opened my door and stepped into the hall.
The house was quiet. Too quiet.
No low voices from Dante’s wing. No sound of Nana’s soft laugh.
I walked toward his room.
Each step felt heavy. Loud. Wrong.
A small light showed under his door. Not bright. Just a warm glow from a lamp.
I stopped in front of it.
My hand lifted on its own. I knocked softly.
“Dante? It’s me. Is Nana still with you?”
Silence.
My heart stuttered.
I knocked again. Harder this time. “Nana? Are you okay? It’s Nina.”
Still nothing.
Cold slid down my spine.
I wrapped my fingers around the handle and turned it slowly.
The door wasn’t locked.
It opened with a quiet click.
I stepped inside.
At first, my brain refused to understand what I was seeing.
The room smelled like his cologne and something heavier. The bed was untouched, covers smooth and neat. No sign of Nana’s shawl or the little cup of tea she always carried.
Instead, my eyes went straight to the chair by the window.
Dante was there.
His shirt was open, hanging loose off his shoulders. His head was tipped back against the chair, jaw tight, throat working, eyes half closed like he was fighting something inside himself.
And in front of him, on her knees between his spread legs, was Isabela.
Her dress rode up her thighs. Her back was straight, her head low in his lap, too close, moving just enough for my stomach to turn.
One of his hands gripped the arm of the chair. The other was tangled in her dark hair, fingers buried deep, holding her exactly where he wanted her.
No one said a word.
No one had to. My body understood before my brain did.
The floor seemed to tilt under my feet.
He told me he needed to talk to Nana alone.
He told me to go and rest.
He told me nothing would happen tonight because I was tired. Because I’d been through too much. Because he “respected” me.
And now here he was.
Open shirt. Head tipped back. Hand in her hair.
Letting another woman kneel between his legs like she belonged there.
I didn’t realize I’d let go of the door until it creaked softly as it shifted.
That tiny sound sliced through the heavy air.
Dante’s eyes flew open.
He saw me.
For one long heartbeat, everything in his face changed. Shock. Guilt. Anger. Something sharp and ugly that flashed through his eyes before he could hide it.
His hand twitched in Isabela’s hair.
She froze.
Then, slowly, she turned her head just enough to see me in the doorway.
Her lips were already wet and swollen. Her mascara was perfect. Not a single tear on her face. No smear. No sign of fear now.
Only satisfaction.
The corner of her mouth curled.
Not a full smile. Just a tiny, cutting twist. A private little curve meant only for me.
Cold. Knowing. Cruel.
She held my gaze while she stayed on her knees between his legs, while his open shirt framed his chest, while his fingers still rested in her hair like they belonged there.
That small, slow smirk was all I could see.
All I could feel.
Sharp as a knife.