Chapter39: Dante

Dante's POV

My stepsister is too naive. In this club, no one dares to touch my woman. She has no idea how things work here, how respect and fear maintain the hierarchy. She doesn't understand that in this world, I'm king.

For instance, just now, there was a guy—Miguel, one of our newer prospects—staring at my stepsister as we walked back toward the clubhouse. His eyes traveled down her body, lingering on places they had no business looking. With just a glance from me, he immediately lowered his head, suddenly finding the ground fascinating. Timid men like that don't deserve my stepsister's love. They'd never be able to handle a woman like Val.

"What are you smiling about?" Val asked, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

I hadn't realized I was smiling. "Just thinking about how little you understand about this place."

"Enlighten me then," she challenged, crossing her arms in a way that pushed her breasts up, making my mouth go dry.

I moved closer, crowding her space deliberately. "It's best to make other men think you're with me," I explained, keeping my voice casual despite the possessiveness surging through me. "That way, they'll know you're not here to sleep with members of the motorcycle club."

Val looked up at me, her hazel eyes flashing with defiance. "You are so arrogant," she said, her gaze darting pointedly to the men around us. "I believe there are many men here sexier than you, and I could easily have a one-night stand. And I think it would be a fantastic experience."

The thought of her with any of my brothers made something dark and violent rise within me. I could picture it too easily—Val's soft skin under another man's hands, her lips parted in pleasure that I wasn't giving her.

"Oh really?" I kept my voice steady, though my jaw clenched tight enough to hurt.

She nodded, a small smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "May the best man win," she declared, holding my gaze with a boldness that was both infuriating and intoxicating.

I saw the spark in her eyes and knew exactly what she was doing. She wanted to see my reaction. This wasn't just idle talk—she was deliberately provoking me. Testing my limits.

"You're like an angry little cat right now," I said, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger against her skin longer than necessary. "Tell me, little cat, who has upset you?"

Something flickered across her face—surprise, maybe, that I'd seen through her game so easily. But she recovered quickly, lifting her chin.

"No one has made me angry," she replied, her voice steady but her pulse visibly racing in her throat. "I just realize I have many choices, like those equally sexy men."

She nodded toward a group of my brothers standing by their bikes. One of them—Jake, a long-time member with tattoos covering every visible inch of skin—caught her looking and grinned. I felt my hands curl into fists at my sides.

"Val," I said, my voice dropping to a warning growl. "You don't want to go down this road."

"Don't I?" She raised an eyebrow, challenge written across her delicate features. "Maybe I'm tired of being told what I want and don't want."

Damn it, I have no idea what's gotten into her. Yesterday she was all wide-eyed innocence, clearly affected by my presence but trying to hide it. Today she was deliberately pushing my buttons, taunting me with the prospect of her being with other men.

Something must have happened. Something that turned my cautious, calculating stepsister into this reckless provocateur who seemed determined to drive me over the edge.

"What's this really about, Val?" I asked, searching her face for clues. "This isn't like you."

For a split second, her mask slipped, and I caught a glimpse of something vulnerable beneath the bravado. Hurt? Jealousy? But before I could identify it, her walls were back up, higher than before.

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do," she said, stepping away from me. "Maybe no one does."

With that, she turned and walked back into the clubhouse, leaving me staring after her, equal parts confused and aroused. The sway of her hips as she walked away seemed deliberate, calculated to keep my attention. It was working.

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration mounting. Val was playing a dangerous game, one she didn't fully understand. If she pushed me too far, I wasn't sure I could maintain the careful distance I'd been forcing myself to keep.

And if she really did try to hook up with one of my brothers? I honestly didn't know what I'd do. The mere thought of it made something primal and possessive roar to life inside me.

She wanted to see who would win? Fine. Challenge accepted.

One thing was certain—no other man would touch her. Val was mine, whether she was ready to admit it or not. And I was more than willing to prove it to her.