Free Web NovelChapter 48: Right now!
Isadora couldn’t even bring herself to look surprised as she simply nodded her head and headed straight to his study, where she already knew she would find him waiting. The corridors of the mansion were quiet, the kind of silence that made her footsteps echo faintly against the polished marble floor. Her heart thudded lightly, not from fear but from a kind of heavy anticipation she couldn’t shake off, each step bringing her closer to whatever he had decided for her next.
Sitting behind a familiar desk this time around, unlike his usual place by the window where he would often sit and watch the city lights, Dante looked calm—composed in that effortless, cold way that made him seem untouchable. The large desk stretched between them like a wall, the soft golden glow of the lamps catching on the sharp edges of his features.
Isadora moved closer, her hands clasped together, not surprised when she heard him speak even before she got close enough to him. His voice, low and even, carried easily across the room.
"Your sister is better?" he asked, to which Isadora simply nodded, her gaze flickering briefly toward him. But her eyes widened the very next second as she heard him say what came next.
"I’m bringing the wedding forward. It’s in three days. Your wedding dress is ready, so there’s nothing to worry about."
Isadora heard Dante say the words with his usual calmness, but her mind stalled on the phrase in three days. Her lips parted slightly, though no sound came out. She wondered why he thought the dress could ever be something she worried about. There were other things—so many heavier things—she could have brought up as reasons for delay, her sister’s fragile health being the foremost. But she knew better.
She was there to do a job and nothing more. Pretending that she had control over anything was foolish; it would only put her family in more danger. Her silence was her only defense, and she had learned to use it well.
Stiffly, Isadora nodded her head slowly even as she stood there staring at him, her throat tightening slightly while she waited to be dismissed. She had learned that Dante rarely invited questions, and even when he did, the answers seldom changed his mind.
’With the money I would be paid, I would have more than enough to move my family to a completely different country,’ she thought to herself, that fragile hope the only thing keeping her grounded as she waited to hear the rest of what Dante had to say.
His expression wasn’t completely blank tonight. There was something in his eyes—something she couldn’t name or understand—that made it difficult to look directly at him for long. It wasn’t warmth, not really, but a quiet intensity that made her heart skip. He continued to fix his gaze on her until, finally, he opened his mouth to speak again.
"Can you come closer?" he asked, his tone calm like always, polite in a way he spoke. It carried no command and yet left no room for refusal. That hint of politeness didn’t stir her emotions; it was simply the usual way he spoke. What made her brows furrow, though, was what came next.
"Past the table..." he added, his voice softer but clearer, making it obvious that he wanted her to stand right where he sat.
Isadora simply nodded again, swallowing hard as she buried the growing heaviness in her chest, the sound of her heart now beating faster than before. She moved closer, one step after another, until she stood right beside him, close enough to feel the faint warmth radiating from his body. The scent of him—clean, crisp, and faintly woody—filled her head, and she had to resist the urge to step back.
She was taken aback when he suddenly rose to his feet. Much taller than her, enough to tower over her with ease, Dante leaned in slightly, his shadow falling over her face as her lashes trembled.
Her slightly widened eyes fixed on him as she stood still, not daring to move when his hand brushed the edge of the desk. He leaned even closer, his breath faint against her skin. The air between them thickened, her pulse quickening with each second that passed.
Then she heard him speak, his voice low but steady.
"You apologized," he said.
The words made sweat break out along her back as she instantly realized what he was referring to. Her mind replayed their last exchange, the quiet tension, the way she had begged to keep things professional.
"Did you mean it, or would you rather we—" freeweɓnøvel.com
But Isadora didn’t let him finish. She instantly nodded her head, the motion quick, almost desperate. The thought of going to a doctor for this, of having her body examined, was far more humiliating to her. She wanted this done, in her control, even if control was an illusion.
"We can do it now," she said directly, her voice low but clear. The words sounded braver than she felt. Deep down, she knew the sooner she got pregnant, the better. Once that happened, Dante would have no reason to threaten her family—he would have to protect them, if only for the child she carried.
Her lashes trembled as she spoke, her stomach twisting as she felt his hand slowly reach up to grab her jaw, his fingers cool against her skin. He lifted it gently but firmly, forcing her to meet his gaze. The air caught in her throat, her chest rising and falling unevenly as she stared back at him.
"Are you sure you can—" he began, but again she didn’t let him finish.
"I can show you," she said, interrupting him in the same breath.
Dante’s lips curved faintly, a soft chuckle escaping him as he leaned away, turning his body slightly to sit on the edge of the table right beside her. The faintest trace of amusement lingered in his silver eyes as he leaned in close enough for their shoulders to touch.
"Show me then," he whispered, his tone laced with quiet challenge.
Isadora felt her head spin, the pressure in her chest growing heavier as heat flushed through her veins. Her palms were clammy, and she could feel her heartbeat pounding hard against her ribs, but she still managed to nod.
Slowly, she pushed away from the table she had been leaning against, her movements deliberate, almost mechanical, as she turned around to focus fully on Dante. He was still watching her, his gaze unyielding, a flicker of curiosity glinting in his expression. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com
His white hair framed his face perfectly, soft against the dim lamplight, and his eyes—cold yet striking—followed her every motion. Isadora did her best not to flinch under the weight of it, knowing that any hesitation might make things worse.
She moved closer to him, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. Her fingers twitched nervously, but she willed them to stay steady as she slowly began to undo the first button of his shirt. Her fingertips brushed lightly against the fabric, then against his skin, and she tried to ignore the warmth that rose inside her at the contact.
Dante didn’t move. He didn’t even blink. He sat on the table, legs apart, completely composed, as though testing how far she would go.
Isadora focused on her task, her breath shallow as she undid one button after another until the shirt hung open, revealing the firm muscle and sculpted lines of his chest. She could feel the heat rising to her face, her hands trembling slightly as they trailed downward toward the waistband of his pants.
She hesitated—just for a second—then gathered her resolve. Her pulse was thundering in her ears, loud enough to drown out every rational thought as she began to undo the buttons there. The metallic click of the last button seemed to echo loudly in the quiet room.
Her heart felt as if it might burst out of her chest as she moved her hand to the zipper, her breathing quick and uneven. A sharp intake of breath escaped her lips when she finally slid it down. Her body moved automatically, as though disconnected from her mind, unwilling to raise her head to meet his gaze.
She dipped her hand into his pants, the warmth of his skin making her pulse race even faster. She was just about to take out the part of him hidden there when she felt an arm suddenly wrap around her waist, tugging her forward in one swift motion.
Her breath hitched. His other hand caught her chin again, tilting her face upward.
And then she felt it—the unmistakable brush of something soft against her lips.
It took only a few seconds for her to realize that Dante was kissing her. Deeply. Heavily. His breath mingled with hers, his tongue tracing against hers with a slow, deliberate rhythm that made her knees weaken.
It was maddening.
Enough to make Isadora gasp as her body reacted faster than her mind, her heart pounding wildly as the sensation overtook her.
Enough to make Isadora gasp even as she felt the the organ against her hand slowly begin to pulse in excitement which only excited her even more.
Her mind screamed for her to remember what this was—that it was only sex, only duty—but her body betrayed her. Her chest rose and fell against his, her lips trembling as his deepened the kiss, until all she could feel and think of was him.
