“Trust me.” The words burned in Bella’s ears as Dante’s grip clamped on her wrist, dragging her into the alley. The roar of the street screams, gunfire, Mateo’s voice calling her name faded into the pounding of her heartbeat.

“Let me go!” she hissed, stumbling after him.

“You want a bullet in your spine? Keep yelling.”

He shoved her against the brick wall, his body caging hers as another gunshot cracked nearby. Dust rained down from the fire escape above. His breath was hot at her ear, his chest solid against hers, his hand pressed firm over her hip like he owned the right to hold her there.

Bella’s lungs seized.

“This is insane,” she whispered.

“Welcome to my world,” Dante muttered, eyes cutting to the mouth of the alley. He was focused, alert, every line of him sharp and coiled. Not a man, but a weapon dressed in a suit.

When the gunfire finally ebbed into silence, he stepped back just enough to meet her eyes. “We’re moving.”

“No ”

“Yes.” His hand slid down her arm to capture her wrist again. “Don’t fight me.”

“You’re kidnapping me!”

He smirked, tugging her along. “Kidnapping’s when you don’t enjoy it.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You are unholy.”

“Sweetheart,” he said over his shoulder, grin wolfish, “you have no idea.”

They cut down the alley, past dumpsters that stank of rotting fruit and piss, until Dante stopped before a nondescript metal door. He knocked once, twice, three times in rhythm.

A slit scraped open. A pair of eyes peeked out.

“It’s me,” Dante said flatly.

The door swung open. A hulking man stepped aside without a word.

Bella dug her heels in. “I’m not going in there.”

“You’d rather go back out there and get ventilated?”

“I’d rather go home.”

He leaned close again, his voice a dangerous whisper. “Your brother’s home is exactly where those bullets were aimed. You think running back makes you safe?”

Her stomach clenched. “How do you know ”

“Because I know everything,” he cut in. “Now move.”

His palm pressed lightly to the small of her back, guiding her inside.

The safehouse was dim, smelling faintly of leather, whiskey, and gun oil. A single bulb hummed above a scarred wooden table. Bella hugged herself, glaring.

“You think this is normal?” she snapped.

Dante shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it over a chair. “For me? Tuesdays are worse.”

“Do you ever take anything seriously?”

He slanted her a look. “I’m taking you seriously.”

The weight in his gaze made her throat tighten.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, the shrill vibration breaking the moment. She scrambled to pull it out. Mateo’s name blazed across the screen.

Before she could answer, Dante snatched it.

“Hey!”

He winked at her, then pressed the phone to his ear. “Mateo. How’s the blood pressure?”

Bella’s eyes went wide.

The muffled roar of her brother’s voice exploded from the speaker. “Marino? Where is she? If you touched her ”

Dante leaned back in the chair, casual as sin. “Relax, brother-in-law. She’s safe with me.”

Bella lunged for the phone. He held it high, just out of reach.

“Don’t you dare call me that,” Mateo growled.

Dante grinned. “What should I call you then? Overprotective? Uptight? Future widower if you keep raising your voice at me?”

“Put her on the phone!”

Dante’s smirk softened as he looked at Bella. “Say please.”

Her cheeks flamed. “Give it to me!”

He handed it over at last. She pressed it to her ear. “Mateo, I’m fine. Don’t come here ”

“Where are you?” he demanded.

Before she could answer, Dante plucked the phone back and ended the call with a beep.

Bella gasped. “What is wrong with you?”

“Where do I start?” He pocketed her phone. “You can yell at me all night, sweetheart, but you’re not leaving until it’s safe.”

She paced the room, fury knotting her insides. “You don’t get to decide that.”

“Sure I do,” Dante said lazily, leaning back with his arms folded. “I just did.”

“You are insufferable.”

“And you,” he said smoothly, eyes dragging down her figure in the plain cotton dress, “are adorable when you’re angry. Almost as adorable as when you were blushing in that booth.”

Her breath hitched. “Shut up.”

“What were you going to confess, Bella?” His voice dropped lower. “Tell me. You owe me that much for saving your life.”

She froze.

“You wanted to say lust, didn’t you?” he went on, tone wicked. “The sin that makes saints squirm.”

Her skin prickled. “You’re disgusting.”

“You’re the one who came to confess.” He leaned forward now, elbows on his knees, gaze burning through her. “So confess to me.”

Her heart slammed. She turned away, but his chuckle followed her, warm and merciless.

The safehouse door banged open.

Bella whirled.

Two Marino men stumbled in, one clutching his side, blood soaking his shirt. The other dragged him forward, face pale.

“Boss,” the uninjured one said breathlessly, “bad news. The word on the street is it wasn’t us. They’re saying the Alvarez crew ordered the hit.”

Bella’s blood ran cold.

Dante’s grin finally vanished.

His eyes cut to her.

The metallic stink of blood filled the room so quickly Bella gagged.

The man clutching his side groaned, half-collapsing into a chair. His shirt was torn open, crimson soaking the fabric. The other one shaved head, tattoo curling up his neck pressed a wad of gauze against the wound with rough hands.

Bella stumbled back against the wall, hands flying to her mouth.

Dante didn’t move at first. He just stared, sharp and unreadable, jaw tight.

“Say that again,” he said finally, voice low and lethal.

The tattooed man swallowed. “People are saying… Alvarez ordered the hit. That you were the target.” He glanced toward Bella, hesitated. “Word spreads fast.”

Dante’s gaze slid to her.

It wasn’t a look. It was a blade pressed to her throat without touching her.

Bella’s knees nearly buckled. “No,” she whispered. “That’s not true.”

“Funny,” Dante said, rising slowly from his chair, “because the bullets felt real.”

Her pulse skittered. “My family would never ”

“They run half this district. They’ve got the muscle. They’ve got the motive.” His mouth twisted in a humorless smile. “Maybe big brother wanted to get rid of me and didn’t care if you got caught in the crossfire.”

“That’s not ” Bella shook her head furiously. “Mateo protects me. He wouldn’t ”

“Sweetheart,” Dante cut in, stepping closer, “every man swears he’d die for his sister… right up until it’s easier to let someone else take the bullet.”

Her throat closed.

The wounded man groaned louder, blood bubbling between his fingers. Tattooed Guy cursed, digging through a first aid kit.

Dante finally dragged his eyes from Bella. He crouched beside the chair, steady, calm. “Breathe. You’ll live.”

“Not if Alvarez wants us all dead,” Tattoo growled.

“Then Alvarez has declared war,” Dante said softly.

Bella flinched.

“No!” Her voice cracked the air. “This is wrong you don’t understand. Mateo he’s angry, but he wouldn’t ”

Dante straightened in one fluid motion. He was suddenly inches from her, towering, dangerous. His hands bracketed the wall beside her head, caging her in.

“Tell me, Bella,” he murmured, dark eyes boring into hers. “When you were on your knees in that booth… were you praying for forgiveness for him? Or for yourself?”

Her breath caught.

“Because right now,” Dante whispered, his mouth so close she felt the ghost of his words against her lips, “your family looks a lot like my enemy. And the only reason you’re still breathing is because…”

He stopped.

Her chest heaved. “Because what?”

A grin flickered at the corner of his mouth. “Because you’re too much fun to kill.”

Her stomach dropped. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” he said softly. “But I’m also the only one keeping you alive tonight.”

The door slammed open again.

Another Marino soldier stormed in, face pale with sweat. “Boss, it’s confirmed. The Alvarez name’s all over the whispers. Somebody’s framing them or they really pulled the trigger. Either way, the streets believe it.”

Bella’s nails dug into her palms. “No, no, no…”

Dante’s gaze didn’t waver.

“Looks like you’ve got a choice, sweetheart,” he said. “Run back to Mateo and maybe get caught in the crossfire… or stay with me and figure out who’s playing this game.”

Bella shook her head. “There is no choice. I can’t trust you.”

His smile widened, wicked. “Then you’ve already made your choice.”

Dante steps back, pulls his gun from his waistband, and hands it to Bella grip first.

“Then prove me wrong,” he says. “Point it at me. If you’re so sure I’m the enemy, pull the trigger.”

Bella freezes with the gun heavy in her hand, Dante watching her like a dare she can’t escape.

The gun felt heavier than it should have, like the whole city had poured its sins into the barrel. Cold steel against her trembling palm, Dante’s hand steady as he pushed the grip into her fingers.

“Go on,” he murmured, voice silk over glass. “Prove you’re not on my side. Aim, squeeze, and watch me bleed.”

Bella’s breath came shallow, ragged. Her finger twitched near the trigger.

“You’re insane,” she whispered.

“I’m giving you control.” His mouth curved. “Women like control, don’t they?”

Her pulse spiked. He was teasing her while her hand shook with the weight of a murder weapon.

The wounded Marino groaned from the chair. “Boss…”

“Quiet,” Dante snapped without looking. His eyes stayed locked on hers.

Bella swallowed hard. “I’m not ”

“Not a killer?” Dante leaned closer, his chest almost brushing hers. “Funny thing about guns, sweetheart. Once they’re in your hand, they don’t care what you are.”

Her throat closed. The scent of him gunpowder, leather, a trace of cologne swirled around her, intoxicating and suffocating all at once.

She lifted the gun halfway, her arm trembling.

Dante tilted his head, smirk lazy, daring. “That’s it. Point it at me. Maybe it’ll make you feel holy again.”

“Stop it,” she hissed.

“Or what?”

Her eyes burned. “You think this is funny? That I’m just going to ”

“You’re shaking,” he cut in. “That’s not anger. That’s adrenaline. Or maybe lust.”

Her cheeks flamed. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you still haven’t pulled the trigger.”

The words lodged in her chest like a splinter.

For a moment, she almost did. Almost curled her finger back, just to shut him up, just to see if he could bleed.

But she couldn’t. Her hand shook so violently she finally shoved the gun against his chest. “Take it!”

Dante’s fingers closed around it, smooth and unhurried. He slid it back into his waistband, eyes never leaving hers.

“Thought so.”

She wanted to slap him. Scream at him. Kiss him. Anything but stand here drowning in the heat of his gaze.

“You’re twisted,” she breathed.

He leaned in until his lips brushed the shell of her ear. “And you’re stuck with me.”

The door rattled again. Another Marino soldier burst in, panting. “Dante we’ve got eyes on Alvarez men moving three blocks over. Armed. Looking pissed.”

Bella froze. “No. That’s not Mateo wouldn’t ”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Dante said, straightening, every trace of humor wiped from his face.

He looked back at Bella. “You’re coming with me.”

“I’m not ”

He cut her off by grabbing her wrist again, tugging her toward the door. “Congratulations, sweetheart. You just became leverage.”

Her stomach lurched. “Leverage?”

His smile returned, sharp as a knife. “In this city, everything’s leverage. Even you.”

And before she could fight, he yanked her out into the night.

Bella is dragged into the street, Dante using her as a bargaining chip just as Alvarez soldiers move closer. She realizes her family may not only be blamed they might already be making a move.