Captured

The ride to Dante’s mansion was a blur. Alessio sat in the back of the black SUV, his hands bound tightly with rough rope. The men around him were silent, their faces hard and unreadable. Alessio’s mind raced, trying to piece together a plan, but every thought was clouded by the sting of betrayal. Marco’s face flashed in his mind—pale, bloodied, and filled with regret. The pain of it was almost worse than the ropes cutting into his wrists.

The car came to a stop, and the doors swung open. Rough hands yanked Alessio out, dragging him toward the towering gates of Dante’s mansion. The place was a fortress, surrounded by high walls and guarded by armed men. Alessio’s jaw tightened as he was marched inside, his eyes scanning for any possible escape route. But there was none.

The interior of the mansion was as cold and imposing as its owner. Marble floors gleamed under the harsh light of crystal chandeliers, and the walls were lined with expensive art. But Alessio didn’t care about the opulence. His focus was on survival.

He was shoved into a dimly lit room, the door slamming shut behind him. The air was thick with the smell of cigar smoke and something darker—fear. In the center of the room stood Dante, his sharp features illuminated by the glow of a single lamp. He was holding a cigarette, the tip glowing red as he took a slow drag.

“Welcome, Alessio,” Dante said, his voice smooth and mocking. “I hope the ride wasn’t too uncomfortable.”

Alessio didn’t respond. He stood tall, his eyes locked on Dante’s, refusing to show any fear. Inside, though, his heart was pounding. He didn’t know what Dante had planned, but he knew it wouldn’t be pleasant.

Dante stepped closer, his smile widening. “You’ve caused me a lot of trouble, you know. Interfering with my business, stealing my deals. It’s been… annoying.”

Alessio’s voice was cold. “If you wanted me dead, you should’ve done it already.”

Dante chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. “Oh, I don’t want you dead, Alessio. Not yet. You’re far too valuable for that.”

Alessio’s brow furrowed. Valuable? What was Dante playing at?

Before he could ask, Dante flicked the cigarette in his hand, the ash falling to the floor. Then, without warning, he pressed the burning tip into Alessio’s arm.

Alessio gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out as the searing pain shot through him. His body tensed, but he didn’t move. He wouldn’t give Dante the satisfaction.

Dante leaned in, his breath hot against Alessio’s ear. “You’re strong, I’ll give you that. But everyone breaks eventually. Even you.”

Alessio’s jaw clenched, his eyes burning with defiance. “You’ll have to try harder than that.”

Dante stepped back, his smile fading into a cold, calculating expression. “Oh, I will. But first, let’s talk.”

He gestured to a chair in the corner of the room. “Sit.”

Alessio hesitated, but the men behind him shoved him forward, forcing him into the chair. His hands were still bound, and he could feel the ropes digging into his skin. He glared at Dante, his mind racing. What did Dante want from him?

Dante took a seat across from him, crossing his legs casually as if they were old friends catching up. “You see, Alessio, I’ve been watching you for a long time. You’re smart, resourceful, and ruthless when you need to be. Qualities I admire.”

Alessio’s eyes narrowed. “Get to the point.”

Dante’s smile returned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “The point is, I want you. Not dead. Not broken. I want you to work for me.”

Alessio stared at him, stunned. Work for Dante? The man who had just tortured him, who had orchestrated his capture? It was insane.

“You’re out of your mind,” Alessio said, his voice low and dangerous.

Dante shrugged. “Maybe. But think about it. You’ve lost everything. Your men, your territory, even your so-called friend. What do you have left?”

Alessio’s chest tightened at the mention of Marco. The betrayal still burned, but he pushed the pain down. He couldn’t afford to show weakness.

“I’d rather die than work for you,” Alessio said, his voice steady.

Dante leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “That can be arranged. But before you make that decision, consider this: I can give you power. More than you’ve ever had. Together, we could rule this city. All you have to do is say yes.”

Alessio’s mind raced. Dante’s offer was tempting, but he knew better. Dante didn’t want a partner—he wanted a puppet. And Alessio would never let himself be controlled.

“I’ll pass,” Alessio said, his voice cold.

Dante’s smile faded, replaced by a look of cold anger. He stood, his movements slow and deliberate. “You’re making a mistake, Alessio. But don’t worry. I have ways of changing your mind.”

He nodded to the men behind Alessio, and before Alessio could react, a cloth was pressed over his mouth and nose. The smell was sharp and chemical, and his vision blurred as the world spun around him. He tried to fight, but his body grew heavy, his limbs refusing to obey.

The last thing he saw before darkness took him was Dante’s cold, calculating smile.

When Alessio woke, he was in a different room. The walls were bare, the floor cold and hard. His hands were still bound, but the ropes had been replaced with metal cuffs. He tried to move, but his body felt weak, his mind foggy.

The door creaked open, and Dante stepped inside, his expression unreadable. “Good, you’re awake. I was starting to think I’d used too much.”

Alessio’s voice was hoarse. “What do you want from me?”

Dante crouched in front of him, his eyes locking with Alessio’s. “I told you. I want you. And I always get what I want.”

Alessio’s chest tightened. He didn’t know what Dante had planned, but he knew one thing—he had to escape. No matter what it took.

The chapter ended with Dante standing, his shadow looming over Alessio like a predator ready to strike. Alessio’s mind raced, his determination burning brighter than ever. He wouldn’t break. He wouldn’t give in.

But as the door slammed shut, leaving him alone in the cold, dark room, a flicker of doubt crept in. Could he really escape Dante’s grasp?

Only time would tell.