Page 64 of Dangerous Seduction

At that moment, I knew that what we had was powerful enough to overcome any obstacle.

THIRTY

DANTE

The Maserati’s engine roared as I tore down the winding drive towards my father’s palatial estate in Palm Beach. The manicured lawns and meticulously pruned hedges blurred past my window, starkly contrasting the storm of emotions within me.

Last night with Natalia had been... transcendent. The way she had surrendered herself to me, the trust and vulnerability in her eyes as I bound her wrists and took her to new heights of pleasure. It had awoken something primal within me, a possessive need to claim her, to make her mine in every sense of the word.

But more than that, it had unlocked a part of me buried beneath my father’s suffocating patrimony. For the first time I had felt truly alive, free from the shackles of the life I had been born into.

And now, as the imposing silhouette of my father’s mansion loomed before me, I felt that newfound freedom slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. The mere thought of facing my father, looking into those cold, calculating eyes, pretending to be the dutiful son he expected, made my stomach churn with a potent mix of rage and disgust.

How could I play the part? How could I cozy up to the man who had so callously used me as a pawn in his twisted game of power and deception, endangering not only my own life but that of the woman I loved?

Natalia.

Her name was like a soothing balm, a reminder of why I was doing this, the reason I had to swallow my pride and play along with my father’s charade. If I wanted to overpower him and expose him, I had to keep my emotions in check; I needed to be the master of deception that my father had groomed me to be.

The iron gates parted before me, and I eased the Maserati onto the winding drive that led to the main house.

I pulled to a stop in the circular drive in front of the imposing entrance, my heartbeat galloping as I killed the engine and stepped out onto the intricately designed pavers.

The massive front doors swung open before I could reach for the ornate knocker, and a familiar face emerged.

“Dante,” Marco greeted me, his voice a low rumble as he stepped aside to let me pass.

I nodded, jaw clenched as I brushed past him and into the cavernous foyer.

“He’s in the study,” Marco called after me. “Be careful, hermano.”

I acknowledged his words with a curt nod, my steps faltering before I forced myself onwards.

As I approached the doors, the muffled sound of voices reached my ears—my father’s deep baritone punctuated by the occasional higher-pitched response of one of his henchmen. I steeled myself, straightening my shoulders and schooling my features into a mask of impassivity before reaching for the brass handle and pushing the door open.

My father sat behind his massive mahogany desk, his imposing frame silhouetted against the windows overlooking the manicured grounds. “Dante,” he greeted me, his voice a low rumble. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten your way home, hijo.”

I felt Tony’s eyes upon me, his gaze sharp and assessing as he took in my every move. Tony had been by my father’s side for decades, the enforcer who helped build the Reyes cartel into the sprawling criminal empire it was today.

“Never, Father,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil within me. “I’ve simply been... preoccupied with matters of business.”

Ricardo’s eyes narrowed, his lips curving into a humorless smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Ah, yes,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair. “Your little... side ventures. Tell me, Dante, how is that strip club of yours faring these days? Still not turning a profit?”

The barb was deliberate, a not-so-subtle jab at my efforts to distance myself from the cartel’s more unsavory activities. But I refused to take the bait, refused to let my father see the chink in my armor his words were designed to exploit.

“Club Diablo is doing just fine, Father,” I said evenly. “I’ve been exploring new avenues for expansion, some legitimate business opportunities that could prove quite lucrative.”

Ricardo’s brow arched. “Legitimate, you say?” he scoffed, his fingers drumming the polished surface of his desk. “And what would the heir to my empire want with legitimate businesses?”

I was done with his manipulation games. “I am not here to discuss the club or my other business ideas. I am here to discuss your mole in the DEA.”

My father tried to hide his surprise, but I could read him like a book. He nodded to his lieutenant. “Tony, we can continue our business later. I need to have a word with my idiot of a son here.”

Not until Tony was out of the room did my father look at me again. “What makes you think I have a mole in the DEA, son?” he asked, studying me intensely.

I leaned over his desk. “Because I know you had Natalia’s partner killed because he was getting too close,” I breathed.

A flicker of surprise crossed his features, quickly masked by that infuriatingly calm demeanor he always adopted. “Our little Agent Ramirez has been filling your head with stories.” He leaned back, steepling his fingers as he regarded me with a predatory gaze. “So what if I had? That misguided pup stuck his nose where it didn’t belong. He got what was coming to him.”

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