Page 13 of Made for Sinners

His voice cut through the noise like a blade, low and commanding, and I felt my heart lurch in my chest. Slowly, as if pulled by an invisible string, I lifted my gaze to meet his.

“What happens now?” The question escaped before I could stop it, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound composed.

Dante’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile, one that sent a shiver down my spine. He pushed off the desk with a predator’s grace, his movements deliberate and calculated as he closed the distance between us.

“Now?” he echoed, his tone deceptively soft as he reached for me. His fingers flexed at his sides before grasping my chin, tilting my face up so that I had no choice but to look at him. The heat of his touch burned through my skin, his grip firm but not painful. “Now you belong to me.”

The words hung between us like a death sentence, heavy and final, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. My chesttightened, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure everyone in the room could hear it.

“What—” I started, but my voice broke, and I swallowed hard, trying again. “What are you talking about?”

Dante’s smile didn’t waver, but there was no warmth in it. “Your father and I have come to an agreement,” he said, his voice smooth and unyielding. “Your… indiscretion has put your family in a precarious position. One that requires a solution.”

Indiscretion. The word made my stomach churn, and I wanted to scream at him, to tell him that I hadn’t done anything wrong. But the look in his eyes stopped me cold—dark and unrelenting, a predator toying with its prey.

“And what solution is that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dante’s gaze flicked to my father, who stood rigid behind his desk, his expression a mask of anger and resignation. “Your father has agreed to settle the debt in a way that ensures the Contis are compensated for their losses.”

Dante’s smile turned razor-sharp, his grip on my chin tightening just enough to send a jolt of fear through me. His voice was low, almost conversational, but there was an edge to it that made the room feel colder. “Your hand in marriage.”

The words hit me like a slap, leaving me breathless and reeling. I blinked up at him, sure I’d misheard, but the predatory gleam in his eyes told me otherwise. My stomach twisted violently, and for a moment, I thought I might be sick.

“What?” I whispered, the word barely audible.

“You heard me,” Dante said, his tone calm, almost amused. He released my chin and straightened, rolling his shoulders as if this were just another business deal. “Your father has agreed that the debt your… mistake created will be resolved through our union.”

I shot a desperate look at my father, hoping—praying—that this was some kind of cruel joke. But the grim set of his jaw, the way his hands were clasped tightly behind his back, told me everything I needed to know.

“You agreed to this?” My voice cracked, and I hated the way it betrayed my growing panic. “You’re just going to sell me off like… like cattle?”

My father’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing as he barked, “Watch your tone, Emilia. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? The shame you’ve brought to this family? If Dante hadn’t been so generous?—”

“Generous?” I cut him off, my voice rising as I stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “You think this is generosity? He’s blackmailing you. Blackmailing me!”

“Sit down.” My father’s voice was sharp, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You will do as you’re told.”

I opened my mouth to argue, to scream, to tell him exactly what I thought of his so-called generosity, but Dante’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.

“Enough.” He didn’t raise his voice, but the authority in it silenced the room. His dark eyes locked onto mine, and I felt the weight of his gaze like a physical force. “This isn’t up for debate, Emilia. Your father has agreed, and so have I.”

I turned back to him, my chest heaving as I tried to keep the rising panic at bay. “You can’t be serious,” I said, my voice trembling. “You don’t even like me.”

Dante’s lips curved into a smirk, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “This isn’t about liking you, princess. This is about loyalty. Trust. And ensuring that the Ricci family pays what it owes.”

“I didn’t take your money!” I shouted, my voice breaking as the tears I’d been holding back threatened to spill over. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“And yet,” Dante said, his tone maddeningly calm, “the evidence says otherwise.”

I shook my head, my hands trembling as I clenched them into fists at my sides. “This is insane. You can’t just force me into marriage because of some numbers on a ledger.”

“Oh, I can,” Dante said, his smirk widening as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “And I will.”

“Papà, you can’t let him do this,” I pleaded, turning back to my father. My voice was raw, desperate, but he refused to meet my gaze. “Please. Don’t do this.”

“This isn’t about what I want, Emilia,” my father said, his tone cold and unyielding. “This is about survival. About protecting this family.”

“By sacrificing me?” I demanded, my voice rising as I took a step toward him. “You’re just going to hand me over to him like some… some bargaining chip?”

---