Chapter 287: I Don’t Care About Odds, I Want Dimitri Dead

He pulled out suddenly and flipped her over, pinning her on her back, entering her again with the same brutal intensity.

Isabella’s eyes were open now, fixed on his face, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I love Dimitri," she whispered.

"I know," Dante said. "And I’m going to make sure he’s dead before the month is over. So you can stop loving him and start accepting that you belong to me completely."

He kissed her then....a deep, possessive kiss that lasted while he continued to fuck her. His mouth moved to her neck, her shoulders, her breasts. He bit and sucked and left marks across her body that would be visible for days.

"Everyone’s going to know you’re mine," he said against her skin. "Your father’s going to know. Your family’s going to know. Every man who looks at you is going to understand that you belong to Dante Romano and no one else."

Isabella came hard, her entire body convulsing beneath him, her pussy clenching around his cock as pleasure tore through her.

And he kept going.

He pulled her up and repositioned her on her knees, taking her from behind again, his hands gripping her hips as he pounded into her.

"Dante, please...." she begged, oversensitive, her body still recovering from the first orgasm.

"Please what?" he asked. "Please stop? Or please make you come again?"

"I don’t know," she sobbed. "I can’t...."

"Yes, you can," he said ruthlessly. "You can and you will. Because you’re mine, and I decide when you come and how many times."

He increased his pace, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing it hard while he continued to pound into her from behind.

Isabella came again, screaming his name, her body shaking violently.

He fucked her through it and then pulled her up so her back was against his chest, one arm around her waist, the other hand on her throat.

"Do you understand now?" he asked, fucking into her slowly, intensely, each stroke a statement of possession. "Do you understand that you belong to me?"

"Yes," Isabella gasped. "Yes, God, yes...."

"Say it," Dante commanded. "Say the words."

"I belong to you," Isabella said. "I’m yours, Dante. Only yours."

"That’s right," he said, and came inside her, his hips driving forward one last time, his cock pulsing as he filled her completely.

They collapsed together, both breathing hard, both drenched in sweat.

Dante pulled her back against his chest, his arm wrapped around her waist, his face buried in her hair.

"I’m going to kill him," Dante whispered. "Dimitri is going to die because he dared to exist in the same world as you. Because he dared to have you before me. And when he’s dead, you’re going to understand that I’m the only man in the world who matters. The only man who will ever matter."

Isabella was too exhausted to respond. Just lay there in his arms, her body completely surrendered, her mind too overwhelmed to process anything except the feeling of him inside her.

"Sleep," Dante commanded. "Tomorrow, we have things to discuss. Tomorrow, you’re going to tell me everything you know about Dimitri’s operations. Everything you know about his family. Everything you know that could be useful."

"I don’t know anything," Isabella whispered.

"Then you’re going to learn," Dante said coldly. "Because you belong to me now. And what belongs to me, I use."

He held her through the night, his hand possessive on her waist, his body surrounding hers, making sure she understood that escape wasn’t possible.

In the darkness of the apartment, Isabella finally accepted what she’d been fighting against.

She belonged to Dante Romano.

And Dimitri Valentino was going to die because of it.

***

The next morning, as Isabella slept, Dante made a phone call.

Luca answered immediately.

"I want to move up the timeline," Dante said without preamble. "I want the next operation planned for within the week. I don’t care about the cost. I don’t care about the risks. I want Dimitri Valentino dead."

"That’s ambitious," Luca said carefully. "We need time to plan something with better odds...."

"I don’t care about odds," Dante interrupted. "I want him dead. Use whatever resources you need. Bring in people from outside if necessary. But I want this done within seven days."

"Understood," Luca said. "I’ll start making arrangements immediately."

Dante hung up and returned to the bedroom.

Isabella was still asleep, curled up in the sheets, her body marked with the evidence of what they’d done.

He looked at her and felt something that might have been love. Might have been obsession. Might have been the same thing.

He’d come into her life to use her. To extract information about Dimitri. To have a beautiful woman who could ease his darkness.

But somewhere along the way, it had become something else.

She’d become his. Completely and absolutely his.

But she is in love with the man who killed his brother, which only made the reason why Dimitri must die even more grounded.

***

POV: DIMITRI

The jet touched down at JFK at 6 PM on Day 9.

They’d left the island four days earlier than originally planned. The threat had been neutralized. The cleanup was complete. Staying longer would just give enemies time to regroup, and Dimitri wasn’t the kind of man who gave his enemies time.

Eve had been quiet on the flight....not unhappy, just contemplative. She’d spent two weeks in a bubble with him on a private island, and now they were returning to reality. Returning to the penthouse. Returning to a world where other people existed and complicated things.

She was processing. Dimitri understood.

They landed, and Marco was waiting at the hangar with a car. The drive to the penthouse took thirty minutes through Manhattan traffic. By the time they arrived, the sun was setting over the city, painting everything in shades of orange and gold.

The penthouse was exactly as they’d left it.

And Nonna was waiting in the foyer.