Page 24 of Auctioned Innocence (Bonds of Betrayal #3)

“Because I can’t—I can’t protect you and want you at the same time!” The words explode out of him. “I made a promise to Marco, and I’ve been…I’ve tried to keep my distance, do the right thing, but?—”

His voice cracks. “Fuck, Sofia, I can’t stop thinking about you. About touching you, about—” He runs a hand through his hair. “Marco would kill me if he knew.”

“Last Christmas in the library,” I press, needing to hear it all. “What would have happened if Marco hadn’t interrupted?”

Dante’s hands clench into fists. “I would have kissed you, backed you against those bookshelves and kissed you until you forgot your own name. Put my hands all over you and to hell with the consequences.”

The raw honesty in his voice makes me shiver. “I wanted you too.”

“I know.” His eyes meet mine, burning. “That’s what made it so damn hard to pull away.”

Before I can press for more, movement in the trees catches my eye.

A flash of something that doesn’t belong.

Dante sees it too.

In one fluid motion, he has me behind him, gun drawn.

Nothing moves.

“Inside,” he says quietly. “Pack your gear. Quickly.”

“The shooting,” I realize. “Sound carries in these mountains.”

Dante’s jaw tightens. “I know. But you needed the training more than we needed perfect silence.”

It was a calculated risk. One that might have just cost us our sanctuary.

But that night, after we’ve swept the perimeter and found nothing, the nightmares return.

I’m back on the platform, lights blazing down on me while men bid on my life.

But this time, when I look for Dante in the crowd, he’s not there.

Madame Rouge’s voice echoes through the room, announcing my sale to the highest bidder.

I try to run, but my feet won’t move.

Try to scream, but no sound comes out.

Then I’m in that hallway again, watching Maisie fight Viktor with everything she has.

Watching her beautiful, brave face as she drives her elbow back, as she tries so hard to break free.

But this time, I can’t move to help her.

Can’t do anything but watch as Viktor’s gun comes up.

“No!” The word tears from my throat as I bolt upright, heart hammering against my ribs.

The bang echoes through the mountain night, but it’s not Viktor’s gun—it’s the sound of Dante throwing open the door and rushing toward me.

He takes in my tear-streaked face, my shaking hands, and the way I’m clutching the sheets like they’re the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.

“Shh, principessa .” He’s beside me instantly, gathering me close without hesitation. “I’ve got you. It was just a dream.”

“She’s dead because of me,” I whisper against his chest, clutching onto him. “Maisie died because I convinced her to fight back.”

“No.” His voice is firm, absolute. “She died because Viktor Petrov is a monster who kills innocent people. She died because she was brave enough to stand up to him. That’s not on you.”

I don’t believe him. “But if I hadn’t?—”

“If you hadn’t what? Been captured? Been strong? Been everything that makes you who you are?”

His hand strokes my hair with infinite gentleness. “Maisie made her own choice. She fought because that’s who she was—a fighter. Just like you.”

I clutch his shirt tighter, trying to anchor myself in the present. “I can still see her face. The way she looked at me right before?—”

“She was proud,” Dante says quietly. “Proud of you for trying to save everyone. Proud to fight beside you. Don’t let Viktor take that away from her memory.”

My breathing gradually slows, matching the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Stay?” I whisper.

He hesitates only a moment before sliding under the covers. I curl into him immediately, fitting perfectly against his chest, my head tucked under his chin.

“Just until you fall asleep,” he murmurs, but his arms tighten around me like he’s not planning to let go anytime soon.

“I’m not a child anymore, Dante,” I say into the darkness.

His arms tense around me. “I know.”

“Do you?” I scoff. “Because sometimes I think you still see that ten-year-old who used to follow you and Marco around.”

“Trust me,” his voice is rough, strained, “what I see when I look at you now has nothing to do with that little girl.”

I tilt my head up to meet his eyes in the moonlight streaming through the window. “What do you see?”

For a moment he just stares at me, his gaze intense and hungry. “I see a woman who’s brave enough to stare down armed men. Smart enough to hack security systems that stump professionals. Strong enough to survive hell and come out fighting.”

His hand cups my cheek, the pad of his thumb sweeping my skin. “I see the most beautiful, dangerous thing I’ve ever encountered.”

The word “dangerous” sends heat coursing through me. “Dangerous how?”

“Dangerous to my sanity. To my control. To every promise I’ve ever made.”

His thumb traces across my lower lip. “Dangerous because you make me want things I have no right to want."

The words hang between us in the darkness, heavy with promise and possibility.

I want to respond, to tell him exactly what I want him to do about those dangerous desires, but exhaustion and emotional overload finally catch up with me.

My eyes drift closed despite myself, and the last thing I remember is Dante’s hand still cupping my face, his thumb still tracing gentle patterns across my skin.

I wake to pale morning light and Dante’s heartbeat under my ear.

For a moment, everything is warm and perfect.

Then I shift, and his sharp intake of breath reminds me exactly why this is dangerous.

Other parts of him are definitely awake too.

“Sorry,” I mumble, starting to pull away.

His hand flexes on my hip, holding me still. “Don’t.”

There’s something in his voice that makes me look up to find his eyes dark, hungry, and completely focused on me like I’m the only thing that exists in his world.

There’s a heat there that makes my breath catch, a raw want that he’s not even trying to hide anymore.

His pupils are dilated, his jaw tight with the effort of restraint, and when his gaze drops to my mouth I feel it like a physical touch.

The way he’s looking at me—like he wants to devour me, like he’s imagining all the ways he could touch me, taste me, claim me—sends liquid fire racing through my veins.

My body responds instantly, heat pooling low in my belly, and my skin is suddenly hypersensitive everywhere we’re touching.

Which is everywhere, since I’m still pressed against him from hip to shoulder.

His free hand comes up to cup my face, thumb tracing my bottom lip the way he did last night.

But this time there’s nothing gentle about it.

This time it’s pure possession, pure want, and I can see in his steel-gray eyes that his legendary control is hanging by a thread.

A branch snaps outside.

We’re both moving before the sound fades, weapons ready.

Through the window, I catch another glimpse of movement in the tree line.

This time, I’m sure it’s not an animal.

“Movement in the trees,” Dante says quietly, scanning from the window. “Multiple positions. Professional spacing.”

My heart races as I look where he’s pointing.

Now that I know what to look for, I can see the signs—shadows that don’t belong, the way certain areas of forest seem too still. “

“How many?” I whisper.

“Hard to tell from here. At least three, maybe more.” His voice is stony. “They found us.”

“How?” I whisper, though I already suspect the answer.

“The rifle shots yesterday. Sound carries in these mountains. Or they tracked the motorcycle.” He’s already moving, grabbing gear. “Could be anything. We stayed too long.”

“Shouldn’t we run?” I ask, my mouth growing dry. This is all my fault. Just like being captured was…

“They’ll have the perimeter covered by now.” His hand finds mine, steady and sure. “Standard containment—they’re waiting for us to bolt so they can pick us off in the open.”

Another shadow moves between the trees. Closer this time.

“So what do we do?” I hate how pathetic I sound, my voice small and unsure. What happened to the return of the confident girl that I felt yesterday?

He scans the cabin’s defensive positions, his jaw set in a way that indicates he’s thinking.

“We make them come to us,” he finally says. “Force them into a chokepoint where their numbers don’t matter as much.”

I also look at the room. “The front door?” I guess as Dante hands me a gun.

“Too obvious. They’ll breach from multiple angles.” He moves to the window, studying the approaching figures. “But this cabin has good bones. Stone foundation, thick walls. We can funnel them where we want them.”

I check my weapon, making sure it’s loaded. I take a deep breath. I need to focus. I can do this.

“What’s the plan?” My voice is finally sure and confident.

“We let them think they have us trapped.”

That dangerous smile returns. “Then we show them exactly what happens when they corner a Renaldi and a Moretti.”

The sound of boots on gravel grows louder.

They’re moving in for the final approach.

Time to fight.