Page 20 of The Dante (Those (Damn!) Texas Dantes #1)

Her hand drifted instinctively to her stomach, fingers pressing lightly over the fabric of her dress.

Atremor ran through her as she did, her breath catching in her throat.

The smallest life was growing there, fragile and new, yet already caught in a world she couldn’t rule.

Aworld where muscle dictated fate, where alliances were made in shadows, and where she wasn’t even sure if the man beside her would protect them—or sacrifice them for a largergame.

A cold dread bit into her, a twisting emotion that came dangerously close to full-blown fear.

She thought she knew him enough to be able to depend on him.

Thought she understood the way he operated.

But as the silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating, doubt squeezed tight in her chest. She never, ever thought she would see Titus yield the way he had with Vex. It simply wasn’t likehim.

And yet, there was no denying it. She had seen it. Heard it. That cold, impenetrable man who had always been unshakable had let Vex speak for him. Had let Vex claim something that should have never been his to claim. And that terrified her more than anythingelse.

If he wasn’t willing to protect her from men like Vex, their child had absolutely no hope.

She stole a glance sideways, her pulse stuttering against her ribs. Titus sat beside her, his posture completely still. No tension. No sign of guilt or anger. Just that same composed, impenetrable exterior that made her want to grab him by the collar and shakehim.

She turned away abruptly, pressing her lips together, forcing down the rising wave of nausea and betrayal twisting inside her.

Her pulse thundered in her ears, and she fought to keep her breathing even, to not let the emotion clawing at her throat spill over.

Every part of her wanted to lash out, to demand an explanation, to scream that this wasn’t the man she married.

But she couldn’t. Not here. Not now. Not with her unborn child pressing heavily on her heart, areminder of everything she had to protect—even fromhim.

She couldn’t do this now . Couldn’t unravel in the middle of this car with the driver three feet away and a storm of unspoken words swirling between them. She had to hold it together. At least until they gothome.

Because right now, she wasn’t sure whether she was more afraid that Titus had lied to her—or that he hadn’t.

HE COULD feel her unraveling besidehim.

Jazz hadn’t said a word since they left the event, but she didn’t have to.

He could hear every unspoken thought, every doubt, every piece of hurt crackling through the tense silence between them.

He could see it in the way she held herself—rigid, restrained, as if she was barely keeping from lashing out.

And beneath that tension, he could sense something else—something deeper, more fragile.

Fear.

Not just for herself, but for something more, something unspoken that flickered behind her eyes.

He saw the way her fingers ghosted over her stomach, the way she clutched at the fabric of her dress like she needed to steady herself.

He didn’t understand it—not fully—but it was enough to know that whatever she was holding back, whatever fear had wrapped itself around her, it wasn’t just about Vex.

It was about them . Their future. Her trust in him.

And the knowledge that she was doubting him now, after everything, gutted him, burning a pain in him he couldn’t afford to feel. .

Because he couldn’t give her what she needed. Notyet.

And she should have everything she needed. She had every right to it. Titus Dante didn’t bow to anyone. He didn’t compromise, didn’t yield. He had built his world making others bend to him, just as his father had—never the other way around.

And yet tonight, she had watched him do exactly that. She had seen him remain silent while Vex spoke as if he owned them both, as if their future had already been decided. And Titus had let him. He hadn’t argued. Hadn’t corrected him. Hadn’t done a damn thing to stopit.

He had waited for that flash of ruthlessness to rise in himself, the hard-edged response that had always made him untouchable. But he had forced it down. Because this was part of the game. Part of theplan.

He needed Vex to believe he had the upper hand, needed him to feel secure in his so-called command. Titus had let the man talk, had let him claim his victory, because the moment Vex thought he had won, he would become predictable. And predictable men were easy to destroy.

But Jazz didn’t knowthat.

She had watched him let Vex take the lead, had seen him stay silent, and now she was sitting beside him in this car, stewing in doubt, believing he had caved. Believing he had given herup.

He couldn’t tell her the truth. Notyet.

And that was the part that shattered him the most. Not the silence, not the burden of his own deception, but the way she had withdrawn. The way she no longer trustedhim.

He had thought he could play this part, let Vex believe what he wanted, buy himself time.

But now, sitting beside her, feeling the burden of her silence like a blade against his throat, he wondered if he had miscalculated.

If, in trying to protect her, he had done something far worse.

If he had broken something between them that could never be repaired.

He had always believed, even in the worst moments, that he would protect her. That no matter how dark things got, he would never let anything truly harm her. But now? Now, as he sat in silence, letting her believe the worst of him, the burden of his deception crushed him.

Vex had been led into a trap constructed of his own egotism.

Titus had orchestrated that moment with precision, had let the man talk unchecked, had allowed him to weave the illusion of control.

But in doing so, he had let Jazz see something that had never existed before—his silence in the face of a claim he should have ripped apart.

And that silence had cost him something. Something fragile. Something vital.

He couldn’t tell her it was a game. Couldn’t reassure her that the real victory was his to claim.

So now, he sat in the quiet of the car, letting her stare out the window, letting the anger and betrayal build, knowing that she wouldn’t look at him. Knowing that if she did, she would only see a stranger.

The truth was a luxury Titus couldn’t afford. Not yet. Not with Vex watching. Not with the Feds circling. Not when everything was about to snap into place, and the only way to keep her safe was to let her believe the lie a little longer.

So he let the silence stretch. Let her rage build. Let her believe he had betrayed her, because the alternative was worse. If she knew the truth now, she’d try to fix it. She’d try to protect him—and that was something he could not allow.

She turned away from him, her breathing unsteady. He clenched his jaw, his fingers flexing against his thigh. He wanted to reach for her, wanted to tell her that everything she was thinking was wrong, that she was the only thing in his world that mattered.

But she wouldn’t believehim.

Not tonight.

So he did the only thing he coulddo.

He sat beside her in silence.

THE SECOND they stepped through the front door, Titus moved.

He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t wait for the storm to break between them.

He was done watching her slip further away, done letting the silence stretch like a chasm neither of them knew how to cross.

Before Jazz could take another step, before she could turn away from him again, he swept her up into hisarms.

She gasped, her fingers clutching instinctively at his shirt, but she didn’t fight him. Didn’t speak. The tension between them was a live wire, sparking, too dangerous to touch with words. Instead, she buried her face against his chest, her breath warm, uneven.

He carried her through the house, his grip unyielding, his pace steady. Past the marble-floored entryway, past the city lights burning through the floor-to-ceiling windows, past every reason she had to doubt him. Straight to their bedroom.

He needed to feel her. To remind her. To remind himself .

That they were more than this night. More than unspoken words and dangerous deals and trust fraying at the seams. That whatever space had wedged itself between them, it wasn’t enough to break them.

Not yet.

He set her down beside the bed, letting her slide along the length of him, and the instant her feet hit the floor, she was reaching for him. No words. No questions. Just desperate, aching, unspokenneed.

Her mouth crashed into his, hands fisting in his hair, and for the first time tonight, she let herself fall apart.

The frustration, the anger, the overwhelming sense of betrayal—all of it poured into the kiss, raw and unfiltered.

She wasn’t just reaching for him. She was trying to find him.

The man she thought she knew. The man she had trusted.

Titus felt it. Felt the way her body pressed into his, the way her fingers dug into his scalp, not just with need but with desperation.

It sent fire licking through his veins, but more than that, it sent something deep and aching through his chest. Because she didn’t want to just kiss him—she wanted him to prove something.

To show her that whatever she believed, whatever doubts were spiraling through her mind, this wasreal.

So he gave it toher.

He kissed her back fiercely, his grip unrelenting as he pulled her closer, as if he could press his truth into her skin.

His hands spanned her back, one sliding into her hair, tilting her head just enough to deepen the kiss, to steal her breath.

He wasn’t just taking—he was claiming , making sure she felt every ounce of what he couldn’tsay.

His constraint frayed at the edges, unraveling in the face of her fire.

She was desperate, clawing at him, pulling him down into something raw and electric, something neither of them could name.

And when she moaned against his lips, when her body arched into his, it wasn’t just passion—it was need.

It was a plea. Ademand. Awar between fury and longing, between betrayal and trust.

She wasn’t just trying to bring him closer; she was challenging him, daring him to prove that what lay between them hadn’t been destroyed. That she wasn’t just another move on his board, another sacrifice made in the name of his endless strategy.

And the last threads of his restraint snapped.

He didn’t just catch her. He possessed her. Took everything she was willing to give, everything she wanted to take from him in return, and let her set the rhythm, let her claim him as much as he claimedher.

He didn’t just catch her. He consumed her.

He pulled her under, into the firestorm of all they couldn’t say, into the clash of fury and longing that neither of them knew how to unravel.

He met her desperation with his own, answering every silent question with the demand of his hands, the fierce, unyielding press of his body againsthers.

He gave himself to her—every raw, unfiltered piece, every unsaid truth, every part of him he had spent a lifetime guarding.

And when she pulled him closer, when her breath hitched, when her nails raked over his back like she was trying to hold on to something slipping through her fingers, he surrendered to the moment.

There was no plan here. No strategy. There was only the way she moved against him, the way her lips bruised against his, the way her body pressed into his like she wanted to break him just as much as he wanted to break her.

And God, he let her. He let her burn through him, let her fury and longing consume every last piece of doubt betweenthem.

He answered her without words, without promises, without explanations. He answered her in the slow, deliberate way he kissed her, in the unrelenting way he touched her, in the way he claimed her as if this was the only proof of truth he could give her. And maybe it was.

Because right now, there was nothing else but the way she felt under him, the way she moaned into his mouth, the way she splintered apart in his arms and took him withher.

And in that moment, she was his again. If only for tonight.

She clawed at him, nails digging into his back, her breath coming in soft, uneven gasps between their kisses.

It wasn’t just passion. It was something deeper, something raw and unfiltered, as if she was trying to carve out the truth from him with touch alone.

And maybe she was. Maybe she needed to feel him, to force him to give her something real in the only way she trustednow.

Titus knew he was losing himself, unraveling under the force of her, but he didn’t care.

He wanted to be lost in her, wanted to drown in the proof that she was his, that she hadn’t completely pulled away from him.

So he let her take from him, let her own the moment as much as he did, their bodies tangling in an unspoken war neither of them wanted towin.

Because in this moment, there were no betrayals, no unanswered questions.

There was only this. Only them. Fuck, he needed this.

Needed her. Needed to anchor himself in the certainty of her body, the way she fit against him, the way she gasped his name like she wasn’t sure whether to hold on or let go.

Because if he thought too long about the silence between them, about the fractures he had willingly created, he would lose himself in something far darker than strategy.

And that—losing her—wasn’t something he could afford.

Titus yanked her against him, deepening the kiss, pouring everything he couldn’t say into it. He needed her to understand. Needed her to feel the truth he couldn’t tellher.

That she was his.

That she had always beenhis.

He slid a hand along her back, pressing her closer, and she arched into him, her body molding to his like she was made for him. Like she always had been. Like she always wouldbe.

They fell into bed in a tangled rush of heat and urgency, their breaths mingling, their hands grasping. Clothes disappeared, tossed away without care, until there was nothing left between them but skin and fire and all the words they couldn’tsay.

He kissed her slow, deep, taking his time, even as his body screamed for more. Even as every muscle in him tightened with restraint. Because this wasn’t about dominance or proving anything.

It was about her.

About giving her everything.