DANTE POV
I'd rehearsed this conversation a hundred times.
But standing in Vittorio's study with Giuliana looking up at me with red-rimmed eyes, the words felt inadequate.
She'd just lost her father. Just inherited an empire. Just discovered she had enemies she didn't know existed.
And I was about to ask her to give me complete control over her life.
Perfect timing.
"The empire is yours," I said. "By inheritance. By law. But it won't stay yours unless you take immediate action."
She sat in her father's chair. Looking small and lost and trying very hard to hide both.
"What kind of action?"
"Consolidating power. Identifying allies. Eliminating threats before they eliminate you."
"Sounds simple."
"It's not."
I moved to the window. Looked out over the compound. Guards patrolling. Security lights cutting through darkness.
"Marco is gathering support," I continued. "He's met with three rival families in the last forty-eight hours. He's building a coalition to challenge your authority."
"Can he do that?"
"If enough family members support him, yes."
She was quiet for a moment.
"And Isabella?"
"Isabella wants you dead. She's been training as an enforcer for six years. She's capable with weapons. She's bitter about being illegitimate. She sees your inheritance as theft."
"So I have internal enemies and external threats."
"Yes."
"What do you suggest?"
This was the moment.
The moment I'd been building toward for ten years.
"Come to Milan," I said. "To my penthouse. Let me protect you while you consolidate power. Give yourself time to understand the organization before you make moves that could get you killed."
She studied my face. "And in exchange?"
"You give me absolute control over your movements and protection protocols."
"Absolute control?"
"Yes."
"Meaning what exactly?"
I turned from the window. Looked at her directly.
"Meaning you don't leave the penthouse without my security detail. Preferably without me. You don't make phone calls without my knowledge. You don't access the family's business operations without my approval. You don't make decisions that affect your safety without consulting me first."
Her expression hardened.
"That sounds like trading one prison for another."
"It is."
"At least you're honest."
"I'm always honest with you."
She stood. Crossed to the bookshelf. Ran her fingers along the spines.
"Why would you do this?" she asked. "You owe me nothing. You were my father's enforcer, not mine."
This was where I should lie.
Tell her it was duty. Obligation to Vittorio's memory. Professional responsibility.
Instead, I told her part of the truth.
"Because you're Vittorio's daughter. Because I owe it to his memory to keep you safe. Because letting you die would dishonor everything he built."
She turned. Eyes sharp.
"You're lying."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
"That's not the whole truth. I can hear it in your voice."
Smart girl.
Too smart.
"It's enough truth for now," I said.
"And when will I get the whole truth?"
"When you're ready to hear it."
She crossed her arms. "I'm ready now."
"No. You're not."
We stared at each other. Tension crackling between us.
"If I agree to this," she said finally, "how long does it last?"
"Until the threats are eliminated."
"And who decides when that happens?"
"I do."
"So I'm giving you control indefinitely."
"Yes."
"And I'm supposed to trust that you'll give it back?"
I moved closer. Close enough to see gold flecks in her green eyes.
"You're supposed to trust that I'll keep you alive long enough that you won't need me anymore."
"And if I never stop needing you?"
The question hung between us.
Loaded. Dangerous.
I should have stepped back. Should have maintained distance.
Instead, I held her gaze.
"Then we'll deal with that when it happens."
She was quiet for a long moment.
"I spent six years in London being free," she said. "Making my own choices. Building my own life. Now you're asking me to give all of that up."
"I'm asking you to stay alive."
"Same thing."
"No. It's not."
"Explain."
I reached for her hand before I could stop myself. Held it gently.
"Being free means nothing if you're dead, Giuliana. You can have all the autonomy in the world. All the independence. All the choice. But if someone puts a bullet in your head, none of it matters."
She looked down at our joined hands.
"And after? After the threats are gone? What then?"
"Then you'll be strong enough to protect yourself. Then you'll understand the empire well enough to lead it. Then you won't need me anymore."
"You sound very certain."
"I am."
"Why?"
Because I've been watching you for ten years. Because I know what you're capable of. Because I've seen you grow from frightened girl to formidable woman.
Because I believe in you more than I've ever believed in anything.
"Because you're Vittorio's daughter," I said instead. "And he didn't raise weak children."
She pulled her hand away.
"He didn't raise me at all. Not really."
"Then you raised yourself. Which makes you stronger than anyone he could have created."
She turned away. Walked to the window.
"I don't have much choice, do I?"
"You always have a choice."
"Stay here and die. Or go to Milan and be controlled."
"Yes."
She laughed. Bitter.
"Some choice."
"It's the only one I can give you."
Silence stretched between us.
Then she spoke. Quiet. Resigned.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"I'll come to Milan. I'll let you protect me. I'll follow your rules."
Relief flooded through me.
Followed immediately by something darker.
Guilt.
She didn't know what she was agreeing to. Didn't know I'd been watching her for ten years. Didn't know my protection came with obsession attached.
She was walking into a cage.
And I was the one locking the door.
"We leave tomorrow morning," I said. "Early. Pack light. Anything you need, we'll get in Milan."
"What about the family? Don't I need to stay for meetings? Discussions?"
"I'll handle the family. You handle staying alive."
She nodded. Still looking out the window.
I should have left then. Should have given her space.
Instead, I moved closer.
"Giuliana."
She turned.
"You should know something," I said.
"What?"
"I'm not going to be reasonable about your safety. I'm not going to compromise. I'm not going to give you space or freedom or anything that makes you vulnerable."
"I understand."
"Do you?"
"You're going to be controlling and overprotective and probably insufferable."
Despite everything, I smiled.
"Yes."
"And you're telling me this because?"
"Because you deserve to know what kind of man you're trusting with your life."
She studied my face. Looking for something.
"And what kind of man is that?"
Obsessed. Dangerous. Willing to burn the world to keep you safe.
"The kind who doesn't fail," I said instead.
"Ever?"
"Ever."
She was quiet for a moment.
Then she did something unexpected.
She stepped closer. Close enough that I could smell her perfume.
"Can I ask you something?"
My heart was racing.
"Yes."
"When you said you've been protecting me. When you said I wasn't alone in London. What did you mean?"
Fuck.
"Exactly what I said."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only answer you're getting tonight."
"Why?"
"Because some truths are better delivered in pieces."
"And when do I get the next piece?"
"When you're ready."
She searched my face. Eyes sharp. Intelligent.
"I don't think you're protecting me from external threats, Dante. I think you're protecting me from yourself."
The observation hit like a bullet.
Because she was right.
Every rule I was implementing. Every control I was establishing. Every boundary I was setting.
It wasn't just about keeping her safe from Marco and Isabella and rival families.
It was about keeping her safe from me.
From my obsession. From my need to possess her. From the ten years of surveillance that would terrify her if she knew the full extent.
I stepped back. Created distance.
"Get some rest," I said. "Tomorrow's going to be a long day."
"Dante."
I stopped. Hand on the door.
"You don't have to protect me from yourself," she said quietly. "I'm stronger than you think."
I looked back at her.
Standing in her father's study. Surrounded by violence and power. Looking small and brave and absolutely devastating.
"I know you're strong," I said. "That's what scares me."
Before she could respond, before she could ask what I meant, I walked out.
Closed the door behind me.
Leaned against it and tried to calm my racing heart.
She'd agreed.
She was coming to Milan.
She was giving me control.
Everything I'd wanted for ten years was finally happening.
So why did it feel like I was making the biggest mistake of my life?
Because you're lying to her, a voice whispered. You're bringing her into your home. Into your life. Into the cage you've built around her.
And when she finds out the truth, she's going to hate you.
I pushed off the door.
Walked down the hallway.
Made calls to my security team in Milan.
Prepared for Giuliana's arrival.
And tried not to think about the moment she'd discover what I really was.
A man who'd spent ten years watching her.
Documenting her.
Controlling her life without her knowledge.
She'd hate me.
But she'd be alive.
And that was all that mattered.
Even if it destroyed everything between us.