Dante's Possession

HAZEL

“Why do you keep questioning her?” Annette comes to my defense again. Chloe drinks her wine, watching as everything unfolds. Dante keeps his eyes pinned on mine.

“Simply because something here is off. What’s wrong with that?” He raises his eyebrows at me, and Chloe grabs my arm, pulling me away from him.

“Come on, let’s get away from my psychotic brother,” she whispers down my ear, dragging me away from the table. We leave the restaurant and enter the cold air. I rub my arms.

“Ignore him. He only cares about you, but he can be rather pushy.” Chloe gives me a sympathetic smile, and I nod my head, looking at the restaurant entrance.

We wait patiently for Annette and Dante to come out, and all of us walk to the car. Annette has a face of thunder, and Dante is tense.

His bouncing walk is more vicious than I’ve ever seen before, which is why I decide to stay behind him so that he can’t see how my hands are shaking.

Why would he want to know about my personal life? He has no right to know about my life, and even if he does, I want nothing to do with him and that creepy man Kenzo.

I’ve heard all about Rebecca and Trish when they went missing after hanging around with them. Apparently when they returned, the two of them weren’t the same again. The men in the Societa Oscura are nothing other than trouble!

The drive back was silent, and now Chloe and I are getting ready to go out clubbing. Looking at the pretty black dress that hugs my body, I take my identification out of my purse and struggle down the stairs in my high heels.

Chloe is getting ready, and I want to grab a glass of water before we go out.

I’ve heard that if you drink a glass of water, then your hangover doesn’t feel too bad the next day, so I’m giving it a try to see if it makes a difference.

Taking a glass out of the cupboard, I fill it up with water and drink it all in one go. Annette went to bed the second we entered the house, followed by Dante.

Chloe and I started getting ready, and now I’m finally transformed into a woman.

“You’re not going out,” I hear from the doorway which makes me roll my eyes because I know that it’s Dante.

“What do you want now?” I cross my arms and turn around to him standing practically on me. Jumping back, I lean against the side as he places a hand on either side of me.

His breath is inches away from my face, icy and minty. He has his black long-sleeved shirt, black tie, black suit pants, and black shiny shoes on.

“For you to not go out. Especially looking like that. I don’t want to be firing bullets tonight because I’m too tired for that shit, Hazel.”

He looks me up and down, and I get the feeling that he doesn’t approve of my outfit, not that it’s any of his business. I gulp.

“We’re going out, Dante.” I push him back by his chest, and he doesn’t move. It doesn’t help that he has a built-up physique, and one of his arms is bigger than my two arms combined together.

His chest was as hard as a rock when I pushed him back. My mind goes into overdrive thinking about what his stomach looks like underneath his shirt.

I have firsthand experience from when I saw him shirtless in his bedroom roughly two years ago.

I shouldn’t have expectations when I know for a fact that I don’t want to meet reality and find out that it’s bigger than what I could have ever thought possible.

“You are not going out.” He wipes his less-than-stubbly shadow against my cheek and breathes down the side of my neck. His body is telling me that he’s ready to fight me if I want to try to disobey him.

Who does he think he is to try to tell me what to do? I’m not a home-owned pet, and I never will be.

“Yes, we are,” I tell him with determination. I’m not listening to him.

“Fine! Me, Kenzo, and Mac will take you.” Dante is trapping me between him and the kitchen counter. I cannot move!

“No, you won’t.” I look directly into his eyes as he does with mine. I feel sick because my stomach is twisted up in knots.

“I don’t trust any fucker outside these four walls, Hazel. I won’t let you go out there without any backup.” Dante’s eyes show me something, but it disappears before I can figure out what it is.

“We don’t need babysitting.” I shrug my shoulders, and Dante shakes his head, fisting his hands.

“I never said that. I said that we will keep an eye out. I have too many enemies. I can’t let the two of you walk around the streets alone at night. Not on my watch.”

I see what he’s saying. He’s worried that Chloe and I will become victims of a trafficking ring, but the two of us are ruthless when together.

“Leave us alone. We will be fine.” I turn my head away from his. I don’t need a babysitter.

“Not a chance. I’m getting dressed, calling the boys, and we will all go together.”

“No!” I tell him firmly.

“Yes. If you dare to try and walk out of that door, I will shoot you in the leg. That’s a promise, babe, don’t tempt me.” I huff an irritated breath as Dante winks at me. He’s irritating me.

“I hate you, you know that, right?” I cross my arms over my chest feeling angered by his presence. How dare he demand and tell me what to do!

“The feeling is mutual, darlin’.”

I move my gaze away from him and turn around to refill my glass. My mouth has become overly dry, causing my vocal cords to scratch the back of my throat, which is uncomfortable.

He’s very close to me, and by close, I mean too close. The heat from his body is transferring to mine. He’s making me uncomfortable and unsure of what to do.

I’ve never met a man who enjoys irritating me and telling me what I can and cannot do. He annoys me!

I place my glass down on the kitchen countertop as I feel his left hand wrap around my waist. He yanks my head back by my hair, which is wrapped around his hand tightly.

I freeze on the spot as he moves his hand up the front of my neck. It happens so quickly I don’t have enough time to respond, and by the time my mind catches up with what’s happening, I’m facing him.

Breathlessly, I look directly into his green eyes as he stares down into mine.

My heart is smashing inside my chest, my throat feels restricted, and my sense of direction has diminished.

“Are you going to try and tell me no again, huh?” he asks me in a croaky voice, but it comes across as more of a threat. He did tell me that he will shoot me if I try to leave the house.

He has my hair in a firm hold and readjusts it in his hand so that he has control of it completely. It doesn’t hurt, but I feel threatened.

Moving forward to wedge me in between him and the kitchen counter, he smirks. He has trapped me, and I feel like a mouse.

All I can hear is our breaths synchronizing, my palms are sweating, and my body is shaking. I’m not sure if it’s adrenaline or a sign of fear.

As I previously stated, I have no idea what this man is capable of, and I should not have provoked him years ago because I now fear that I may live to regret it.

“I take that as a no. Good girl, you need to behave,” he tells me. His eyes tell me not to argue, but it’s in my nature, and I’ll never submit to a man who sees power as a way to make me feel small.