Chapter 5 - Whispers and Whiskeys
The plan for the annual Marchetti Gala was set. The gala was an elite event hosted annually at the estate, attended by politicians, judges, business moguls, and rival syndicate leaders under a strict truce. Marco planned to turn off the mansion's master power grid at 10:00 PM during Dante’s keynote speech, allowing Romano’s hit squad to breach the estate under the cover of darkness.
In the hours leading up to the gala, the atmosphere inside the top-floor suite was charged with an undeniable, simmering heat. Sienna was no longer treated as a servant; Dante had ordered high-end clothing boutiques to deliver evening gowns directly to the executive wing.
Dante walked into the dressing room as Sienna stood before a full-length mirror. She wore an emerald-green silk dress that draped over her curves, high enough at the neck to mask the bandages around her throat, yet regal enough to command respect from anyone in the room.
Dante stopped in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat.
"You look..." Dante paused, searching for words he rarely used. "Magnificent, Sienna."
Sienna turned, blushing deeply as she caught his reflection in the mirror. "I feel like an impostor. Hours ago, I was scrubbing grease off your pots."
Dante closed the distance between them, stepping up behind her until his chest was inches from her back. He reached out, his long fingers gently touching the emerald fabric over her waist.
"You were never an impostor," he murmured near her ear. "You have more spine and honor than half the men wearing tuxedos downstairs tonight."
Sienna turned around in his space, looking up into his dark, brooding eyes. The fear she had felt for months had vanished, replaced by an overwhelming sense of security whenever Dante was near.
"Why are you doing all of this, Dante?" she asked softly. "Is it just about catching Marco? Or is it something else?"
Dante stared down at her lips, his expression raw and unfiltered. "When I found you in that kitchen, bruised and crying, something inside me broke, Sienna. I’ve spent my entire life controlling everything around me—this empire, this family, this city. But seeing you in pain made me realize that none of it matters if I can't protect the woman who captured my heart without even trying."
Sienna’s heart leaped. Before she could answer, Dante leaned down, his mouth covering hers in a deep, desperate kiss that tasted of fire and whiskey. Sienna wrapped her arms around his neck, sinking into his warmth, feeling the raw power and restraint of the man who ruled the underworld, yet held her as if she were made of delicate glass.
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When he pulled back, both of them were breathing heavily.
"Tonight, we end Marco," Dante whispered against her lips. "And tomorrow, you begin a very different life."
