After breaking up with the ruthless Don of New York, I booked a cheap motel room in Las Vegas. I accidentally sent the confirmation text to his number. He quickly sent me a message. "He only takes you to a 50-a-night room? Drop him. I never put you in a suite under 20,000." I didn't reply. That very night, the heavy door of my motel room was kicked open. The lethal apex predator, who controlled a massive criminal empire thousands of miles away, suddenly appeared in front of me. Pinned tightly against the stained sheets, I was completely defenseless against his brutal, punishing passion. Just as I completely fell apart, he bit down hard on my earlobe, his voice dripping with sadistic mockery. "Elena, what if your new civilian boyfriend walks in on us right now?" I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, not making a single sound. When the storm finally passed and the dark lust faded from his eyes, I gathered all my shattered courage. We spoke at the exact same time. "I didn't find anyone else. Let's get back—" I spoke with a trembling voice, carrying desperate hope. "Shut up." He reached for the ringing phone on the nightstand. "My companion is checking up on me." Chapter 1 Elena POV The moment his words fell, I froze completely. Dante got out of bed effortlessly and answered the ringing phone. Soon, a woman's low, sultry voice drifted through the speaker, laced with a dangerous edge. "Dante," she murmured. "My men said you flew to Vegas in the middle of the night. Are you invading my territory, or just messing around with some local trash?" Dante didn't avoid me. He lit a cigarette, his deep, pitch-black eyes locking onto my naked body on the bed. Through the curling smoke, he let out a low, arrogant chuckle. "Sorry, Valentina," he murmured, his voice rough and completely devoid of guilt. "I just finished a breakup fuck with my former pet. The room is a total mess. Are you sure you want me to turn on the camera?" The woman on the other end briefly fell silent. Dante was just this kind of man; he never hid his ruthless nature. His cruelty was always on full display—you either accepted it, or you were destroyed by it. The woman quickly recovered, her tone softening with a predatory purr. "Then when are you coming to Chicago, Dante? The bed is getting cold." "I will see you tomorrow," Dante promised casually. "I already ordered my men to deliver that latest designer collection to your estate." Lying on the stained sheets, I felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured directly over my head. He had a new woman. And he had just reduced our violent, passionate night to a mere "breakup fuck." The blinding motel lights stung my eyes, making them burn with unshed tears. A month ago, Dante and I had a massive fight. In a fit of anger, I brought up breaking up with him. He didn't try to coax me. He simply asked, "Have you thought this through?" I nodded. For the past thirty days, I had drowned myself in endless casino ledgers, desperately trying to numb the agonizing withdrawal of losing him. But in the dead of night, the memories of his dark, protective embrace would suffocate me. Yesterday, after weeks of insomnia, I finally caved. I booked this cheap Vegas motel and deliberately "accidentally" sent the confirmation text to his private number. To make him think I was getting a room with another man. When he actually kicked down my door, a foolish spark of hope had ignited in my chest. I thought he still cared about me. Instead, he told me he had a new companion. Dante hung up the phone and casually tossed it onto the nightstand. He walked back to the bed, his muscular torso covered in faded scars from a lifetime of underworld violence. Without a word, he effortlessly scooped my limp body into his arms and carried me into the cramped bathroom. He turned on the shower. The warm water cascaded down my skin, but it couldn't thaw the absolute ice in my veins. He gently rubbed the soap across my back. His calloused hands carried a deceptively tender touch, as if handling a fragile piece of glass art. The stark contrast between his gentle touch and his brutal words tore my heart to shreds. "Did you really get a new girlfriend?" I asked, my voice hoarse and broken amidst the running water. Dante gave a faint "Mm," then stopped what he was doing. His fathomless, predatory eyes locked onto mine through the steam. A mocking smirk crawled onto his lips. "Elena, you didn't find a new boyfriend." He leaned in closer, his voice dripping with wicked amusement. "You sent me that text on purpose, didn't you?" "Did you really think playing such a pathetic stunt in a cheap motel would make me beg you to come back?" My face burned fiercely with unbearable shame. He had seen right through my fragile disguise in a single glance, stripping away my very last shred of dignity. "I didn't..." I bit down hard on my lip, desperately holding back my tears. Dante grabbed a towel and draped it heavily over my shoulders. "Good," he said coldly, the warmth of his body instantly withdrawing from me. "You are an adult, Elena. Learn to take responsibility for your actions. Since you asked to end things back then, it means we are completely over."

Elena POV Dante dressed in his bespoke charcoal suit, adjusting his silver cuffs. He strode out of the dingy motel room without sparing me a single glance. The heavy wooden door clicked shut. That hollow echo sounded just like a death sentence being pronounced upon me. I curled up on the faded upholstery of the motel sofa, hugging my knees tightly to my chest. I wept loudly until my throat burned with agony and my eyes swelled shut. In the suffocating silence, I painfully dissected my own fatal flaws. Why was I always so morbidly clingy? Why did I always need the validation of a ruthless Mafia Don just to feel secure? A year ago, Dante grew tired of my extreme dependence and abruptly exiled me to Las Vegas to manage the Famiglia's casino ledgers. He claimed the distance would "harden" me. But this two-thousand-mile distance only made my sick insecurity fester even worse. A month ago, he came to Vegas to inspect the territory. At the time, my grandmother was gravely ill; her constant urging for me to settle down finally pushed me to the edge of the cliff. In a moment of sheer desperation, I begged Dante for a wedding ring. The Don ruthlessly rejected the idea, looking at me as if I had completely lost my mind. "I never marry civilians, Elena. Stop testing my patience," he had mocked me. That night, my world collapsed, and I officially ended our twisted relationship. Which ultimately led to me ending up in this pathetic motel. Three days after the motel incident, a rare torrential downpour flooded the neon-lit streets of Las Vegas. During the morning rush hour, I was stranded on the sidewalk, desperately trying to hail a cab to the casino headquarters for an extremely important Syndicate meeting. Suddenly, a sleek, armored Maybach pulled up to the curb. The heavily tinted window rolled down with a soft hum. "Get in, Elena. I will drop you off," Dante commanded from the backseat, his deep voice leaving no room for argument. I hesitated, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. But I really couldn't afford to be late for the board meeting, so I reluctantly reached out for the door handle. But before my fingers could touch the cold metal, a stunning woman walked out from the luxurious hotel lobby behind me. It was Valentina, the feared Underboss of the Chicago Mafia. She was breathtakingly beautiful, effortlessly exuding a lethal attraction, and just like Dante, she was born into that blood-soaked world. "Dante!" she called out, her voice laced with an envy-inducing intimacy. She walked straight past me, completely ignoring the existence of a purely insignificant civilian like me. She leaned against the car window, flashing a highly predatory smile. "I recognized your car. Be a gentleman and accompany me to the luxury boutiques today, will you?" Dante looked at her, and to my absolute horror, the corners of his lips actually curled into a rare, genuine smile. Seeing them together—two apex predators communicating through rules of power I would never understand—felt like a knife twisting viciously in my gut. I instinctively tightened my grip on my umbrella. "I... I just got a cab," I stammered, frantically stepping away from the car. "You two go ahead." I didn't wait for his response. I turned around and practically charged blindly into the freezing rain. I fought back bitter tears the entire way, agonizingly realizing just how easily I could be replaced. An hour later, I stood in the massive glass boardroom of the Vegas casino syndicate. My soaked clothes clung tightly to my shivering skin, but my armor was firmly back in place. I flawlessly executed the financial presentation, projecting the staggering quarterly earnings onto the large screen. The room was filled with extremely dangerous, ruthless underworld men. Yet, I maintained absolute composure, my voice steady and extremely professional. Dante sat in the seat of power at the head of the table, those deep, calculating eyes tracking my every move. When I finally finished my presentation, he leaned back in his leather chair. "Well done, Elena. You have made a lot of progress," he praised publicly. If it were in the past, a single compliment from the Don could have kept me happy for weeks. But today, I simply lowered my eyes and gave a hollow, emotionless "Thank you." After the meeting was dismissed, I returned to my private desk and opened my laptop. A new email notification immediately popped up on the glowing screen. It was an email from the Famiglia's corporate human resources front company.

Elena POV I clicked it open and saw that the transfer request I submitted last month to return to the New York headquarters had been rejected yet again. I sat frozen, staring at the glaring red text flashing on my laptop screen. For the third time this year, my request to transfer back to New York had been inexplicably denied. If this had happened in the past, I probably would have been depressed over this for days. But now that I had officially ended things with Dante, my heart was surprisingly numb. But to say I wasn't disappointed would be a complete lie. Forcing down my frustration, I gathered the heavy casino ledgers into my arms and walked toward the Consigliere's office to get his mandatory signature. When I arrived, the heavy oak door wasn't fully closed, leaving a slight crack. I just raised my hand to knock, but the clear voices drifting from within stopped me dead in my tracks. It was the Consigliere speaking to Dante. "Don Dante, the headquarters has completely followed your instructions and rejected Elena's transfer request once again." "She has worked relentlessly for this transfer. Are you truly not considering bringing her back to New York?" The room fell into a brief, suffocating silence. Then, Dante's deep, flat voice, entirely devoid of emotion, drifted out through the crack in the door. "Let her wait." "Her temper is too suffocating. She is far too needy." "Exiling her to Las Vegas in the first place was to grind down her pathetic dependency." "If I let her come back to New York now, she will just go right back to revolving her entire life around me like a burden." I stood outside the door, instantly freezing up. It felt as if all the blood in my body had completely frozen into ice at this very moment. No wonder I was suddenly exiled to this desert city a year ago. No wonder all my desperate, bleeding attempts to transfer back were rejected every single time without any valid reason. I had always foolishly believed this was a routine corporate reassignment. I worked myself to the bone day and night, pulling countless unpaid all-nighters, desperately trying to prove my worth to the Famiglia. But I never imagined... From the very beginning, this was entirely Dante's personal game. Simply because he found me too clingy. So he callously banished me thousands of miles away without a single word of explanation. That night, after leaving the casino, the emotions I had suppressed for so long violently erupted. I squatted by the neon-lit curb, covered my face, and couldn't help but sob out loud. My entire year of grueling loyalty was nothing but a sick joke in his eyes. Meeting Dante was an absolute accident in my life. Years ago, I was just a naive, overworked waitress at a mob-front nightclub. During a night shift, some low-level thugs cornered me in an alley, violently shoving me and tearing my clothes. Just as I was screaming in absolute despair, Dante appeared and saved me. I later learned that he was the terrifying Don of New York, a man who controlled the life and death of the entire Eastern Seaboard. That night, he personally drove me home. He was aristocratic, mature, and radiating a lethal aura of power. Before I got out of the car, he handed me a gold-embossed business card. "If you ever want to quit, come try your luck in my empire." Because of him, I rapidly transformed under his dark, protective wing. Inevitably, as a naive young girl, I fell hopelessly in love with my dark protector. I had naively thought he loved me. And now, staring blankly at the flashing lights of Las Vegas, the cruel truth finally washed over me. I was nothing more than a pet he was trying to tame. A heavy, suffocating stone pressed down on my chest. I took out my phone, stared at his name for one last agonizing second, and then permanently deleted his private number.